Poetry, Wellness, 1 min read, ▲Bristi SonowalDepression, Suicide, India

The Storm

Poetry, Wellness, 1 min read, ▲Bristi SonowalDepression, Suicide, India
The Storm

I stand there, at the end of the cliff
Where just looking down makes me feel sick.

Suddenly the thunder roars and lighting strikes;
I jerk back to my senses
And realize, I was just about to take my life.

Shocked and petrified I take a step back;
Fall down on the ground, with disbelief I stare blank.

I go numb, unable to move an inch
Those nightmarish memories haunt me and cut me deep.

Slowly and steadily once again the pain I feel
Tears stream down my cheeks as the rain pours in.

My heart aches with sadness and grief unsaid,
But flashes of family and friends come before my eyes,
The happy memories beg me to return by.

The cool rain drops make my burning skin feel nice somehow;
My head clears just like the black clouds in the sky,
And my face lights up as the first ray of light hits the ground.

An inquisitive soul with many questions in search of brain food!

Activism, 6 min readMariyam BegumReproductive Rights, Sri Lanka

The Life Within Me

I have society to fear, its grueling questions. While you might be the person telling me that it is a sin to kill the embryo growing within me, I also know you are among the people who would question my character and my chastity. I know, I shouldn’t fear the world created by the generations before me, but everyone existing in its aftermath hasn’t made it easier for me. Maybe you can’t be supportive of my decisions, maybe you’ll be in constant disagreement; nor would I ask you not to be.  But please, respect my being, accept my choices and do not decide them for me.

Activism, 6 min readMariyam BegumReproductive Rights, Sri Lanka
The Life Within Me
Family, 4 min readAnjee ChawalMother-Daughter Love, Filial Relationship, Nepal

In Her Absence

When I entered the hospital room, she was leaning against the window on her bed. It was a warm sunny day. But her face was mirroring dark clouds which were about to rain filled with sadness and tiredness. With her gloomy eyes watching at the sun, she must be worried about the paddy she had planted in our field a month ago. That's my mother. Wherever she would be, she won't leave worrying about her vegetable farm. She must be missing home and family too.

Family, 4 min readAnjee ChawalMother-Daughter Love, Filial Relationship, Nepal
In Her Absence