To the Heartbroken


I heard that you’re…settled down..that you..found a girl and you’re married now….

How many of us experience a hurt rush when we start hearing this song? Do you feel like hitting the next button on your phone? Or do you simply appreciate the music? Or do you just listen to it, gasp in the sadness of the meaning and cry a little bit each time you listen to it?
I do. I listen to it and remember how I felt when I was heartbroken. Dipping into random oceans of nostalgia and regrets and insecurities; seeing your ex with someone else being the worst one.
It sucks to have your heart broken. See it break all at once in front of your eyes and feel so helpless because there’s nothing you can do to change things, undo things, nothing at all. It sucks to know that
‘We could have had it all.’
Puffy eyes due to crying all night, giving up on your apetite, resisting yourself from connecting to the one you love in any way, stalking the hell out of their social media profiles and moreover accepting your present, regretting not seeing his bad qualities before; most of us have been there.
Of course, dealing with a heart break has its own perks. I remember becoming stronger, and more alert. The guy I was in love with was practically a jerk throughout but as they say “love is blind” and I just couldn’t see it. Only when I hit the ground I realized how I risked damaging my self worth, my confidence and my feelings for someone who wasn’t worth it.
But in some cases the ones you damage your heart for are absolutely worth it but you lose them because of your stupidity or because of several other reasons. It sucks doesn’t it? I’m sure half of the people who were reading this article have given up because they don’t want to go in that past lane again.
For some, crying never stops. Their ex lovers become a part of their being and it takes someone really special to dig that part out and make them happy yet again.
Dealing with a heart break isn’t easy, it’s harder than any bad experience you thought was difficult to deal with because it involves your heart. A fraction of people are lucky to get the right ones at the right time, but the rest? We’re just learning to become stronger. And that’s okay. Because we will. And we do. And you know what’s the best part? Whatever happened has happened for the good. After all Adele too has found the One hasn’t she?

So here’s to the heart-broken, to the ones who are dealing with a heartbreak right now, to the ones who have come out stronger than they have ever been before.

Here’s to you. Here’s to you.

I just want to tell you that you are going to get through this, for good
and you’ll find only the right ones waiting for you at the end of your sadness. Just let it go. You have to let yourself let go.

-Wings of Delight©

Do you Love me?


“Do you Love me?”, there it was out in the open. When I look back I still feel those butterflies of mixed emotions I felt when these words tumbled out from my lips. It wasn’t like I couldn’t ask, it was more like the time wasn’t right, certainly not with you breathing into my neck while I sat on your lap as you played our song on the piano; my favourite one which you wrote for me. The ardour with which you kissed me made me perceive so many emotions simmering behind your eyes. Was any of it love? Should I have let you have me without knowing where we were going? The dull pounding of the rain outside couldn’t drown out that one question, which was many times on the tip of my tongue, just waiting to be asked especially when you made me feel that you cared enough, when you made me feel alive in so many ways. I always fooled myself to believe, that I wasn’t affected by you, that I was incapable of love when I did, I loved you so much that I couldn’t get you out of my system, you were there in my blood, your sweet words ringing in my heart, each touch burning me, brighter with so much of passion. I would always want more of you, especially now when you broke down all my walls with a mere glance and undressed all my fears, so that I was bared to you, with all my vulnerabilities out in the open. Did you want me? Did you have a need for me, as I have for you? So I couldn’t help myself but ask you the one thing I even denied myself from ever wanting to hear, “I just want to know,” Now be brave, just this once, please, please say that you do, “Do you Love me?”

Because I do.


A Volcano of Emotions


I feel a volcano of emotions
trying to explode out of your heart,
to be able to live like that,
is surely a piece of art.

Those teasing smirks that hide your shades of jealousy; quench the fire in your eyes,
And the way you look at me, it’s a gentle reminder of the vehemence of passion that you have for me.

