I Just Wanna Be A Girl!

I just listened to a song called "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars. It was so beautiful. It felt like something every girl wants to hear.  So, a lot of girls don't know that they are beautiful - or the opposite - they are vain about their beauty. When a girl asks you if she looks okay, it's one of two things - vanity or insecurity. Here, it's insecurity. The singer tries to push away her insecurities. He is dissapointed that she doesn't see her beauty the way he sees it. He's sad that she doesn't believe the compliments he showers her with.  Oh, you know, you know, you know I'd never ask you to change If perfect's what you're searching for then just stay the same So don't even bother asking if you look okay, you know I'll say When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change 'Cause you're amazing just the way you are  And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while 'Cause girl you'...

'I trust you,' I said  Eyes filled with hope  Not something I say lightly  Trust is like a broken glass  Once shattered  There's no going back  'I'm here for you,' you once said  With that, I put my trust in you  With one word, it's gone  I didn't believe what I heard  It's impossible, but it's true Heart shattering shattered trust Tears fill in my eyes against my will  Flooding down my cheeks  Dripping down my neck  Wet, salty, never ending  Silent sobs  Can't be recollected  And now, I'm all alone Afraid to trust and to hope Broken promises everywhere Are you happy now? You broke me!  I wanna scream and show you How much it hurts  Red revenge nails Ready to claw into your visage Whatever did I do to deserve this hatred?  This vengeful spite  This scorn and heartbreak  I'm now a shell  Trustless 

Wow, we are on a roll. Even though we have only had a handful of sessions things are moving along.  Today, we worked on puppet theatre. We split the kids into groups based on their grade, as we have been doing the past few weeks. We decided that splitting kids on this basis was easier and more convenient. I narrated the story 'The Three Little Pigs' with handmade puppets. The kids were super enthusiastic and repeated after me when I said the Big Bad Wolf's iconic dialogue. "Little pig, little pig, let me in... Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house down." After I finished, I asked the children if someone could repeat the story to me. Nithesh immediately volunteered and Mithralakshna didn't want to be left out. I could see her longing to tell me the story too ,her eyes wide and innocent. Unfortunately, we were short on time and I couldn't hear from her.  After the story, we needed to prepare for a performance that we planned to ...

Today, my juniors performed the play Animal Farm by George Orwell. For those of you who've been reading my blog from the beginning know that my class performed it as well, last year. The class was split into ten teams and each team was given a chapter of Animal Farm to interpret and perform. It didn't have to be exactly what the novel contained and could be anything they imagined. For example, my team performed an investigation about the death of Boxer.  I could only watch teams 1-7 perform. My favorite - and I think the crowd's favorite - was a team that interpreted the animals as stationery. (I don't want to mention the team number incase I remembered it wrong) Each animal was represented as a piece of stationery - a compass, set square, pencil, etc. There was a school student - a gen Z kid - who had no idea what those were even used for and mistreated them. The stationery items rebelled and revolted against the kid, chasing her away. They even had a little chant. The...

I've been to a few Taylor Swift themed parties and they are so therapeutic. I know some people say Swifties are like a cult following their leader, but there is so much more to it than that.  Have you ever heard about female rage? Well, some of Taylor's songs are perfect for when you're angry. When you are with a bunch of Swifties, you can scream your heart out and no one will judge you. They're going to be doing the same thing. You can dance like a maniac and no one would bat an eye. You can let loose and do things that you might not do with other company.  Then there are the bonds you forge. I met a bunch of girls last month and saw them again a couple days ago. They greeted me with a huge smile and welcomed in with open arms. Being a Swiftie is like being part of a community where you are totally accepted. Taylor's music is a safe space. Her songs talk about things that everyone has been through, from loss and grief to heartbreak and first love. The best part is ...

I worked my nails down to the quick I don't know what more I can give I've given all I have  Left behind in the dust Around me, laughter and sunshine  By my side, emptyness Loud and explosive  What's the use of my toil? Fading into the shadows Day by day  No one notices  How my laughs became smiles  Where do I go? What about me?  Who has my back? Do you want to be my friend?

A brush of wind across my cheeks A casual brush against my shoulders  A laugh  It's all stuck in my head  Our song Our favorite food  Our meeting place  All I see is nothing A whisper everywhere But not the voice I crave Our shared secrets remain Every corner telling our story Wherever I turn Memories come crashing down  No anchor to grab on to Drifing... Drowning... 

