The path to my soul
Is hardly paved with gold
It’s thorny
And prickly
And it’s both hot and very cold
But traverse it, if you will
Thaw and melt along the way
Walk through the twists
And through its turns must you sway
Show me who you are, my dear
And then I’d be sold.
There’s a small city
On the other side of the world
With the tiniest shoreline
But the clearest skyline
And a heart of pure gold.
Hi people,
How’s this new year treating you?
How many resolutions are still a go?
For those with the travel bug, what’s one city which makes you feel more at home than home itself? I’d love to know!
Cheers and keep smiling.
As always, thank you for reading!
Love,
Varnika
Featured image ©Varnika Jain
The things we think we know
Are the ones we know of the least
For its the things we don’t think we know
Which we make an effort to find out
Study
Observe
And retain
So don’t tell me that you know me, darling
Tell me that you don’t
Atleast then I’d know
You’ll be willing to see me.
Would it be a new start
Straight from the heart
Or is it an art
To slyly depart
And leave me alone in tatters?
‘Twas the night before Christmas
And I was alone in a strange city
Scrolling through Insta stories
Living vicariously
Such happy, holiday pictures
What magnificent plans
Everyone had stepped out for Christmas
But that wasn’t meant for me
I snuggled further inside my blanket
Stretching my toes a tad
The night before Christmas
Would be the only miracle I had
I’ll wake up tomorrow morning with an unfilled stocking
No gift tucked under my pillow
And no screams of heady delight
But
I’ll be alright
Because the miracle of Christmas
Isn’t in the gifts, the tree or the plans
It’s the strength to wake up
On Christmas morning
Ready to face the world anew.
This Christmas let’s remember the ones without family, the ones away from home, the ones who can’t afford gifts, or even a makeshift home. To each and every one of you, I wish the very best. We’ll all get through it together, bit by bit. And always know that the doors to my home and heart are always open – if there’s anything you’re struggling with, please don’t hesitate to drop me a word at varnikajain92@gmail.com. I promise to listen, to love and to bring back a smile.
I hope you all have a very, merry Christmas!
Love,
Varnika
It dawns on you
All of a sudden
Like the brightness of a quick, summer day
It passes you by
Through sleep laden eyes
In the lazy, hazy afternoons of youth
It comes to you
Under a starlight sky
When the moon decides to hide
Behind a curtain of silvery fluff
As you sit beside your fireplace
Warming your hands
Resting in your favourite armchair
With your feet propped up on a fading ottoman
And little kids, resembling you, hanging on to your every word
Yes, it’s true
Life passes you by
Little by little
And then a lot
While you’re too busy
To spare it a passing thought.
Hello, my lovelies!
It’s been a while since I’ve spoken with you. How have you been? I wish you a very, merry Christmas and the best of tidings for a prosperous new year! I hope this festive season and joyful spirit is the best you’ve had till now but the least of the ones to come. Spread a little cheer around, will you?
See you next year, my loves 😘.
As always,
Thank you for reading.
Best wishes,
Varnika.
That nagging feeling
Of something about to go horribly awry
Didn’t let me sleep that night
Maybe, it was for the best
Because who knows if I’d dozed off
Would I have woken up as the same person again
In this world of ever changing personalities
I’ve become a stranger
To my own self
And there’s a feeling
That I’m veiwing
My own life as it passes me by
Like a horrible, macabre kaleidoscope
Like an out of body experience
Slightly surreal
Mostly transcendental
I wish I knew
Of what to hope
For the one I see
Or
The one I feel
I’m not two-faced, no
Nor am I unity
For divided I stand
As separate entities
Still lying in wait
To form my true identity
Every crease around my eye
Tells of moment full of joy
Every curve near my mouth
Is a testament of a laugh
Every blemish, every scar,
Every single unhealed mark
Is a story
Ready to burst forth
Listen, if you will
For these aren’t wrinkles
On my face
To show that I survived
But an ode to a life
Well loved, cherished and lived.
In a room with no doors
There’s a window with no bars
Alas, it’s too small to creep through
Yet big enough to see it all
The taste of sweet freedom
Lingers yet on the tongue
The joy of easy escape
Eludes the prisoner
Like the great Houdini
But
In the room with no doors
There’s a window with no bars
And that’s why
I can feel
The walls close in on me.
They say she reads a little too much
And, hence
Is disconnected from reality
Living in a whole other world
But it’s because she reads a little too much
That she observes a little extra
Thinks a little more
Sees through all pretences
Can even finish your sentences
Every shift in your mood she senses
Breaks every matter down to its basest essences
So, you see
She dances with angels
And tangoes with mankind
She feasts with the devil
And serenades its hellish demons
She brings about some semblance
Of balance and harmony
Why?
Because, my dear, she reads.