Tell me about all your vulnerabilities,
I want to help you get over them,
Talk to me about your weaknesses,
I want to protect you from them,
Show me your desperate side and tell me what I mean to you,
I want to let my tears tell you what you mean to me.
Just let that pride fade away,
and give your heart to me,
Baby with me it’ll forever stay safe.


The Ultimate Quest


Often we find ourselves when we stand at the edge of a giant precipice. The voices of the past fade out, the darkness in the soul recedes, even the giant gaping hole of pain and misery does not overpower our decision. We know nothing awaits us down below the yawning crevice, but is knowing the only thing that can satisfy? We crave that deep satisfaction of experiencing the thrill of the downfall, our descent into something probably greater than ourselves. Loosing onself to find out the crux of the matter, finding our truth hidden beneath the masks we wear to protect the cracks on our soul. We can’t jump without the burden of these masks weighing us down, with the walls built so high and sturdy, how will the heart soar and the body fly? That tantalising pull of the unknown reels us in, the choice is simple, never knowing something which can’t be unearthed unless explored or attempting to atleast understand and skim the surface of the mysteries of life, to dive headlong without any masks, mysteries and survival tools, trusting you with yourself, knowing that the mind once possesed is limitless and hoping that you will emerge out of the abyss, a light awaiting ahead, a soft gentle glow which brings out the best in you, the parts of you, which makes you; you, the parts which the darkness could not rob. Knowing all this, still willing to take the plunge already makes you better than you were before you were faced with the choice of choosing to live your life, the way you want or the way others make you want to


I don’t miss you.

Nowadays I don’t miss you the way I used to miss you. My hand still curls around the soft pillow besides my side, looking to touch the soft strands of your copper curls, only to realise there is nothing to hold on to, but I don’t miss you as I used to before. Sometimes I catch myself smiling at the little things you used to love, like putting heaps of sugar in the always too strong coffee or eating cake just for the sake of the chocolate icing, but I don’t miss you like before. The seasons change and I always visit the place we used to meet up at, that old park with the rusty swings and broken benches, I sit down on the one we claimed was ours, the old chipping paint still showing the heart enclosed by our intials, that you made with my then new keychain, but still I don’t miss you now as I used to miss you before. It’s winter now, and the beautiful snowfall reminds me of the times we laughed and played in the snow, till we were breathless and rosy cheeked, then quietly sipped our hot chocolate wrapped up in the too big ridiculous red sweater you knitted, I still wear it now, it still is too big for me but perfect for us both as you claimed once, but I don’t miss you the way I missed you before. Everytime I open the wooden box, full of keepsakes and old crinkled letters, stained and dog eared, there in every scratchy scrawl and the loppy letters I have your words, you know, you were one of a kind, my dear, insisting on writing letters just because it was more romantic, you always were a goof. But how I treasure them now, each word bringing back your smile, each I love you, each I miss you bringing back the precious moments where we lived for a lifetime. It is like I hear you when I read them, hoping that you will respond to my whispered echoes of your name, pretend that we are together and you are laughing at me or scowling at the particularly dreadful thing I had done that day, or just you are simply there, wrapped up in my arms, the too big sweater keeping us warm; or with me again when I sit and read on our claimed spot, on that rusty old bench, carved with our heart promising forever, or with me when a kid accidently throws a snowball, and I turn around hoping that you would be ready with a snowball of our own, or with me when my hand reaches out across on the other side of the bed, so cold in so many days, just wishing that for once the hand curls around the lively copper strand like it used to, or with me when I reach across for the remote, expecting you to fight me for what we were going to watch. But you know what; I don’t miss you as I used to before, how can I ? When you are there in everything I do, in everything I am and always will be, how can I miss you, when you haven’t gone, when the pillow besides my side still faintly smells of your fragrance, when I still have the keychain that carved our always, tell me love, how can I miss something, when I don’t want to move on?