A room filled with books Dreams taking shape An escape A safe haven  Doors to worlds unknown Where did the time go? Between the shelves I lose myself  A thousand lives Mine to claim In ink my heart is bound Picking one from the shelf Settling down in a cosy corner Ready to dissapear Pages turning  The smell of new books  Hitting me and rendering me senseless A love like no other Nothing to stop me  No judgement  No disguise  Just truth  In A Fortress of Stories

Yesterday I was at Hindustan College for a slew of inter-collegiate competitions. I had only signed up for three, but I heard that we could participate in as many competitions as we wanted to, if we paid the registration fee (which I already had). I decided to do as many events as I could. My first event was spell bee. I messed a word up on the first round and thought I was out of the running. Little did I know, they had a bonus word. The word was pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. I thought I'd give it a shot. As the word was repeated, I tried to make note of the parts of the word. I stood up and tapped my nails along the table as I spelled the word. I missed one syllable (silico) but I got half the points, since I got the rest of the word correct. After that I entered the tiebreaker. (They didn't tell us what it was for or who won until the valedictory)  My next event was pictionary. Before that, I had some time on my hands and decided to put it to good use. Cospl...

This week, we visited the RSL school on Tuesday instead of Friday because some of our teammates were headed to an inter-collegiate competition on Friday. As soon as I entered the school, two kids came running up to me and almost jumped on me to give me a hug and greet me. I went to teach the second graders, just like last week. We thought the students would benefit from some level of consistency.  We started the session with a story. It was one about a fox who turned blue and was worshipped by the villagers. The other animals got jealous and eventually ended up killing the blue fox. (Now. this wasnt the story mentioned in the book. I improvised to make it simpler for the children to understand.)  The session went on reasonably calmly. The only clamor I saw was because of the children's enthusiasm to learn something new. (We were teaching them words based on things we see around the classroom. I wrote the words on the board and they all wanted to spell the words without looking...

Today was the third session of the department of English's service learning program. This week, we decided to split the children in groups based on their age. There were 11 of us, we split into pairs (One team of three).  I was handling the second graders today. I have one main observation to put on record. Those kids were so so so energetic. My friend and I sat them all in a circle and started reading to them. I read to them in English first and then he told them the same tale in Tamil. The kids were sitting quietly at first. I had the genius idea to let them dance for a minute (the story had dancing in it). I admit, I didn't think it through. They shot up and that was the end of order. It was hard to settle them back in their circle.  Then came the stickers. We had start stickers to give the children when they answered a question right. The original plan was to get golden stickers, but I could only get multi-colored ones. When I was handing out stickers, the kids were jumpin...

Take a moment to read through the sonnet...  The speaker here says that he knows his lover lies to him, even though she swears she is telling him the truth, always. She might think he is naive and doesn't know about the world. In reality, he knows that she lies to him. She also believes him when he says he is young, even though she knows his true age. Love's guiding principle should be trust, but here, the couple lies to each other all the time.  My question is whether it is okay to lie to the one you love... Could it be dependant on what it is you are lying about. If it's something that would upset the other person, is it really grounds for a lie? If you're hiding something that would upset your lover, isn't it wrong to hide it or lie about it? But, you could justify it saying it's in their best interest. Again, aren't the best relationships built on trust and truth? Where did that go? On the other hand, are white lies really harmful? But, again, trust is l...

Yesterday was the second session of my department's service learning program. After a taking a pause for a few weeks to discuss some strategy, my team and I descended on the school with renewed energy. Before talking about the session, we do need to talk about how we got there. Now, the school is a little more than a kilometer away. We discussed travel plans earlier and decided that some of us would walk and others would use public transport - depending on their preference. But, we soon realized that we didn't have the time to walk. A few of us were driving. I was among them and arrived at MCC RSL school a little before the session was due to start. The rest of my team arrived minutes later. We split the children into teams as quickly as possible. This time was more organized than the last. We each took our group to different spots inside the campus and sat them down. Some of us worked in pairs and a couple of us worked solo. We were supposed to tell the stories first and then ...

