What ifs and should haves

I wish I could write fiction I wish I could craft some fantasy Some unreal pretending to be real A creation I can run to, the imagination I can own So that all the unloved, all the unseen all the unsaved Can be brought back The arguments can be erased, the hatred can be omitted I can forget the part where love ceased, where it all ended The nothing doesnt exist then Someone exists, someone will be there, something will remain And losing it should be impossible It should be there till the end The end can be soon, but 'the something' will stay All assured, everything sure, I will be understood then It can read my smile, if the smile is real. To know my anger is only grief To takeaway all the grief Where love is not stopped, where replacement is impossible  Where the curves and twists and dislikes are not hidden Coz in fiction is truth. Coz what's real is unbearable. The real is painful, it aches, it lies The fiction is mine, only if I cud have one. I

Tuberculosis is all around here, the very place we exist,whereever we are. It destroys all our designs, affects many things, it keeps us away from our work, people, specially from 'then friends',  relationships, career. Even takes away all the smiles, replace them with grins, unpleasant ones. It involves oppression, for you will be shrunk to the very definition of the illness, it involves people passing comments, uneasy questions, some will appear as saviors, some give motivational speeches , the illness has everything, the power, the reach,the bacteria got a way with everything that happens with you. When the patient takes the responsibility of sticking to the treatment, to the very traumatizing treatment, when we mask ourselves to not let that bacteria go anywhere else but get killed inside us what we get in return is a long list of wrong assumptions about the same. The medical reason for physical isolation maybe unavoidable but what cannot be understood is the mental isol

They couldn't  write it all Just so how much,  they decide Coz writer is the word, the box But wat they havent written Are stones in her coat's pocket Drowned. Burnt with no trace Hung, a letter remained Dead. Coz dead ones outnumber But where they thinking about death in detail so much? Or was the only aim  to not live anymore So as to unsave some love So as to not hinder some ways So as to not be laughed at So as to stop the pain Or maybe they were all murders, Just so we didn't know that proved deaths are still not proved Maybe its you who killed, maybe you are in hiding coz u know u murdered So u join when they say, they killed themselves But wen they wer alive they said each other to not die anymore. You still killed them and now when I say they need to be heard, you say, cant hear, they r dead. U don't say u killed, u say they are dead. But why did u kill?

I often get allured by the weather, caught in the moment and the least of my concern is copying their beauty into words I know once I do that, the moment"s something else, it's taken frm me forever I want me to long for nature, not enough any day.  I often close my eyes tight to think I push myself to think new words and imageries that may likely term my use of words poetic I look at the flowers, the trees, the scenes around To draw their essence right into words. They should be older than words, coz I can never describe things around with mere words. Well I could put  In words things as old as me may be Like my emotions, things in my head, it's only 23 like me Peolpe like that. They tell you if you cud explain wats going on with you,  they can help. So I decided to put my 23yr old experiences into  short essays  and explained it to them And they understood. They said, we are all struggling, I wasn't pleased much with that answer, coz if they did, they

There is this guy who urges me to write about him day and night He thinks I love to write and I am never tired of it Coz he knows why I write and why I don't He cannot accurately pick the genre, as there is none I just swiped away his text msg notification It said 'please write something for me' I want to tell him, I do not write I keep reminders to write, like this one And you mistake it for a poem Last day I had long walks with him in his dream he said So that's worth a poem he thinks Now I am conscious to write about this guy Coz he thinks I have beautiful things to write I want to tell him I only write reminders these days I forget about it and it becomes a poem, such a shame These days it's hard to even set reminders and Now I have paused opening his chat log I am afraid to tell him I do not write poems I want to tell him I write reminders these days Like this one.

I might know why you are sad I know why you think there's little time to act I know why you feel like you aren't working enough I am also aware that some days you curse yourself for resting too much You do not know what to write Though they say write what you feel, you do not know how you feel Another person told you its normal and you find it cliche You wish to film the best laughter, the ugly cries and some original stories Despite being equipped you think it's complex to handle Inspite knowing techniques you need closure from things you don't know. You miss people whom you haven't met You yearn to film stories not told yet. You wish to write, to voice, to scream To run, to travel, to laugh, to fall in loving arms, to cuddle, to love, to kiss I know why you feel this way, I guess you might be restless that you feel this way. But trust me, in this hustle, you feel human. And it matters. Love. It's okay to feel this way.

