Death the Leveller


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The glories of our blood and state

Are shadows, not substantial things

There is no armour against Fate;

Death lays its icy hands on kings:

Sceptre and Crown

Must tumble down,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade


Some men with swords may reap the field,

And plant fresh laurels where they kill:

But their strong nerves at last must yield;

They tame but one another still:

Early or Late

They stoop to fate,

And must give up their murmuring breath

When they, pale captives, creep to death.


The garlands wither on your brow,

Then boast no more of your mighty deeds!

Upon Death’s purple altar now

See where the victor-victim bleeds.

Your heads must come

To the cold tomb:

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.


– James Shirley





in steps. in steps it keeps coming.

keeps clearing
i keep going back
coding back
sieving analysing
putting it back

with care

the change in me from then. Incredible change.
After the first blow, I was silent. Silent to see this fakeness, couldn’t comprehend. Used to stare, look at people, not talk. Less talk. Before that I was confident.
Started talking in friends, mirroring them, their behavior, learning that they are not bad actually. But always seeing it in the face.

Learning the insecurities as well. Learning to look at myself from another’s eyes. Learning the terms and pomp of this world.

I became that. I suffered. I made people suffer. He broke some of it. I went along. Idealised him, and me. Failed.
Saw myself, incredibly flawed. Couldn’t take it.
Panic. Diary. Writing. Incredible loneliness.

Bangalore, writing, on my own. Misery.
Bombay. Fear of public. Terror. Wanting to improve, first expression.

LA. Wanting badly to improve. Guilt. No comfort. Sexual fear. Unable to comprehend a person.

Bombay. Business, self worth, positives,
IDC, positives, clarity, people. I listen to them
I get carried away. IIT B vaccum. Was not like this when I came here.
People and their smiles. Make me smile. A prison of smile.
Love is what cages me.
Love is what bruises me. I stand up. Scream. No one understands.
I am tired, very much. Very much.
Still unable to understand.
Read. Know. Read. Understand.
I am overwhelmed, by the misery, by the available knowledge and by the failure to use that knowledge.

I am tired of the eyes looking at me.

I talk. Open. My mind.
Clarify my mind.
I am sorted.
Then entangled.
With him.
We run
We crash
Major hurt
Incredibly hurt, I was.
I saw it all
I stay still
it comes back
in steps

in steps

I come back.
In spurts
I see myself
I see the balance
I see my flaws
Again and Again
and Again
I see my fears
I thought I didn’t have
I see my mind
blanketing my fears
and lying to me
it does not speak to me
I does not know how to speak
It just shows

when I give it the space

I understand.
I know.
What connects us.
I need to learn
How to do it
How to balance
My body
I need to feel again
These roles
stamped on me
By myself
I need to wipe off
And not look back
I was petrified
To see myself
to see my room
who am I
whose is this body
I am not this
So weird
it was
I am something else

And i need to carve it out

Love cannot hold me
You cannot hold me
I won’t let
In me is everything
I won’t smile back and gel
even though I love
or because I love
I won’t
I will fight
For myself
I know the direction
I know the fountain
I need to learn the way

Help me