Collaboration Poem: A Quarantine Letter

From

The collaborators of this poem,

@Various_Handles,

in Instagram,

on the World Wide Web,

I.P: 108.11.0.1 (obviously imaginary)

Date - 23rd July 2020

Maitreyi K

@maitreyi_parinaama

in Instagram,

on the World Wide Web,

I.P: 111.11.0..1 (not really)

Through

A Post

Hi maitreyi_parinaama👋,

How are you dealing with 2020, so far?

Working all night, sleeping all day,

Missing those idiots who make me laugh,

Spending the days that never return,

I feel so dumb right now

6 words are not enough

To explain this madness!

Chores, Rationing, Fear!

My daughter, Family, Frustration!

I do hope that you make

Your quarantine insanely productive.

Yours truly

(with a mask)

Your collab poetry

Click above to see the post!

Karmic Forces (1) - Conversations

This is the first part in a 6 part fictional story series. Everything in this story is purely imaginary with inspirations from real life. Any resemblances to any person or occasion in real life is completely coincidental. 1. Conversations Tired out by the activities of the day, Miraa changed into her loose yellow t shirt and black pants, turned on the AC, curled up in her bed, comforter carelessly strewn over her feet, nose hooked inside a book, eyes and mind engrossed in its contents. She was a 20 year old college goer, with small, brown eyes, a rather flat nose, a set of imperfect, yellowish, crooked teeth and with wavy, shoulder-length, black hair now tied in a characteristic bun, with a milky complexion. As she continued reading, a chill went down her spine. The chill had nothing to do with the atmosphere provided by the air conditioner nor with the gripping story of the book. A feeling of being watched, almost that of being quietly examined, suddenly made her feel vulne...

Karmic Forces (2) - Perspective

This is the second part in a 6 part fictional story series. Everything in this story is purely imaginary with inspirations from real life. Any resemblance to any person or occasion in real life is completely coincidental. 2. Perspective Miraa got up from the bathroom floor, disoriented. She heard her mother bang on the room's door, shouting, "Miraa, what do you want for breakfast? When is your next class?" . Relieved that her mother had not sensed her internal battle in the bathroom, Miraa got out of the bathroom, went to the her room's door and tried to reply as calmly as possible, " Anything but Upma ma! My next class is at 12!" . She hadn't done a good job of covering up her weak, broken voice, since pat came the next interrogation, " Your voice is low dear.. what happened? Are you okay? Was it another nightmare?" . Miraa smiled, understanding her mom's concern. She had had nightmares of her abuser chasing her, finding her, torturing he...

But what if

I know I can sing but what if I get a roasting? I know I can dance but what if I mess up my chance? I know I can write but what if it's not right? I know I can seize the stage but what if I stutter and disengage? I know I can act but what if I can't make an impact? I know I can speak but what if I sound meek? I know I don't want to be like the rest but what if I am not the best? I know I can put up a fight but what if I fail downright? I know I want to be in my own skin but what if I don't fit in? I know I have a voice but what if nobody accepts my choice? I know I can soar high but what if nobody wants to see me fly? I know I have my own vibe but what if I never find my tribe? I know I can stay strong but tell me, just for how long?

PARINAAMA

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