This was something my professor said to me that I really needed to hear.  You won't have critics if you aren't extraordinary. If there is something that sets you apart from the rest of the flock, there would be jealousy or a desire to drag you down. Imagine you're smarter or more beautiful than other people. There would be very few people who would still choose to be your friend. The rest would see you as competition.  This situation is even more heightened among young women. I've noticed that girls are more competitive with each other than boys are. Now, I'm not saying men don't have competition among themselves, but they don't let it get between their friendships. Women on the other hand are most jealous of their close friends. If their friend was to (for example) score higher than them in an exam or do something to catch someone's eye, they would be really jealous. This jealousy sometimes causes friendships to break up. It's so hard for women to f...

Who is Gracelin? Before I read this book, I asked myself how much I really knew about her. One glance through her debut book, 'The Fading Darkness' shows me just who she is. These days, it's hard to find people who see things as they are, people who are compassionate. Gracelin is someone who fills those categories. In her blogpost 'Life of Drivers' she showcases her compassion for an auto driver, rushing to get home. She is a girl who knows just how much her parents have done for her and gives them their due, striving to make them proud. This is shown in her blogposts 'Dad' and 'Mumma'. I especially appreciate her blogpost about her bag. I'm a world where people barely respect their fellow humans, she named her bag 'Jecia' and carries around safely, believing it to be her lifeline. This is a sign of humility grace and respect to everything around her. A book of blogposts is something very personal. It's frightening to put yourself out...

"How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying."  Yessss. How can you say that you love someone if you don't know them? The things they like. The things that make them tick. What makes them happy or sad? That's obvious. You can't. I'm not talking about the trivial things that people don't share. I'm talking about the big things. The obvious ones. The object of your affection can ask you for some things, but not everything. There are some things that should be natural and instinctual.  This line talks about signs in a relationship. If you are in a good relationship, you should be able to read the signs that your partner is giving you. You should know when things are alright and when some issues need to be fixed. The narrator in the song pretty much tells us that her partner doesn't know her very well. She has been trying to express something for a long time now, but he is oblivious.  In the end, all a person can do is remain quie...

I paid a visit to my old school a few days ago. I had some free time and I really wanted to see my favorite teachers. I desperately needed some motivation and I knew they would be able to give me that. I had a few copies of my most recent book. I decided that I would stop by and give them both a copy.  The moment I entered my old campus, I felt invigorated for the first time in a while. I rushed up to see one of my teachers. I was looking for her and asked one of the students where I could find her. (That student happened to be her daughter - who I remember seeing almost 5 years ago.) My teacher appeared a few moments later, and she gave me a hug. She took me into the computer lab, and the first thing she said was that I had changed a lot and that I looked really pretty. (That made me feel really warm) I gave her a copy of my book, and she promised to read it.  Then, I went to another building to find my other teacher. She was in the staff room, having lunch with two other tea...

My professor discussed Shakespeare's Sonnet 131 today. This is part of the dark lady sonnets. There was something about it that hit me. There was something my professor mentioned when he was teaching. It was something related to a wedding. A groom was asked a question that I honestly hope no woman every has to hear. It was something along the lines of 'how do you find her (the bride) beautiful?' The groom's reply was perfect. He said that it didn't matter who found her (his wife) beautiful or not. All that mattered was that he thought she was beautiful and perfect. The narrator in the sonnet says that the lady's beauty is captivating, even though she is tyrannical and cruel. She knows she holds power over him, but she still does so. The speaker doesn't mind because he thinks she is the most precious jewel. He doesn't want to lose her by speaking out. He goes on to say that the society doesn't share his thoughts. They don't find her beautiful. He ...

Today was the first day of my department's Service Learning Program. My staff in charge said a prayer to inaugurate the session. The session was scheduled to start at 2 pm and go on for an hour. However, we started the session a little late, since we had trouble splitting the school children into groups. The teachers of the RSL school were gracious and helped us settle the students.  The students were split into groups at random. Each group had students from grades 1-5. Once the students were split into groups, it made things easier for us to handle them. We had stories ready to tell them and jumped into action. Some of the older children already knew the stories we were going to tell, but the younger ones were captivated and paid close attention. Once I finished telling my story, I asked one of the children to narrate it. When she got it right, I felt something warm in my chest. It showed me that they had listened to what I was saying.  After the stories, we had a set of voca...

