Words, Camera, Action!

Take 1:

How do your actions speak louder than your words?

Take 2:

How are your words less impactful than your actions?

Take 3:

Don’t words and actions compliment each other?


If they don’t, for someone who is terrified of making wrong assumptions, they should.

Forget that, they just should. Period. Life would be a lot simpler.

They just should because they can.

Words are an outward expression of inward thoughts. So are actions. Come to think of it, in that case, aren’t they same?




by Dieder Plu


She probably doesn’t know. I can’t remember if I ever told her. I used to be content with being a mole. Staring at the ceiling for hours on end, keeping my thoughts and my thoughts about my thoughts to myself.

One content mole.

I did not see anything wrong with self harm. It was logical. I thought something, I thought about what I thought, I felt something and I needed an outlet. Sometimes writing would suffice, sometimes drawing, listening to music, and when none of it worked self-harm did.

I was growing.

But I was growing inwards.

I was growing deeper, and instead of achieving some sort of nirvana, I was feeling more. I was feeling too much. Pain.

Crawling out, one day, I heard that self – harm is not cool. I wondered why, crawled back in, contemplated and it made sense. So what do I do when it all gets too much, I decided, I’d interact with people.

It’s funny, this was about 15 years ago.

I gave people a chance and never looked back. I thought, I = depression. When I felt like people failed me, I would correct myself and decide that I failed myself. I needed to be smarter, wiser, better. I learnt so much, I grew differently. I learnt that being by myself did not have to turn into a depressive cycle. There’s work-life balance, and there’s social-individual life balance.

I’m still figuring out the latter.

She doesn’t know that, she doesn’t need to know that.

I think.

And now a mountain’s been made out of a molehill.

I Got What I Want

Oh shit, I just realized I got what I wanted.

I wanted family. I wanted blood. You became family. You became blood.

Was I ignored? Yes.

Did I fight to be seen? Yes

The atriums and ventricles of this stupid, stupid heart, lay recoiling under the sun. You saw it, I know you did. They saw it, I know they did. You all recognized it.

I promise I tried to put all my pieces back together again.

I didn’t need a saviour, ever.

But I did need a bit of muscle.

You walked by with a bit of sympathy and a bit of disgust. You walked away in spite of being aware. So did they.

You were not very different from the family I knew.

I got what I wanted. And I can’t believe I almost did it again…

I reconstructed that umbilical noose and cut my ties, only to recreate them in you.

Stupid, stupid heart.

Now, I truly understand the meaning of the quote….

“We accept the love we think we deserve.” – Stephen Chbosky


Identity – Silpa Saseendran


And you. You with your kind eyes, and words. You with that hand reaching out to me…

You think I’m going to go back to that?

You don’t know me.

You don’t know me…yet.

So sit back down, please.

If I’m going to take months to process it, I damn right will.

I have nothing left to lose. Which is fitting.

Now, I have everything to gain.

All That I Know Now

There was so much noise, so much music around us.

People would visit all the time.

Christmas was eventful because, presents. Birthdays were bigger because, well presents also. They were better because they were just about each one of us.


And cake. So much cake. Food in general.

Food was a thing for us, wasn’t it?

Ice creams, chocolates, baklava, jalebis and laddus.

What were we celebrating when there were no obvious reasons to celebrate?



Success and the proximity of one’s dreams, lingering so close, around that corner?

I’d linger and take a right around that corner. I found chaos and contradiction behind the closed doors and four walls. Candles got blown, balloons burst, and the cello tape couldn’t hold the streamers up. The masking tape would pull the paint off.

I’d linger into the alleys where you would have nothing to give me. Where they would have nothing to offer.

Self – hate.

Now, 23 years away from the most evocative memory, I realize that I’ll take all the love you can give me or nothing at all.

No-face from Spirited Away


What did you say?

You look them deadpan in the eye and lie with one word.

Yes. No. A deadpan stare. It leaves them too distraught to question you.

I didn’t question you because I thought there was goodness in you.

I wasn’t distraught, idiot, I trusted you.

When I saw you, I saw red. Behind the green waves that crashed into your rocky irises I saw red. Why did I see red? What did red stand for? Honesty, I thought. Vigor, passion and resolve.

I may have thought wrong.

I’m a better person around you. Lie. You’re the most normal person I know. Lie.


I wasn’t in love, I enjoyed your company. I didn’t want your time, just your honesty.

I wandered and I wandered through the spaces in my life. I wasn’t there to change your course, I was there to share experiences.

What else was a lie? I wonder and I wonder.

And if there was only the one thing you lied about, your single-worded, single-lie. It doesn’t matter.

Because if silence is your defence mechanism.

This will be mine.

It was all a lie.

Red, lies.

SO-BE-IT- Keane
So Be It

Burst My Bubble

I’d write a revelation on a post-it and stick it on the fridge, almost everyday, almost religiously, for a month.

I was going to learn the meaning of life. I was going to figure things out, have answers.

I felt mature, I felt smart. Things clicked in my head, I was on the move. But come nightfall, the momentum kicked me out of the house and into the arms of the world.

I thought it was okay. I was having growing pains and the comfort of all these distractions was my reward for adulting.

At the end of the month, I took down all the post-it’s . I must have learnt everything I needed to, I thought. I stood with my back straight, my brain as light and clear as a bubble and you came back.

The thing about bubbles is, they are pretty, but they pop.

Max Beckmann – Soap Bubbles

How Do You Dare to Look This Beautiful

I drove and drove.

I drove hoping that you’d hide behind a building.

But no.

This city is constantly under construction yet you had decided to rise above it and glow.

The moon.

dali la luna

I remember a time when I’d see you and stare and take a deep breath in. I’d be in awe, at peace, at ease.

Then I learnt how to share that awe, that ease with him. I learnt the beauty in shared experiences.

And now, I’ve had to push him away. But you, you insist on showing your face.

Show me some empathy and leave…