A Frustrated Chesspiece

On some days, the world isn't fair.

Like yesterday and the day before
and I don't see how it will be any more
Their eyes roll and sign it wasn't enough
when you give it all you had and more.
Of all the million selves I go through each day
the hopeless one is the worst to be
for I like to have things in my own hands
and have the only one to blame as me.
If it were upto me I would survive
I would shoot everything in this quiver of mine
and if I died in battle I'd rise again
for I would learn how to win the next time.
But my victories aren't my own to grant
My losses come from the ego of strangers
A mere chesspiece in their corrupted games
the one who has everything to wager.
And yet this game of chess is like no other
for the pawn is the one to blame
They made it so there's only so far I can go
and yet I crumble with shame.
I can yell "the game is rigged" with all my might
a red pill too hard to digest
for the ones who won are basking in their glory
thinking they did something better than the rest.
The ones who lost have been playing for so long
believing they lack everything the others say
losing sight of their own efforts and worth
looking for newer conditions to obey.
I am but a pawn with endless ambitions
on this journey with everything I can spend
to become a Queen with unlimited moves
once I make it to the other end.
And yet it all seems like an illusion
all the hierarchies we put in place
for what good is even a Queen with all her might
if the moves are upto someone else.
I lost some games and it seems I won many
and I might win the one that's on play
or knocked out despite my strongest moves
contrary to belief, its not in my place to say.
May be my defeats would be more justified
and my triumphs would not make me numb
If only they were upto me and my endeavor
not the mood of who has me under their thumb.

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The Jack of All Trades

I was told I could be good at anything not warned it meant average at everything People grow up, may be I grew down on every chessboard but as a pawn Being born a cluster of potential meant so much more for me to waste The rising star they all looked up to who fell shooting down in a haste There were so many boats to ride I put my feet in all but heart in none Shuffling again and again to find the same Jack of all trades, master of none. I had this picture perfect idea of me painted gold with every medal I landed every teacher and fortune teller so sure a future set in stone waiting to be handed I was my full-marks and my first prizes my monitor badges and assembly applauses my jumping years and too good for my peers my school songs and their genuine cheers my dance rehearsals, the needles and threads my poems and speeches turning heads my raising hands and stunned teachers my voice familiar with the speakers. Now I am this collage of embarrassments everyday reminded to make amendments...

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भुगोलले नछुट्टाएका मन!

आज उही बिदाको दिन जसको पर्खाइमा हप्ताका बाँकी दिन कटाउँछु म । पढाइ र प्रोजेक्टको पन्जाबाट मुक्त भएर दिनभर यसैगरी यो शहरलाइ झ्यालछेउ उभिएर नियालिरहने दिन । अग्लाअग्ला भवनका बिचमा हुरिसङ कुस्ती खेलिरहेका नरिवलका पात हार्दै, ठक्कर खाँदै मेरो झ्यालका सिसामा ठोक्किन पुग्छन्, अनि म सुनिरहन्छु तिनमा कुनै मिठो धुन भेटे झैं । टाढा टाढासम्म नरिवलका रुख, केही पर नेटवर्कका अग्ला टावर अनि पार्श्वमा धमीला निला पहाड। मान्छेको होहल्ला भन्दा काग कराएको प्रष्ट सुनिने, ओहो! विकसित भएर पनि कति शान्त छ सलेम शहर! आफ्नो देशभन्दा धेरै टाढा, दक्षिण भारतको यो शहरमा जिवनको बाटो खोज्दैछु म। इन्जिनियरिङले सास फेर्न दिएको समयमा सम्झने गर्छु घर-परिवार र देश, आखिर एकदिन डिग्रीसहित फर्कनु जो छ। तर देश यति व्यस्त छ कि अरु कैयौँ युवालाइ झैँ बिर्सिएकै होला मलाइ पनि। भुकम्प, नाकाबन्दी, राजनीती, युद्ध , केही न केहिले सताइरहने मेरो देशलाइ फुर्सद होस् पनि कसरी! अहिले पनि देश र मधेसको विवाद चल्दैछ रे! जब यो शहरलाइ हेर्छु, हिन्दी बोलेको नरुचाउने, हिन्दी चलचित्र नचल्ने, आफैँमा रमाइरहेको यो दक्षिण भारतलाइ हेर्छु, ड...

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A cheesy poem

You say you can't write poems about love About happiness, devoid of hurt but is it really that you cannot or that they never hit you hard enough. You've never written about starry skies but so many with watery eyes Always with a pen in the lows and never once so in the highs. It was never something you could not feel but writing it down would make it real. Maybe that would shield you for good But the end always hit as hard as it should. So you never wrote about your smiles In your theatre of memories, those blissful aisles but everytime you bled and shed you scribbled and went on for miles and miles. And though it begins so cliche with all these rhymes And will only get cheesier with the following lines I hope we're both patient with this one because today I wish to write about good times. Today all I did was exist and yet he looked at me like I won a nobel prize Today all I did was something dumb and yet he talked to me like I was the smartest pers...

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The stories of a Crazy girl!

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