I had my first interview today, and it ended before I even realized it was an interview. I had just applied for an internship with a publishing house the previous day and honestly wasn't expecting a call for a few days.  I was in the middle of interviewing the CEO of the same company when I got the call. I returned the HR team's call after speaking to the CEO - now, that's not a sentence you hear very often is it?  I didn't know I was being interviewed when I spoke to the HR manager. I answered her questions easily. They were things I tell people regularly. She asked about my passion for writing and why I love reading and writing. I didn't think twice before answering - as these answers were second nature to me. I don't know how well I performed or if my answers were what they wanted to hear. All I know is that I was honest and true to myself - which is all I can really ask for.  Only after the call ended did I realize that I just gave my first interview. It was...

The day started with the inauguration of the MCC MRF Innovation Park's Writer's Nook. This venue has already been used before, but it was finally time to officially inaugurate this magnificent place. I say magnificent because of the decor of the room. Firstly, there are couches and divans for speakers to use. Secondly, the wall is covered in papers - pages of books, stuck to them. The yellowing paper is very aesthetic and really serves the name of the room.  I had the honor of presenting my books to Ms. Meenakshi Ahamed, a reputed journalist and author. My ideation was also mentioned. I felt pride rushing through me as my professor mentioned my work. After the presentation, the whole party moved to the Anderson Hall for a fireside chat with Ms. Ahamed. I had the privilege of addressing her directly and asking her a question about her book "Indian Genius - The Meteoric Rise of Indians in America," which I read about a week prior.  I enjoyed conversing with her. Her swe...

A few weeks ago, my Music and Literature teacher gave us a super cool assignment. We were supposed to write a short song on our own and compose a tune to go with it. We were supposed to form groups, record ourselves singing, and send it to her.  At first, I was pretty apprehensive. How were we supposed to write songs? None of us had experience with songwriting, even though there were a few professional singers in the group. As we wondered what to do, we decided that we could ask one of our seniors for help with the composition. But we still needed to provide lyrics in order to add music.  That's when inspiration struck. I had a pretty good poem - in my opinion - that we could use. I volunteered my work and we sent it to a friend for some help with the music.  When we sang our brand new song, I felt really proud. It felt magical to hear my words - the child of the height of my emotions - with music. The sound of my teammates harmonizing brought back the emotions I fel...

I went to the Chennai book fair again - on the last day. This time, I was amazed to see people lining the sidewalk, with books spread out on tarps in front of them. There were books for just 30 rupees. I saw a few books that I remembered reading when I was little and was immediately drawn in. I couldn't resist picking up one of my favorites.  I then ventured inside. I went straight to the Scholastic book stall, where I practiced my storytelling skills. I beelined for the children's books. I picked one up and lost myself in the magic. I was so pleased to see multiple children around me pausing to listen to me reading. It showed me that what I was doing served its purpose. I was able to engage the children.  When I was done there, I went to a few second-hand book stalls, where a new author caught my eye - new to me. Sylvia Day. I found 4 of her first 5 books in the same place. There was an amazing deal at the stall, 6 books for 500 rupees. My friend and I started hunting for the...

Crash! Wait! Why is there a crash? What's going on?  Where am I? There's something on the ground Pain flashes over my arm Growing in intensity Unbearable Tears welling up Crash! Thud! Why is something banging? How did I get on my feet? Why is the world shaking? Why are my cheeks wet? Why am I hurting? Why can't I move my arm!? Where am I?  What just happened? 

My most recent read is a book called "Indian Genius: The Meteoric Rise of Americans in India" by Meenakshi Ahamed. This book was published by Harper Collins. I was instantly captivated by the introduction to this book.  As most of you know, I grew up in the US. I was pleased to see a lot of the differences I noticed between the Indian and American cultures and cities mentioned in the book. These are things I have seen for myself, which helped me visualize what the author was talking about.  The author picked 15 prominent Indian Americans to discuss in her book. She also included riveting exclusive interviews.  I enjoyed reading about each individual, but found the information overloading my brain. It felt like there was a lot in there that I couldn't remember. For example, where each individual was born and what their parents did for a living. I really liked reading, but this book had a lot of information. I persevered through the book and found certain parts that grabbed...

