Diamond In The Rough

Sometimes, the world around us feels like an unrelenting storm. People may doubt us, try to tame us, or even shackle our spirits. Yet, amid all this external chaos, the loudest critic often resides within—our own inner voice. It’s the voice that magnifies our fears, punches harder than anyone else, and tells us we're not enough.

Ever noticed how comparing yourself to someone else’s progress makes you forget your own? How the fear of confronting your shadows and challenges can make you shrink away from your potential? In those moments, when the weight feels unbearable, it’s time to say it out loud: “Silencio, Bruno!” (Yes, Disney-Pixar fans, you’ll catch my drift!) Sometimes, the real battle is silencing Bruno in our heads—the one that whispers doubts louder than dreams.

For me, this poem is also a reminder of my name, Kanika. Just as a diamond starts as a humble atom but emerges dazzling and unbreakable, I too strive to refine and justify my essence. So here’s a piece that’s not just for you, but for me too—a testament to rising above doubts, whether from within or without.

You can call me names,
You can try to hold me with your chains.
You can try to break me,
You can try to stake me.

You can dim my light,
Make my life a gloomy night.
You can try to make me lose my sight,
Paint your lies in shades of white.

You can pour gasoline on my dreams,
Try to muffle my rising screams.
You can hold me down,
Or try to snatch my crown.

One thing you can't take from me is my will to fight.

Through the fire, I refine,
Through the storms, I still align.
Each scar, a story carved in stone,
Each fall, a strength I call my own.

As I rise, unyielding, tough,
Shining bright, a diamond in the rough.

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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