Nobody's shit

Evenings at the sidewalk are rarely this pleasant. She admires men dressed in yellow and pink in pursuit of the most delicate and aromatic flowers. Sinatra's one for my baby is playing near the pond by some young college boys to charm irises. The marigolds are trying to lose some petals and grow thorns in their stems like roses. Orchids and lilies mock marigolds for lacking dignity. The sidewalk is full of colours and men, courtesies to the much awaited rain. It's said that once when it didn't rain for a long time men had to resort to seeking flowers from even cacti. However she personally finds it ironical for during her encounters with men they mostly seem jeopardised by her. She finds lilies crass for they talk about feminism all day long but are always seeking validation. She senses a new cultural transformation these days wherein flowers no longer want to grow thorns.  Once upon a time, even lilies were desperate to be called roses but it was only after orchids came th...

When I was 5, I used to spend hours focusing at the window pane talking to myself, calling myself special, my mother used to tell me that mad people do that. I was always a notorious kid and knew no limits, not much has changed since childhood for I grew up thinking of this as my superpower. I was brought up in a middle class family by very ambitious parents. From childhood taking care of myself felt very foreign to me, and I always chose to challenge myself instead. Everything was going fine apart from the anxiety attacks, which became frequent during my teenage years. By then, I went through a series of inhumane events and I learnt that not everyone needs a reason to hurt someone. Day by day, I turned myself more and more into a recluse. I never had a lot of friends because I feared getting rejected by them for not being good enough. My mental disorder gained its gravity by my late teenage. I was always a sharp student, but having brought up in an environment of insane competition...