Everyone knows how much I love books. I wanted to go to the book fair as soon as it started, but I just got the opportunity to go a few days ago.  It was - to start out - huge. I accidentally looked at the wrong building at first and it was underwhelming. I wasn't sure how 900 stalls could fit in that small space. It was only when I walked in that I realized that that building was for handicrafts and things like that. The book stalls were in a whole other place. My friend and I sped through it and hightailed it to the books.  I had an amazing time browsing each stall. I think I covered at least half of the stalls there, which is saying a lot. I especially liked the offers on the second-hand book stalls. They were selling 3 books for 300 rupees, which was a steal. The only problem for me was the quality of the books. I am someone who has very high standards. I treat my books very well and it physically hurts when I see a book all dirty and crumpled. The most popular books were ...

This is my 200th blog post. I am delighted to have been writing for that long. Today, I wanted to talk about my blogging journey. When I started blogging, I didn't think I would get this far. I just started as a response to my professor's challenge. It soon became something more. It became a means of expression. It helped me let go of things that were bothering me.  Looking at the title of this blog... I started writing at a time when I felt disconnected from my feminity. I lacked female companionship and I found myself yearning for that. I may not have written much about girlhood, but the title of this blog is a reminder that every woman has the inherent right to feel feminine. She needs to know that it's okay to let herself feel small and petite and femme. She might have other interests and she might enjoy things that aren't traditionally feminine, but in the end, she always reconnects to her womanhood. This blog is a reminder of that idea.  Apart from that, it let me...

Can you hear the scream? No How could you when I supress it  Refusing to let myself feel emotions My soul screams  With the pain of holding it all in  Nowhere to turn  My mind does not quiet down  Emotions fighting to break free I keep them to myself Fear of judgement  Rejection and abandonment Keep them in  Keep them in so they will love you Keep your screams quiet  Even as your soul shatters 

I'm trapped No escape I need a miracle  Someone hear my pleas It's eternally midnight here Everywhere I look...  Darkness surrounds  I long for light It's a new moon day Not even the moon  Wants to bear witness To my despair The stars have hidden  Themselves from my view Is my despair that horrid I need a witness Someone to bear the brunt of my emotion Some other soul or being In this Eternal Midnight

On the 28th and 29th of December, Katha Publishers conducted a workshop in the MRF Innovation Park at MCC. As soon as I knew this workshop was coming up, I knew I wanted to go. My professor told me how prestigious this workshop was. I didn't totally believe him until I saw the crowds that arrived at MCC.  This workshop was intended for schoolchildren, but we MCCians had a special session since we were hosting it. I was also a volunteer for the workshop. My Saturday morning started pretty early. I rushed to campus by 7:30 and sprung into action. The day started out with decorating the venue. Soon after, parents and their children started arriving. There were people from out of state. They had come just for the workshop. I sprung into action with the rest of the team, guiding children and their parents around the building.  Once everyone was settled, it was time for our session. I loved the sessions. I compared my writing to what the mentor taught us and I was pleased to find th...

"Look where we are now. When we met, did you ever imagine we'd be in a place like this?" Afrid said, looking at Annalise.  All around them, battle raged. A bomb had just dropped in the middle of the city and people were trembling with fear, worried about the enemy's next move. The cries of the wounded echo in their ears, promising to haunt them forever.  "Blueberry cupcake!" The store owner announced, "it's ready. Come and get it!" Two little children immediately perked up at the mention of their favourite treat. Their heads turned in unison to face the shopkeeper  The children bolted up from their seats and started running to the counter. The little girl, Annalise, slipped on a patch of water that an irresponsible customer spilled. The little boy, Afrid, was raised to be a gentleman. He immediately stopped in his tracks to help the little girl to her feet. As soon as she was on her feet, Afrid darted off to the counter again. Little did he kno...

Wow... where has the year gone? I can't believe it's already gone. This year has just been wonderful. In January, I'd never have imagined I'd be where I am now. I started the year unsure of how to put my talents to use. I didn't know how to develop my passion for writing.  Now... look at where I am. I'm an author and a regular blogger. This was only possible because of my drive. I knew exactly what I wanted to do and I worked for it. I did everything I could. I explored every possible venture.  I think that's what matters. That is what I want to share with everyone reading my blog. First of all, thank you for reading constantly. It's been a hell of a ride. Second, you can do it! I believe in each one of you! Everyone has potential. All you need is the drive to do it. Research your area of interest. Look for people who can help you get started. The most important thing is that you don't give up. You need to believe in yourself. You will make it to the...

