Trigger Warning:- Rape, hope and everything else

Every boy I’ve ever loved had a smile that curled up inside blood. Each time he spread his hands to show me how deep his love for me was, I saw map routes to cities abandoned by him in his palm lines. Each city had a woman weeping in it. He folded his arms like a memory before I could make out who those women were.

Maa shoves a prayer down my throat saying she wishes to see me alive. I open my eyes and something sparkle inside the black of what’s left from my dream. I open my mouth and a wish leaves my tongue like a poem. I recite it again and again until my lover shuts my mouth with his.

My sister says that there’s a lady in Palastine who makes flower gardens out of Israeli gas bomb shells. And that teaches me that a ruin is not the end. It gives me hope. A hope that my ruin maybe a temple waiting to be discovered and someday someone might pray upon my doorstep and I will bloom into life.

On somedays I look out the window to see butterflies asking permission to drink honey from flowers. They flutter their wings, they land gently on their skin, they touch with at most care and then they drink the nectar like worshipping them. The very act of watching a butterfly at work is very much like a prayer. And sometimes I wish humans were also like butterflies, because then they’ll never learn to rape.

Butterflies are better when it comes to consent

Homophilia


There are two kinds of sins in this world
The first one is to love a man
And the second one is slightly dangerous
The second one lights a torch in the mouth of those who ever says it out loud
The second one binds you in a closet because you’re afraid of homophobia being shoved down your throat
Asking you to eat it up or die of asphyxiation from all hate clawing back to you from the churning sensation in that church going lady’s stomach.
But if you ask me the second one is like a flower
That grows in the feilds with weeds
Without frowning at the weeds
Because they follows acceptance
They see through the sparkle in their eyes that told them just how phobia ruins lives of people who had never even started to live.
The second one counts the ribs to tell God
He forgot to place those bones inside a woman
Hoping that God will reply, I never made a mistake when I made you
Your bones are right where they should be.
You see,
There are two kinds of sins in this world.
The first one is to love a man
And the second one is to be a man who loves a man.


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©The Rendezvous Club 2020
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Letting go


Today will be my first day
of unloving you
Even though it has been
24 days 12 hours and 6 minutes
since you left
I tried to hold on to you
for this long
And today in my dreams
I saw you leaving for one last time
And when I woke up
I decided to let you go
But letting go isn’t easy.
Letting go is like taking off
the bandage and realizing
how bad it was to not get that tetanus shot
Because now the wound is festering.
Letting go is like holding onto
to that plastic wire
Slipping off your hand
with a weight in the other end
and feel it cutting through your skin
and muscles
Letting go is like holding on
but it hurts much more.
Letting go is like that bad habbit
that you keep defending but
Even though you keep defending it
Even though you keep on trying
to hold onto to it
You’ll have to let go someday
Maybe today.


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©The Rendezvous Club 2020

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Why I have my mother’s name as my second name?

Because one day my father left
And didn’t come back.
Because he said that don’t let your daughter
Grow up like you did
Hence I decided to be the fruit of her womb.
Because she stood up for herself
And I felt empowered.
Because she showed me, we women
We can do it all alone.
Because I am from her
All this rage and love.
Because she deserves a place with me
In my victory.
Because she is the one who made it
Possible.
Because she didn’t give up.
Because she taught me courage is enough.
Because she said being a woman
Is not an end to bravery.
Because her name means the moon
And I am the sun and with her
I’m the whole freaking solar system.
Because I am from her
And I am everything she dreamt of.
Because it’s not just a name,
It’s an identity
Which is drenched in the sweat and blood
Of a woman’s life long struggle.
And because it’s possible to be named after
Your mother and still be human.

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©The Rendezvous Club 2020

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Letting Go


Sometimes I wonder was i wrong to let you go? Should I have hold on to you longer? Did I make a mistake in love? To be frank, i don’t know the answer to that. No matter how hard I try I can’t come to an actual conclusion. Questions on love will always be without an actual answer to it, Mom always used to say that. We don’t love people for a reason but on the contrary we love people because we think they will love us more, more than we love ourselves. I guess in that way we’re all selfish.

Whenever I think about love, I think of you and I always end up blaming myself for letting you go. Maybe I was wrong to do so. Because whenever I ask my heart was I right in letting you go my heart always replies holding on you to hurted much less than this heartbreak that I am suffering from now. Maybe my heart is right. Maybe holding on to you hurted much less but the thing is the more I held on to you the less I loved you. Because I had only you to blame for all the ache that I was enduring. And now that I’ve let you go, I blame myself for everything, I blame myself for giving up on us, I blame myself for letting you go. But I still love you the same and that kind of makes all this pain seem less. Because now you’ll stay the same, and you will always be the one I loved. And even though this heartbreak hurts so much now I know with time my heart will be whole again and this scar will heal but if I had hold on to you still I would have ended up hurting us both and we would have ended up loving each other less. And I guess in that way it was better, to let go.


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©The Rendezvous Club 2020

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Memory Bubble


As I close my eyes today under the ceiling fan working it’s way through the hot of January Kerala heat. I am preparing to dissolve myself into you. My body is a sweater that you have knitted around your heart and I fits you perfectly, even our hands fits perfectly like the dark and the moon. But there is a thread that’s sticking out, like a broken bone it’s so visible around the pale blue bruise and the blackish dried blood, I hope nobody pulls on that tread. I don’t want to be without you. I can’t stop feeling the warmth of your embrace leaving my heart for too long and the very thought of it is like the melancholy rain falling on my yellow umbrella with a hole in it. But I know you’ll leave. You have to leave. We knew this the day that we met that we’ll both leave and this sweater that we’ve knitted around each other will not be needed when summer arrives. But still I think I love you too much not to leave you now. And that’s why I’ve decided not to let this broken bone melt into it’s former shape or to let this bruised skin heal into what it was before. And that’s why I am letting this hurt that I am in right now to be the pain that reminds me of every memory that we had. Because in this way I’ll always be running into you every time a memory pops up.


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©The Rendezvous Club 2020

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Faraway


I cannot touch you
Neither can I suture those wounds
You showed me a picture of two days ago
Because one, I’m not a nurse or a doctor
And two, you’re so far away

I can’t touch you.
And I know that the second reason
Will always hurt me the most
Because if I was close
I would have at least called a doctor for you,
Or rushed you to a hospital
Or at least kissed your wound and
Told you it will all be fine
But you’re far away
And I only see pictures of you in wounds
And they never bleeds out of the photographs
Because they’re still
But still, they kill me
Because I cannot touch you.


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©The Rendezvous Club 2020

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What your name does to me.


Being in love with someone who’s not in love with you is punishment. My Ammi said this to me years ago and I instantly knew she was talking about herself and Abbu, but I just didn’t know who was the person who was in love until one day Abbu packed his bags and left. That day Ammi started packing a bag underneath her eyes and she had those with her until the day she died. After seeing what love can do to people I swore to God that I’ll never fall in love and that was broken the day I met you.

I remember that someone once told me, you transform in love. When in love you are the whole world and the world is you and sometimes it only takes a name, your lovers name to change your body into oceans, riverbeds and landslides and now I know that true because….

Every time I hear your name being called out it’s like the tectonic plates inside my body just shifted whilst there’s a tsunami forming above my navel and it’s snowing down the artic of my belly button while a gasping tornado just struck the Mexican walls of my rib cages as the African caves inside my throat is gasping for breath. And even though this is punishment I don’t mind being the world because love makes me universal and I’m so in love with you, I’m so in love that I now know how Ammi might have felt when she packed all those bags underneath her eyes just to be in love.


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© The Rendezvous Club 2020
All Rights Reserved!