When you reach a point of going any far just to survive long Not for a vacation, not a celebration, not even a normal rest But just to sustain more, to live,  that's when memories spiral That's also when your head stay firm and realize how delicate every part of our body is Despite having many layers ;our skin tear, in spite of those membranes; we get heartaches This is when you realize how fragile human mind is, how we could breakdown with just a little too much pressure When it stops, it's gone. Then the person becomes invisible. The idea of presence doesn't occur here But hatred stays, insensitive it is, destructive it is That is when I want you to sow some seeds of love Without any frowns, too many hugs and smiles That is when ur presence is appreciated, Gone but remembered they say, not forgotten they say But their art excludes us, they own politics, they build the power Sensitive minds are laughed at, offending and violent  they create a new norma

They take and take n take Never gives. All the love, your ideas., your concepts, Leave you all stranded once we are drained out of all these They complain how less powerful, how  little spiritful we are We alter ourselves, get hopeful, enthused with promises With their assurances that they will stay But They leave Not all at once Slowly, that you start doubting that nothing ws enough No pats, encouragements were enough Now that we are drained out, even when we know they will leave We act like we don't care We pretend like we are okay We tell them we are okay to tackle it alone We tell them I got my back Knowing the cracks inside would have been mended better If at all they said" I got Your back, We got this"

Today, ask yourself since when you stopped embracing the invisibles Since wen u chose not to include them in your art, in your film, your canvas, your politics, your parties, your celebrations, everywhere Since when did you stop appreciating their presence Since when you chose to be simply pretentious so that hatred could sneak in You are all winning. Love isn't.  The structure blends with hatred pretending to be saviors Venomous but acting tolerant, just simply pretentious. Tomorrow when the sane ones unite, when real ones stand up, when original voices rise, love will sprout and the pretentious saviors of yesterday will be exposed, your poisonous propagators will be pushed to be hatred filled figures of the history,  you will be shrunken into numbers, they will not utter your name out of shame for you were hideous all this while, you pretended to save ppl, you promised them justice, you wished solidarity,. prefeclty zealed in lies, But!!! you all self centered, pseud

Here on this dry land I want a budgie aviary and chicken coop Down there in the mushy land left untouched I want that area fenced with ducklings quacking My bitches should run free from ppl who poison A fish pond with little guppies and lawn that resemble a valley A swing in the middle of the kitten house with that song of Elvis as backdrop Majestic trees with seating space, so that my lover can sneak in and we ll chat. Aloes with thick skin and succulents to decorate, This dry land will turn all flexible and nicer Bunnies will have varieties of edibles from my kitchen garden I won't listen to the oldies jus because they are old I will listen to the chirping and quacking and barking and meowing I will stare at the books in the home library and groom all those climbers near the shelves Kids from my town will then read Marx and Ambedkar, they will grow into smart bibliophiles Discourse and change will no longer be far fetching dream but real and happening in the pla

I chopped of my hair with a scissor not so sharp Last month wen I ws sick, wen I lost my mind to medicines There was immense pain I cudnt bear so I cut my hair myself Locked myself in so Amma didn't know wat ws goin on There was hair everywhere in the room and I ws fed up hiding it It ws falling every now and then and I wanted to get rid of it So I chopped it with the rusty scissor I had. I remember it ws terriblly done. I thought, for someone staying back for long an irregular haircut is not so big a deal. A mess, but I worked hard for this mess I bend my arms to reach my hair, the stretch cringed me in pain It ws pure hard work, so.i.posted my work online There wer surprises that praised my new haircut, Had they known the details, the fault would have been visible The wonder fact is I didn't have to hide the details It ws imperfect worthy to be welcomed It wasn't a mistake, but my mess ws pure hardwork.

No. You don't want that one who leaves you with this much of productivity guilt That one who sees your work like mere objects for sale The one who leaves you in chaos The one who thinks ur mental mess could be sold in profit Who thinks all your emotions are earnable Who sees a tag on you, Honey, run. No time is quicker than your goals You are right there, only if you start moving. Did the person hit you hard and call it love? Darling if it hurts you, it's not love. You know it. Love can't harm. I am sorry for this one time, I am pushing you into being an escapist, This one time I am asking you to leave This is the time my brave heart. It's high time you elope with a heart full of dreams With a soul that can contain it all.

It's only some tablets Gulp it down It's only a phase Face it alone Some injections daily You arent the only one in pain Got depression? Well, who is not Masked from normal world Oh, good for you Can't move out? Outside is no good anyway Feel unwanted? Ow, that's okay       Got any more alike useless advices??????????       Why don't you save it in your shit head ew!!!!

Hey, man from the internet Stranger whom I should be scared of My cyber love, why not ur romance is praised How come u are scrutinized without reasons And yet you make me write poems You could be someone boring May be you are also someone left out You could also be fun filled You could be a vigorous lover Why am I meant to be afraid Why do I have to be scared Do you realize how frightful this is How dreadful your kindness is For you, I am willfully hiding my anxieties There is a mess swept under the rug I am afraid you might find that one day, And I will be shrunken to a mad lady To someone hunting kind souls I dnt want to be a hunter, coz then you will look like the prey Your unkind clan will dance to that tunes My herd will then cry their hearts out Young man from the internet, my fear is real.

