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I sure do two things a lot :cry and write about death

What if I don't wake up tomorrow morning And all my texts are left unread My family thinks I'm sleeping in again I've got stuff to get done as I'm leaving the next day. They fuss at me, get annoyed at me, Or my lifeless body? They notice something's wrong, and they notice I'm cold Cold like the blood isn't pumping any more. My lips are dry, tears still stain my undereyes My hair is good, but my body is limp. My friends don't hear from me, they call me multiple times They think I'm busy, and goes away for a while. All the sad and happy poems and scribbles In multiple books and screens Sealed away with my fingerprint. But now I'm gone My books are still unread My bags still half packed With no one to take them to another city. Suddenly nothing matters anymore All the little things I didn't do All the arguments They all don't matter now. All they want is for me to wake up and talk a lot. The silence is deafening, When all they wanted last night was some quiet For what would the neighbours think? What would they think now, for there's no more noise? My cold body is still looked upon with shock, tears and confusion. "She died in her sleep from a heavy heart, and left everyone alive with a heavier one"

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White Noise

I've been cooped up in my corner of the room this break, with an initial intention of getting work done. Making more art, getting more work done, getting better at what i do and so on.

As days passed, all i was left with was a lethargy, a yearning, and many yearnings. I yearn for home and my mother's hug, and chattering away for hours to her, lying down on the red oxide floor- ever so cool, no matter what the weather. I yearn for a love where i do not have to teach someone. How to love: a manual to tending a heart. I yearn for a love so gentle and kind, like and more than the platonic ones i get, but i need the taste which makes it different from saheliyon ki pyaar aur karuna.

My body aches everywhere, and no matter how much i sleep or stay awake I am still tired. And they say i need fresh air for i am rotting away within walls, but my body aches, my legs ache. The thought of getting out and walking makes me even more tired.

The constant buzz in my head has died down. It's been a week and i notice once in a while that everything feels quieter, my surroundings and my head. Every time i notice that i argue with myself - should i conduct a funeral for them? Afterall they were with me for quite a while now, even though i remember absolutely nothing. All i remember is the whizzing and buzzing and constant jitteriness.

I do not like the weather here. I should have just gone home. I cant wait for two more months. I should have just gone home. A familiar but frustrating nausea creeps all over me some days, but i am mostly too spaced out to even react. I wish it was January again and it was slightly cold and i could sleep all day.

My face looks gaunt and i feel more hopeless everyday- i wish someone spelt out for me about what hope i am losing. I am drained of many things and I am still picking at the scabs of old wounds of the heart. I wish it just disappeared in front of my eyes, than to watch it heal.

I want to sleep and wake up and feel alright again. I wish this constant discomfort just leaves me. But is not everything alright already? i dislike this constant dilemma and moral conflict. Let me feel whatever i feel, I'm pleading to myself.

All i hear is the white noise of the ceiling fans in a dark room with nothing but the light of a screen, lulling me into a trance like slumber from which i will not wake up rested. All i hear is the white noise of the ceiling fans in a dark room and i yearn for my own room back home 2000 kilometres away and the comfort of my friends' arms.

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Ode to my school days

something i wrote last year!

Will I ever, sometime in the future, Regret that i wasn't feeling That this is all ending- My days in an uniform.

I find myself surrounded by people Who are crying About leaving their "second home".

But i feel numb. Yes, I will miss the red bricks. The angel tree, The corridors. And the open auditorium with the aluminium sheet roofing, The courtyards where rain splashed in front of classrooms, All these places- where our voices echoed through, our feet danced to the music, Our arms scraped across; And left scars.

Mortar and bricks, and red and cream paint And the abundance of trees And orchids and anthuriums! You who witnessed years of growth of little girls into young women- I will miss you.

I will miss the people- My peers young and old. You who built me and broke me And rearranged my shards and polished me; The ones who inspired me, The ones who taught me lessons of life The ones who lit up my soul! My people i will miss you.

Did i emerge from there Like a phoenix from its ashes? Or like an angel in bandages? I am beyond repair, I pray i look back and say "i have healed".

But will I ever Sometime in the future Wish i hadn't vented so much even when things were hard? Will I ever look back just to say i should have enjoyed it more, these times?

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Mold and Memories

My mum was telling me about how old photo albums get moldy if shelved for too long. "They get spoiled when you don't open them much." Aren't the memories in your albums the same, forgotten, spoilt, when we don't talk about and revisit them once in a while?

Go through your albums once in a while. Don't let them rot, the memories and the albums. :)

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Live, you'll cry if you die.

I want you to leave my room as such, like a museum. For I will visit again and again, and lie down on the floor like i used to.

My bedsheets crumpled, blanket unfolded, a plushie on the floor.

The curtains slightly open, leaking the sunlight in at 7 am. It was one of my favorite lightings of the day- the other being around 4 30 pm in the evening when the sunlight was again beautifully inside my room.

Always made me wish i had a good camera.

My table, arranged but dusty, and the boxes and sketchbooks scattered under it

My cupboard, oh an absolute mess with all my paints and scraps and trinkets

My hairbrush, still with the hair it held

The letters stacked safely under another table, and lots of trash i don't need in other shelves.

The towels hanging from the overhead stand above the bed, gently swaying in the wind.