This is a short film directed by Ms. Gayathri, an alumnus of Madras Christian College. My professor suggested reviewing this film on my blog, here it goes.  Anbe Nee Illamal deals with a typical problem that couples face every day. Their parents don't agree with their relationship. Now, most of the short films or movies we see with that problem ends happily. The couple goes to hell and back to convince their parents to let them continue in their relationship. This film, however, is different. The couple parts ways. The most surprising part is how the hero reacted to the heroine's confession about her parents' disapproval. He was such a gentleman. He totally understood that there was only so much she could do. He didn't get angry or throw acid on her face or any of the other things we see in other movies. He was so kind and genuine and reminded her that he still loved her. Then, he respected her decision and left her in peace.  Now, there is the guy the heroine's par...

I'm like the Giving Tree No complaints from me "My blood?" you ask "Here you go," I say After all, this is what I was meant to be I wonder if you truly see me I've offered you all I am All I have is yours for the taking My fingers crumbled My dreams destroyed What more do I have to give I'm sure there is still more you desire After this has passed What would happen to me Raise me up on a platform So the crowds can see what I've given There will be silence No one will know all I've done You wouldn't show them what I gave you "It's between you and me," you justify What about me? All I'll have are scars  The memory of what I once was And the silence Nonexistent applause

Beneath the moon's dull light In an undiscovered place Tensions soar Wanting and longing  A touch of fear What comes next? An open invitation Crystal clear As soft as a feather A touch that's there and then gone Gentle and strong at the same time You don't want it to go away It disappears and you long for more It comes back, harder and firmer Demanding a response from you Dominant and pleading Vulnerable and clueless You give in Letting your emotions take control You finally know who you were meant to be Under the light of the moon

What happens when your dreams disappear? When you just know that there's no way that you're ever going to be able to have them. I'm not talking about tangible things like publishing a book or getting the job you want. I'm talking about your hopes for the future - things you built your visions of. It's where you wanted to see yourself, but, you just can't have it. If you stick to your dreams or desires, you're going to lose something else - this thing is something you can't live without. You are sure of that, but... they are your dreams. They aren't something you can just let go of easily.  You are somewhere where you can't do anything but dream. Now, you know that your dreams will never ever come true. You didn't really ask for much, but it still is too much to ask for. You put everything into your dream. You hoped it would come true someday, so you worked for it every single day. Your every thought was for your dream. Now, you have nothing t...

Leave me be I've been hurt before Nothing you say will help Something in me is just broken Whatever you say or do  Nothing will change  I can't be saved I have been broken My spirit has crumbled The fighter you once knew is gone I'm just a shell of who I once was That girl is dead She has been buried deep Broken, battered, and bleeding She can't be healed Don't waste your time Others have tried I believed them They left me worse than they found me I lost trust I lost hope I lost my dreams I lost my desires I am all I can count on It's a hard line to walk But I can't be revived I have no other choice But to live the life that's been laid out for me The girl I once was dreamt of love Unconditional and true She was naive And she has broken The woman I am now Lives off silence, in fear Her strength is gone Her soul burnt away Please don't try to save me again You've tried before And failed Look where I am now I am defeated I give up. 

My girlhood was stolen! Have you seen it? It disappeared with the wind Before I even understood what it was I was once a carefree girl Playing under the lush green trees Rolling on the soft grass Dipping my toes into the flowing streams I didn't know what it meant to be a girl  The precautions I had to take The dangers in the world The eagle eyes I had to adopt I thought being a girl was easy I didn't know it was something to be feared I thought it was a boon to be born a girl I never knew I was a curse Suddenly, my innocence was stolen They pushed me into a corner  My body wasn't mine anymore No one heard my cries of "Stop"  "That is the burden of having a daughter," The world insisted No one helped me find myself  "You are a woman now,"  Give me back my girlhood! I cried in vain

If I played the year back,  I would not imagined I'd be where I am now The twists and turns I hated  And struggled with All of it was to lead me here Where I am now January's pain and February's clarity March and April's joy The bliss that followed in May and June The strained relationships that grew In July and August When threads connected to create destiny In September  Sparks flew and flames raged  In October and November December brought peace and stability  A craving satiated at last Promises kept and truth unveiled Magic witnessed with joy and tears The path's we wandered led us to where we are Here at last Where we are meant to be

