Rising From The Ruins

A guy born from an Indian womb,
Shaming another Indian woman—how crude.
No shred of originality within you,
Yet you say I’m the one losing control.

Your ego, your misogynistic tricks,
It is clear to me and easily fixed.
Now you think you see the world anew,
But you're just catching up to my point of view.

You were the one crippled by your own shame,
And thought I wanted you for your name?
I let go of every jibe you threw,
A simpleton with hardly any of his own views.

But did I ever look down on you?
No—yet you do, to those not at your level.
You measure by the surface, the height, the face,
But depth is something you can never embrace.

I felt all the pain deep in my bones,
And you think I can’t take on your tiny pebbles and stones?
You throw your words like they’ll tear me apart,
But I’ve weathered storms, and you’ll never touch my heart.

Will I let this go?
I stand up to people twice my size,
Because justice denied is justice died.
The audacity of you to say my care was fake,
But I always rise from the dead,
You can't kill me with a simple wooden stake.

~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Polished Sins

A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.

Till You Sing

Some would say men went to war for women like you, But I would still choose war if it meant choosing you. You say you write in amorous lines, But I would let you be the woman of my tribe. You had your adventures Under The Buda Moon, But have you been loved past noon? So I can see you shine like a magical flower, In the quiet warmth of the golden hour. The invisible strings pull at my heart Can I do justice to your name? Caress you right, Till you sing like a Carnatic hymn. Inspired by the author of Under The Buda Moon, Veena Rao

Cruising Alone

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