-Wings of Delight

Untamed Love


A love that loves with an untamable passion, spreading like wildfire in the veins of those who love; a love which plants the seeds of care, trust and loyalty deep within the soul, fanning the flames of lust, incinerating all the harshness, rejoicing in the reverberations of euphoria and standing firm when everything else crashes and burns. A love that perseveres, blooming and glowing, growing old and sturdy, unshakeable and enduring long after the lovers themselves turn to bones and dust; a love that clinges and lingers like the soft echoes of hearts twined so closely; that is the kind of love remembered when everything else fades into a void of darkness. That is the kind of love which transcends all rhyme or reason, that is the kind of love not understood but felt, that is the kind of once in a lifetime true love; moulding immortals out of mere mortals.

Shackles of Purity

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My family was orthodox and since childhood I was taught to respect and obey my elders. Values and traditions were a big part growing up. Since a young age I had to balance my studies with kitchen work. Often I was too exhausted to play outside with my other friends. My mother and father disliked it when I mingled with other children. I was strictly not allowed to talk with boys and men who weren’t a part of the family. A girl should be modest, a girl should learn everything related to managing the household. Studies did not take a precedent in my life. Nothing mattered than upholding the family prestige. Growing up, I learned all the tasks and did all the work my parents asked me to do. Soon I hit puberty and the laws I had to follow became stringent.
I remember that day clearly. It was raining heavily. I was 12, soon to be 13. We were completely drenched till we reached a place where I had never gone before. My mother told me we were visiting her friend. I was to behave properly in front of her. We were greeted by a kind old lady at the door. Something about her was endearing. She talked so sweetly. Soon we met her daughter and granddaughter; she was about my age, but she seemed sad somehow.Being reminded that I was to behave I didn’t ask her reason for misery. Soon they brought fruit juices and sweets. My mother smiled at me and encouraged me to eat.
I didn’t realize when the old woman and her granddaughter went inside.
“Come, let’s go in”, the daughter said.
My mother took my hand and led me inside. Just past their kitchen was a room with closed doors. We were taken further inside the house and into a room almost to the back of the house.
The room itself was very small. It consisted of a small cot covered with a white linen sheet and a thin blanket. There was a side table with a jug of water on it and a chair near the bed.
“Come child, please rest on the bed”, came the voice of the old woman. I was confused, still I obliged. My mother and the old woman’s daughter stood near the headboard. The old woman was fiddling with something in her hand. She instructed me to spread my legs as wide as I could and to lift my skirt. I was starting to feel panicked, this wasn’t normal. I looked towards my mother. She looked on with determination and pity. Suddenly the old woman yanked my undergarment down. I was well and truly scared when I saw a blade in her hands. She grasped my legs tightly and after that all I remember is screaming, “Mother, it hurts” “please mother, it hurts”. I must have screamed very badly because suddenly someone had clamped my mouth shut and then I had passed out.
Pain, blinding pain used to pass through my legs whenever I tried to stand. I had lost a lot of blood. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t sleep. I was blinded by the haze of pain. All my conscious moments were spent crying and screaming, the pain between my legs was constant for many many days. Eventually I had to stand, eventually I had to go home. My pain was so great that I couldn’t go to school. I dropped out. All my days were spent soothing my pain. Many months passed, the pain receded to a dull thud. Always present but I had to carry on with my duties. Never knowing what was done to me. All my mother said on the matter was, “Now you are pure.” Years passed and soon I dutifully married. My wedding night was a nightmare. It was horrifying, I soon realized all my pleasure was robbed, and denied. Something beautiful was taken away from me. I had to bear the pain day by day, I used to tremble at the thought of night. I could barely walk for many days at a stretch. I learnt that I couldn’t give birth to a child due to the severity of the damage done to me. That day I came to know what was done to me. I was a victim of female genital mutilation. The cuts on my nether parts had left me ruined.
My purity had dealt me a heavy hand of pain and suffering.
All the beautiful experiences a normal woman should undergo were brutal or impossible to experience for me.
My lips were sealed shut. My purity was a curse to my body. Being a woman , indeed I had paid a hefty price.