The Truth About Fairy Tales

A long, long time ago

I was told a fairy tale

Of a knight with a sword

And a lady in lace

It had something do

With a witch banished in disgrace

It was a plot forged in revenge

And yet a lesson it taught

Of how vengeance is futile

And true love triumphs above all

There were dungeons and dragons

And towers encasing rickety steps

There were woods and forests

With singing birds

And talking beasts

There was a palace too

Prone to throwing balls

And many a royal feasts

But something was deeply lacking

Which no ‘moral’ could ever redeem

Comedy, tragedy, romance and felicity

It had it all in equal measure

I just wonder whatever happened to reality.

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To Do or Not to Do – What’s the proper way of skincare?

I don’t own a lot of cosmetics. Frankly, even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I’m more of a lightly kohl-lined eyes and a tinted lip balm kind of girl. Not that I have anything against makeup. I just never felt any need for it. So, when countless tutorials pop up as YouTube ads, and hordes of fashion and lifestyle influencers vouch for the virtues of a newly launched product, I feel slightly intimidated and subdued. Most of all, I feel if there was something I haven’t been doing that I absolutely should have been! Am I letting my skin die? Am I letting my body down? Do I need to develop a night-time ritual and a day-time one? Do I need to go the parlour more often? How much moisturising is enough moisturizing?

And answers I have none. So if any of you would be so kind as to solve my dilemma, I’d be eternally grateful. If you’ve used products for skin care or have home remedies for common skin and body ailments as well as preventive measures, please drop your valuable insight in the comments section down below. You’d be saving a girl!

Remember, real queens fix each other’s crowns!

Thank you.

P.S. – I can see you liking the post but I don’t see any comments, sirs and ma’ams. Get on on it, pretty please?

Suppositions

Shhh…my dear

Don’t you know

Girls are meant to be seen

And not heard

Hush, young lady

Stop reading and writing

Girls aren’t supposed to think

Shut up, don’t whine

Bear it all with a smile

For everyone knows, girls aren’t supposed to feel

You’ll understand it better, darling

Once you’re older and wiser

But

How’s that possible

When I can see

Girls aren’t supposed to live.

This Was A Man

His life was gentle,

and the elements so mixed in him

that nature might stand up and say to all the world,

“This was a man!”

– Sir William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

It takes mere biology to bear an offspring

But it takes a certain strength of character

To be a father

His is a life made of sacrifices, compromises, selflessness and compassion

Dreams and ambition, too

But for someone other than his own self

Never have I seen him as happy at his own achievements

As when he saw me complete even the most simplest of tasks

It didn’t take me many years to get embarrassed at the way he always seemed to show me off

Not that it deterred him one bit

But despite the embarrassments, blushes and “oh stop it please, dad!”

If I can make my way in this world with a head held high

It’s because I’m protected by an infallible armour

Woven out of love

They say fathers have a special bond with daughters

It’s a relationship forged beyond the realms of human understanding

I don’t know why they say that though

Because I’ve understood it since long before I could speak or walk

I’ve known it because I’ve seen it reflected in the eyes of my father

In his smiles

In his gentle, warm hugs

In his proud pats on the back

I wish

I could ever be able to deserve

The man that he is

I hope I’d be able to be even half

Of the man that he is

I’d feel my work here was done

If I could be fortunate enough to bring up

A man

Like he is

And then I wouldn’t have to wonder about

The fate of this world.

Wish you a very Happy Father’s Day, Papa! You’re the strength of my conviction 😘.

Here’s cherishing each and every one of these great men.

Love,

Varnika

Requiem

If you could go back in time

And undo just one thing in your past

What would it be, dear?

Would you clear up your deepest regret

Or

Would you overcome your greatest fear

Or

Have you lived a life so well loved

That the future, present and past

Are all merged and submerged

Into a whirl of beautiful colours

And you’d sit back

And watch

The kaleidoscope of life

Spinning a riveting tale

That no dark clouds could ever taint

Or would you stare on

At a canvas blank

Still begging for its first ever

Splattering or paint.

Irony

It is in the nature of men

To covet the unrequited

And to discard an easy gain

Life itself reads like a game

A little sorrow

A whole lot of pain

Yet human spirit perseveres

After what it most desires

Little realising

That the best things

Come as rewards for our endurance

Picked up along the way

And we belittle them

Thinking of god-sends as an easy lay.

Perceptions

It matters not how one really is

But how he is perceived

In between the lies that fill this gap

Lie many a broken lives

a myriad shattered dreams

a host of lost smiles

and the shards of hearts crushed.

The Things that Count

Little did I know

that it’s the little things that count

For you made me believe

even everything wasn’t enough

so when someone else

actually deigned to care

I cringed

And frowned

And ran the other way

It’s strange how one’s perceptions

are moulded by others

The opposite of rose-tinted glasses, I think

I wish I’d learn

to take them off soon enough

So I wouldn’t drive away a good thing

if it came my way

Because the little things I talked about?

they happen to make my day.

Why a Poet #5

I’ve been asked

How I pick my words, my lines, my phrases

Do I mould them as per my mood

Or do I let the ink guide me

Do I pick a theme, a prompt, a muse

Or do I succumb to verbal epiphany

Have I ever seen a plot

when looking out the window

Or have I lost track of my thoughts

while drowning in lyrical melody

Wise questions these be

one and all

With answers more than many

I write not because words come to me

I write

because of who I am

I do not sketch a map, a plot or outline

Neither do I choose a setting

I do not gush out words like a pump

nor sit on a piece for days

I write not when things come to me

I write when they make sense

I write for myself at times

and at times for the eyes of another

I write for the world at large

and at times I cross out an entire piece

never to see the light of the day

You ask me how I write

You should have asked

why I write

Instead.

 

Thank you so much everyone for showering so much love on the ‘Why A Poet” series. I am beyond grateful. Looking forward to your views on this piece too. So, please don’t forget to leave your thoughts in the comments section down below.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

Love,

Varnika.

P.S. – To read the first four features in the “Why a Poet” series, please click on the links below:

1. Why a Poet

2. Why a Poet #2

3. Why a Poet #3

4. Why a Poet #4

 

Look, I Made it Rhyme!

Something in the wind has caught my name

This strong rustling couldn’t be just inane

I wonder if things will ever be the same

Once we’re all done with the task of assigning blame

Or would we both remain

Too wild to tame

For I sure am one spunky dame

I hope you don’t think of it as a game

Oh, that’d be such a shame!