A note from an MDR TB patient, On: why the petition filed by drug resistant TB survivors deserves full on support and solidarity . We are witnessing a vital step taken by the drug resistant Tb survivors, challenging the massive monopoly of the pharma giant Johnson and Johnson, regarding the patent extension of the vital drug in treating MDR-TB. This huge step is initiated by two TB warriors who have battled and won the traumatizing treatment of drug resistant TB .The petition is filed by Nandita Venkitesan  from India and Phumeza Tisile from South Africa. This could be a wakeup call for all of us to look into the troublesome period that TB patients across the world go through. The fact that anyone out there who is breathing is prone to tuberculosis is sad but a bitter truth. The ending of TB, supporting the endeavours that helps in eliminating TB, fight against stigmatising the same etc..require support of all of us. It shouldn’t be a subject left to people related to the disease

In the wake of popping news reports on government’s negligence in recording health hazard victims, this is my account on my ongoing struggle with TB, being a onetime Intestinal TB survivor and a Multi drug resistant TB patient now (drug resistant is when your body is resistant to potent TB drugs ). This write up comes from someone who has already disappeared. Who has vanished from short family gatherings, college, workplace, cafe, crowd and anywhere there are people. But she has only taken a break, a break that she doesn’t want to get extended anymore. Because today she can’t take a gratifying arm stretch every morning, she throws up at the very sight of breakfast; she is rushed to the hospital every afternoon for painful injections that she can’t bear. Evenings are nightmares to her, pills are harder to take, she is acrophobic and germaphobic, there is tingling under her feet, crushing pain in the bones, unstoppable coughing ,rashes all over her body, buzzing in the ears, blurred v

Hi❤ Isn't it disheartening  to see that even being a society having large amount of people struggling with their mental afflictions ,we still haven't  recognised how complicated the subject is.  I was asked to ignore negativity and focus on the positive side of my illness,to not make a big deal out of the mental pressure. Well, its all done with the best of benevolence in them. But in the real world of experiencing this... I am no way planning to romanticise my MDR TB drug induced mental imbalance. That's why I asked for a therapist. I insisted to discuss whats going on in my head. I wouldn't hide to discuss the dangers and pain tb causes just to make things look good. we can only initiate discourse on this by passing the mic to the people with original experiences. Also at times someone's made up tips to overcome depression not substantiated by any scientific approach might draw attention and lead a huge amount of ppl to not give clinical attention to their is

Hi y'all,  so, In the initial stages of my diagnosis, my doctor after analysing the results of the CB-NAAT, declared me having MDR TB. It did not shock me since I desperately wanted answers to my unstoppable coughing , vomiting, anxieties and everything that I hated. At last there was an answer. Having massive trust in modern medication I convinced my family that all the prescribed  daily injections are okay and oral pills are fine. I was mentally well prepared. But when it started , in the second month I went to a pace of complete denial. No fact findings , nor medical jargons made sense to me. I kept questioning doctors for putting me in such a mess which they called treatment.  Most of the afflictions were drug induced.Whenever in senses, I started looking for more details about people who have faced similar phase in life. I found some brave hearts. I have completed three months of medication due to the support of these faces( with whom I am in constant communication ) .

The mental struggle is the hardest, Isolated or not you feel lonely, not been able to engage with the world I used to, here;  music doesn't help, neither book reading. Drugs trick you to a grim state, we might think we could outsmart it; but nope, it taunts, bringing an imagery of all the sufferings of the world, it mocks constantly  reminding you that there are a lot out there struggling; you never gave thoughts on them, did you? Until it caught you.

Here it is to X'mas eve, here it is to new year cheers, coz its definitely not TB day there's three or more months for TB day Big B campaigns rule that day policies come in banners of art leaders who wear gold breathe some different air.. But  we breathe and cough under the statues they build..  Ain't it their strategy to shoot issues over issues,  that let u forget little girl Vedha died of TB,right here in Kerala, highest literacy rate couldn't  notice Vedha coz TB is not fancy, But today is  no world TB day, its no March 24, Today is the time of carol cheers and santa lies Xmas booze is okay, you all get drunk its okay, I cough, crawl and throw up, so its soo much more like xmas.. Is it 2030 ? No its only 2019 nearing. 2030 is the end tb target year. But India sees 2025 the target year. Our PM tweeted,there he promised. But we were also promised some 15lakhs in money, all other promises vanishing into thin air, what we breathe is clearly toxic. Ever

My parent's  friends of friend's of friend at the hospital : oh poor you! With mask n all, Allergy? Me: nope. Its MDR-TB stay away with your child or get a mask. My parents(laughing ): u should stop freaking out ppl like that, u can get away with it, u have a mask to hide faces. * cringe*.

Hi y'all To all the angry messages, ppl who have cut me off, blocked from social sites or the ones waiting for my apologies for not keeping in touch. I have been wanting to write to all since oct 5th when my treatment started, have not been in my senses these days. I write this post as my doc said to not make my illness very public. The villain is back, this time freakishingly strong. I was diagnosed with Intestinal TB in 2015 which was cured. The  treatment resulted in some side effects like depression, visual disturbances and forgetfulness. This time the illness is back in the form of MDR-TB which is  Multi-drug-resistant tuberculosis. This killer disease comes with worse treatment side effects like hearing loss, memory issues, depression n so on. I have terrible mental imbalance, mood swings and pain from medicines and daily injections. For now i am not able to write, read and register things due to high medicine dosages. I understand that there is a lot stigma around tb, soci