Road To The Rainbow

π—Ÿπ—œπ—šπ—›π—§π—‘π—œπ—‘π—šβš‘ It feels wrong to speak of rainbows. To write about them is like trying to put a net around the breeze, to attempt to scoop up sunlight in a bowl. I have seen but a handful of rainbows and even that feels incorrect to say since I’ve never grasped at them. Just a breezy ... Read More

Smiling At Sad

We never really look at sadness. We turn away, with distractions. We attack it with rageful logic. We even edit its existence in facial expressions. SMILE! And yet, how can an emotion be small enough to fit a compartment of time, words or body? I feel like I’m too big for this life, this mood, ... Read More

A Door Called Discomfort

Some days are recuperation. Some days are comfort. And some days are sitting with discomfort because that’s the name on the door behind which we stuff pain. Maybe it’s because I am facing head-on, things that trigger me and trying to learn new responses in doing so. Maybe it’s another point on the pendulum of ... Read More

The Bureacracy Of Time Travel

In 2019, I matched with someone on a dating app. We were having a great conversation, which in itself was surprising. Trying to find anything (companionship, laughter, connection, fun, attraction) via the interwebs designed to turn human response into capitalist touchpoints – is counterintuitive. What made it extra surprising was, that this was one of ... Read More

Learning From Echoes

The thing about living through abuse, especially its public forms, is that after you get out, you start the process of surviving the memories of other people. You have to live through the echoes of the things you couldn’t hear. You remember the ones who saw you suffer & never said a word. You remember ... Read More

Reluctantly Seeking Shah Rukh Fans

I visited North India (Himachal Pradesh & Chandigarh) this week. The last time I was there was in 2018, pulled abruptly out of an impending midlife crisis & looming health scares to cremate an unexpectedly deceased relative. I’ve never liked the mountains. My only associations with them have been under duress. Cold, a weather I’ve ... Read More

The Unloving Wanting

I wonder if we fall a little too much in love with stories, especially ones we write ourselves. It’s a fallacy to call this love because this is an uncontrollable, desperate, choking stranglehold that is not loving, nurturing or caring. Love is not blind; it makes our vision clearer, if not in terms of tangible ... Read More

Pandemic Old

“How are you? How have you been? Who are you?” I don’t know how to answer these questions anymore, where once I had perfectly formulated, sure-as-steel answers. I’m still catching my breath and making sense of sounds. I’m experiencing the first summer in two years. In many ways, it is my first summer. My first, ... Read More

What’s In A Name?

IdeaSmith is not just my name My Clubhouse bio says β€œThat is my name. Say it like that only.” IdeaSmith is a filter on who bothers to read the bio and who wants you to explain why you won’t fit the boxes they have in their heads. β€œWhat an idea, sirjee” assumes gender & regional ... Read More

Punks & Cheese

You are made for instant love stories,for picture-perfect odes,for sweet-scented songs,for candy smiles& dimple kisses I carry a pen dipped in bloodA shiv serves a chalkas I punk upa symmetric story& make it minewith a sweaty handprint Which is why I say nomore often than hell yes!(the only yes I say)One of those No’s was ... Read More

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