The grey floor tiles with 3 drops of emerald nail polish- right next to my wardrobe. Don't wipe it off.

Don't suck the life out of my room, don't take anything away. Let my phone ring from spam calls, dust my laptop and watch the movies i have in it.

Ring the bell from downstairs, and i will be on the floor screaming my reply back with a grunt. But this time, no one will hear me.

I will cry in the same chair where i once wished i was dead. But i cry now to live once again, to breath once again.

I might have gotten through everything by now, for 20 years ain't that short. I would have been travelling the world with the love of my life, but I'm still 20 in my room and no one can see me.

So leave my room as such, it is my museum. Come in sit and watch, and I'll watch you back crying, longing for my life.

PS: this is just a free verse meant to comfort myself! Do not be concerned!

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Why representation of mental health in children and young adult media and literature matters- a rant <3

DISCLAIMER: This is not a self diagnosis, but merely a grateful rant to a piece of literature that means a lot to me!

I first came to know of something known as ADHD in 2016, when I started reading Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief in 6th grade. After summer camp, my uncle picks me up and drops me off at the library. I come back with the first book of the Percy Jackson series. I am forever grateful to my friend from summer camp for recommending me this- it perhaps changed my life forever. It surely shaped my personality a lot, but most importantly, staying loyal to our topic- it opened my eyes to a condition called ADHD, which I probably have.

Growing up in a household that was very skeptical of medicines, doctors, professional help in health and mental health etc. UNLESS it was an emergency, but simultaneously obsessed with me becoming a doctor- I was so not educated about stuff like these (p.s I did not end up going for a medicine degree). Whatever I found and learnt I owe it to my reading and the internet.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians is about a guy called Percy who is a demigod, initially struggling to fit among “normal” people until he is claimed by his godly parent and goes on to live a very risky and adventurous life while balancing his life as an average middle schooler. Percy, like many other demigods, had ADHD- which according to the plot was to help them in war and similar situations. What’s ADHD? I google it up to find out it means Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. I proceeded to read more about all this to mildly relate to the symptoms. I ended up brushing it off thinking I’m just pretentious and I’m trying to relate to the main character of the book. I came to do that more and more in the years to come. I finished the whole pentalogy, read its sequel and related trilogy by the author (absolutely loved all of them in case y’all didn’t notice). I, in fact did relate to a lot of stuff they said about their life outside the demigod life. These books touched my core for reasons I don’t know how to explain- it just did.

In high school or higher secondary school (ironically, I don’t remember), somehow this whole ADHD topic popped up in my life again. Or maybe my awareness of it just resurfaced. My friends used to say that my behavior screams that I have ADHD. How I get distracted, how I get overwhelmed, how I hyperfocus, how I can keep talking and my stream of thoughts were endless- so many examples. They even said the stuff I like and are attracted to are very “ADHD core” even, which was and is so funny to me.

After messing up 12th grade academics big time, I came to a realization that my drop in academics wasn’t because I was stupid or the syllabus being too hard or me “slacking off”. My thoughts concluded to a possibility that what if a major part of the series of unfortunate events in life was because of something beyond my control? No matter how much I worked or put effort I’ve felt I had to put more mental energy into things than an average person, leading me to become heavily overwhelmed very frequently especially in my teenage. Presenting this to my family was crazy, as any mental health issue was a taboo and equated to insanity. But I finally convinced them to take me to a doctor.

The first thing the doctor said after talking to me is that ADHD is usually only in kids- under 12 and all. He proceeds to ask my mum if I was extremely hyperactive in school to the point, they call home and all, her answer was no. He diagnosed me with anxiety, which is a condition I do have. I was put on mild antidepressants and regulation medicines, and I had them for like 3 months when for some stupid reason I stopped. I kind of managed on my own for 6 to 8 months after that, as life had been pretty peaceful and not triggering.

Fast forward to current times! Recently I came to read articles about how ADHD is less diagnosed in women. This was due to ADHD research being predominantly run on hyperactive little boys. It also talked about how inattentive ADHD is more common in women and women end up masking symptoms more. All of this made so much sense. Ever since I came to college, every symptom of mine is obvious now and my anxiety has been pretty out of hand too. I’m going to go to a different doctor this year end to assess what my condition is- if I do have ADHD, or if it’s anxiety itself or if it’s something else. Fingers crossed.

As I write this in my last year of teenage (I turn 20 in a few months oh lord) I am and forever will be grateful to Rick Riordan for writing his books for his son who has ADHD in a way it’s not a “disability” but something of greater purpose, a demigod context and all- which in my opinion was the perfect way to present such topics to a young audience. Here the highlight is that these books are not about mental health or anything at all. It’s a mythology fiction series that got me into Greek, Roman and Norse myths. But these small things that were part of the characters and even better- their personalities DON’T revolve around any of these (I hate when books do that), made it spectacular. It is not just there to be there, but it subtly adds meaning to the plot.

I hope more non stereotypical books shows and movies will help kids and teens find themselves regarding any matter.

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ten years ago you were so scared of such different things, but you survived them anyway. the same goes for five years ago and two years ago. everything that has ever felt like a hurdle, you’ve passed through. so be afraid, identify your fears, and then allow yourself to remember that in just a little while, this will be another thing that you have overcome.

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won't you be my otter half? 🦦❤️🧡💛

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