Wow... it is so humbling to hear that someone is inspired by you. A couple days ago, I was hanging out with a couple of my college juniors. One of them (again, protecting their privacy by not using their names), told me what my professor said about me in their class. He was using me as an example to drive his point. I was pretty honored to hear what he had to say. I'm not sure if I deserve it, but it felt really nice to hear what he had to say about me. (Thank you, sir!) He told them about the things I did and even what the principal said about me (I doubt that happened, but it was nice to hear.) "Akka, you are my role model..." she said.  "...You were already my role model in ethnic walk, now in literature also," she continued.  I was so moved. I've called so many people my role model or my inspiration, but I never thought I'd see the day when someone was inspired by me. I couldn't really speak for a minute. I wondered what I did to deserve that kin...

Now, this is a bit different from what I usually write but it's something I tried and it changed the way I think.  So, the point is pretty simple. It's just basic grammar. You need to look at the tense of the verbs. When you use the word 'you' in the sentence, or are talking about the reader/protagonist, the verb should be in simple present tense. When you are talking about another character in the story, for example, you are watching someone doing something, the verb should be in simple continuous tense.  For example: "You open your eyes and inhale deeply."                             "Night falls before the thief returns. 'Please, spare me,' he cries."  These are things that are different from when you write something in the first or the third person perspective. The next thing is that you have to put yourself in the character's shoes. You can't be separated and away from the actions an...

I do remember the swing of your step The life of the party, you're showing off again And I'd roll my eyes and then you'd pull me in I'm not much for dancing, but for you, I did Because I love your handshake, meeting my father I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets How you'd kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions I've listened to this song a million times, but today, there was something about this song that reminded me of insecurities and the worry of not being good enough. When the singer says that she's not really into dancing, but she does for him, it feels like a metaphor for changing herself and her ideals and likes and dislikes. Then, there's the reason behind the change.  There's this post on Instagram that shows how a relationship looks when a girl loves more and when a guy loves more. The lyrics (in my opinion) depict a relationship where the girl loves...

"A Lost Land of Magic - Anything is Possible "  This is the title of my third book. It originally started as just a collection of stories in the second-person perspective, but it soon became more. Now, it is a story where the reader becomes the main character. Everything happens to the reader. They go through each of the "character's" minds in turn after being cursed to take on the visage of 14 others.  This way, I could still keep my basic idea while connecting all of these stories with a simple prologue - which I would love to share a few days later.  The stories can be read independently, as a literary experiment - which is what this was. I attempted this experiment after a challenge from one of my professors. It soon became something more and I enjoyed writing it.  Now, whatever I write, I automatically want to write it from a second-person perspective. (It happened during my basic writing skills exam. I was trying to write a story and in the middle, I almos...

Yesterday morning, I had the honor of playing a key role in inaugurating my department's Service Learning Program. This was my brainchild, conceived years ago. I always wanted to spread the importance of reading and the effects it can have on children.  As someone who began listening to stories at a really young age, I know the impact it can have on someone. Books give us a huge amount of general knowledge - even if it's fantasy you choose to read. My preferred genre is fiction. These books have given me a vast vocabulary and impeccable grammar skills. These are things that you just acquire. I never had to put any work into this.  We all know how important English is in this world. This project will help children improve their language skills and will help them fall in love with reading. I hope they will know what it can give them and they will want to do it on their own.  This project was even presented before MCC's principal, Dr. Paul Wilson in a special ThinkTank meeti...

  Before you read this, take a minute to look at the poem, Sonnet 130 by Shakespeare. It's part of the sonnets addressed to the dark lady.  This sonnet pretty much ridicules the conventions of beauty. Throughout this poem, the poet describes his lover. Look at how he does that. He pretty much says that she doesn't meet any of the conventional standards of beauty.  Now, what exactly are the standards of beauty? Isn't beauty in the eyes of the beholder? That's how it's supposed to be. People have different tastes and they find different things beautiful. Now, Shakespeare didn't mean it this way, but when I read the poem, I felt like a woman has to have all these things to be considered beautiful. That's what we are told as we grow up. A woman has to look a certain way to be considered beautiful - and, let's face it, every woman wants to be called beautiful.  The thing is, these things are out of our control. She can't control the way she looks. The onl...