Poetry: Arya KS

Arya KS

She never anticipates a wake-up call.
Nor does the alarm clock bother to pierce 
her eardrums with its unpleasant voice.
Does the Sun turn up earlier at her bed,
only for her?
May be, the Sun is never a loving mother
who wakes up her kid everyday without fail.
For when she wakes up, a swirl of profound darkness 
is all that greets her.
A rejuvenating sip of bed coffee is yet another seasoning 
that got dissolved in the tasteless recipe of her life. 
Time, to her, runs not by the hands of a clock.
Somehow, she computes it by the 
number of chores that reach
to her worn out hands.
Steaming tea for one, 
a strong coffee for another,
a delectable breakfast arousing the taste buds, 
neatly arranged on the shiny glass table, 
the taste of which slowly dilutes in some extra salt 
or a strand of greying hair,
changing the whole happy mood!
Little do they ponder upon the extra hours of sleep 
that curl behind her hours of toil.
Morning sickness is foreign to her,
her unwavering zeal alters Monday blues
into a myriad of hues.
A train of tasks still awaiting her, 
as if she is the only passenger in it-alone and unwanted.
Her birthday never exists on the calendar!
A metamorphosed being with no peculiar wishes,
whose favourites are whatever is left after everyone's choice.
Their sorrows snatch away her short naps.
When it comes to her pains,
again, they are hers only.
But her eyes in vain, keep beckoning for a hand 
that can clasp her racing heart.
Scarlet flowers no longer bloom in her barren garden, 
for which is labelled unlovable.
All those soft caresses and silent kisses 
lurk beneath her wrinkled skin in despair.
They lauded her with two crowns- 
‘a housewife’, ‘a mother’.
Crowns with no silver laces fringed 
and diamonds embedded,
but worthier than the rarest of jewels.
Yet, she is pawned 
to the 'easy' household works.
And still, the sun keeps shining for them, 
while her nights flicker in a faint, hazy light!


I was obsessed with silence.
Silence, in all its pristine forms.
The crescent moon and a handful of shimmering pearls 
embellished the dun sky,
when silence was a passing migrant.
Blooming chamomile buds bathed in morning dew, 
stole my glance when the flowers around 
swayed quietly to the cool breeze.

Ebbing waves fascinated me.
The azure sea was much more alluring,
immersing my wavering heart 
into fathomless calmness.
3:am with coffee cup and cookies,
spinning poems and gazing stars- 
The prompt was 'silence.'
It was my safe haven
from the maddening clamour.

Silence eventually turned intimidating,
and I never felt the same.
It has yet another unseen visage,
far from that which I loved;
one which subdues the entire universe.

Silence is the inaudible peal of suppressed tears,
crushed spirits and muted anger.
The exhausted heave of toiling hands,
the pain of unexpected departures.
The mistaken 'yes' of an ungranted consent.
It's the only resort of helpless emotions
flaming beneath disguised smiles.
When false apologies and pretentious remorse 
wear a mask of silence,
unwilling approvals retaliate with a bland nod.

Words are calm when flowing through veins, 
sweet when inked to letters.
I never find such tranquil love in those untimely gush 
of spiteful utterances people make at times!
I despise frightening silences,
saturated with a thousand whips of hatred.
I wished if the silence were comforting,
like a serene autumn leaf
which falls out of nowhere, 
making my childish heart leap with joy.
Silence no longer offers promises.
Nor does it whisper applauses and secret tales.

Sensations knelt before silence.
Moving aloof, it drew me closer.
I was awakened from the vociferous nightmare 
that entrammelled all of my silent, colourful dreams.
A deafening silence raged in my ears
and I kept searching for its voice!


Back then, I always equated 
smile with happiness.
Today, I know to smile
even when I'm not that happy.
Back then, I had well set criteria 
for picking friends.
Today, anybody is a friend as long as
they are sincere and open-hearted. 
All of you who read this are my friends
'unless you prove otherwise.'
Simple as that.
Masked hearts then, now masked faces too!
Back then I believed, one fine day, 
Everything will turn out to be perfect 
and I'll be the happiest person on earth.
Today, I realize that it was nothing more than 
a utopian dream.
Problems grow like weeds every other day.
Better sprout amidst them, grow tall and 
find joy in the moment.
Back then, I thought talking to my 'best friend'
was the only way I could let my sorrow out.
Today, I find my Poetic Muse 
a better listener at times.
But I don't deny the unspoken magic 
of an ear that never gets tired of emotions 
and a heart that never runs out of patience.
Back then, I believed in knowing 
a person completely.
Today I realize each one holds a million tales
of fathomless mystery in their eyes.
Even me.
Back then, I cared a lot 
about what will 'they' think.
Today, I do not care much because,
why should I?
I'm done with clarifications, apologies and pretence.
Back then, I made my poems rhyme,
but I no longer try to.
Back then, I wrote for myself.
Today, I do little of that.
Back then, I waited for the impossible to happen.
Today, I walk hand in hand with miserable times
holding a candle of hope
and let things happen on its own.
Back then, I wanted to be in a circle.
Today, I'm glad being a dot.
Back then, my definition of love was different.
Today, it's more inclusive, broad and beautiful.
And that, I say with pride.
A lot has changed.
I no longer view life through my old telescope.
It has rusted and I realize, it showed me 
everything a bit enormous.
But life is way too short.
I don't really know when this
'back then' shifted to 'today'.
May be within all these years or with an experience
I had a few days before or that I'll have an hour after.
But definitely,
A lot has changed!

BIO: Arya K S is an aspiring writer from Kerala, India and is currently a post graduate student of English and Comparative Literature at Pondicherry Central University. As a person who views every little thing around her with a poetic heart, she captures the true essence of life and human feelings through her powerful words. Her poems have appeared in many anthologies and magazines. She also pens down her musings on Instagram @letter_shore


  1. Wonderful job my dear😍😍😘😘😘.keep producing more nd more....

  2. A deafening silence raged in my ears
    and I kept searching for its voice! ❤️

  3. A deafening silence raged in my ears
    and I kept searching for its voice!❤️

  4. A deafening silence raged in my ears
    and I kept searching for its voice!❤️

  5. Arya, Enjoyed Ruminations best. Subtly powerful. Keep writing and keep breaking pretences.

  6. Really fresh and fine creative outpouring from a young poet...enjoyed


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