Chronological Tea Talk

They were 5. 3 pairs of eyeglasses, 3 heads adorning short hair, 2 heads styling long locks, 4 credulous beings, 1 with an attitude and a story.   4 hopeful dreamers and 1 pessimistic realist. There were always 2 sides; 4 on one side and 1 standing solely in a dark shadowed side. This wasn’t categorised, or even silently agreed upon, but it was always there; looming above their heads like the dullest of clouds on a grey day. They were 5. But 4 against 1 wasn’t a considered thought. To their foetus minds, they were just 5. They were 1 group of 5. They were there with smiles, laughs, inside jokes, planned days out and secret nicknames. They were there with pure hearts and intentions. Most importantly, they were there supporting one another. Until it happened. It was inevitable really, yet none of them saw it coming their way.  Five  left them on their side and began injecting a little bit of poison in them. Except, the poison wasn’t running through their bloodstreams,

With the first break of light through the gigantic windows of this grand almost scary house, a long yet small light beam peeks over a Dainty and an Accomplished. The first decides that the day should start beautifully; while the latter sleeps soundly. And the day begins. They wake up together, brush their teeth together and send each other the secret smiles they unconsciously pass which are only reserved from her to him and him to her. He dresses quickly giving her time to prepare herself. She dresses quickly to witness his calm morning aura. She is the only one who gets to see his thoughtful side. Him, standing in the huge proud terrace taking in the views while lost in thoughts. She could almost read his mind, yet she's always distracted by his eminence and minuteness at the same time. And the day begins. They enter the kitchen. Together. Almost as if this is a silent agreement. She starts cutting his morning vegetables to prepare hi

The lump in my throat keeps getting bulkier as I stare out of the window. The bare light of dawn seeping through trying to sneak in the slightest bit of warmth among the cool breeze that’s swaying the translucent curtains ever so delicately. It’s so silent yet so loud. My mind is racing a million miles an hour. My thoughts are overly loud that they overlap causing an incomprehensible disturbance. This surely is enough to drive anyone insane, yet I’m miraculously compos mentis . It’s so peaceful outside, contrary to how it is deep inside. I feel the urge to silent those sounds and be a part of the world around me. The sounds nobody can hear. I feel the serendipity of the small bird as it lands on the window sill a few inches before my eyes. I see the weaker tree branches dancing with the light snore of the wind and feel the urge to imitate such a carefree act. But I'm trapped. Dawn stays for an utterly limited time before bidding my supposed peacefulness a

Dearest, We grew up in a controversial society. While some have the seeds of gender equity implanted within their souls from when they were children, the majority, however, keep repeating the old and useless mantra, “women were created to serve men”. Accordingly, we were raised. You were too generous with your flaw detection, you didn’t even hesitate a second, but then again, accordingly, we were raised. You told me I’ll cause the aging process of my skin to be quickly paced by constantly carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. If I ate as much as a normal person would, I’ll be too fat, but if I kept the intake of food minimum, I’m not taking care of myself. If I take care of others, I’m not giving myself what I need, but if I give myself some time, I’ll be self-centered and selfish. If I help around, then I’m not concentrating on my studies, or scratch that, not even reading or educating myself enough, but if I spend my time reading or going out, I’m m

As a child, I used to have a wildly wandering imagination. While the things I imagined  may be insignificant and forget-worthy, however, only one reserved a striking spot in the back of mind up to this day. Imagine being chased by a giant machine that swallows people up and then returns them with no features. Two of those machines have haunted my dreams, one which was black and as I mentioned before, gigantic, the other was white and significantly smaller in size. The first swallowed people then returned them with blank faces, and the latter "printed" identical features onto the faceless beings. Ever since the vast evolution of the virtual world invaded our lives in every possible aspect, each one of us became trapped in their own pop-less bubble. We abide by the good for nothing trends that only dictate our way of living. From your makeup, your clothes, your body "type"and the words you use the most in your "normal" conversations, to how your

Feminism 'fɛmɪnɪz(ə)m' (noun) the advocacy of women's rights on the ground of the equality of the genders. Being a woman/girl in the 21st century means facing some challenges when it comes to building up your career, starting a family or even getting paid like your fellow male colleague for doing the same task at work. I'm not saying women are oppressed or that they can't find their voices in a world deafened by men's opinions, however it would be nice to know where we stand. (I won't surely be talking about the political and social movements or even the "ideologies" of feminism. That could be extremely pedantic.) Let's take a peek on the 19th century for instance. Imagine yourself adorning that vexatious corset beneath a long gown, because you are forced to do so by society. Women were expected to embroider cushions, paint portraits, play the piano forte, read extensively and speak languages fluently

I like to believe that one's life is a series of stations. Our boarding passes are our birth certificates. As we stop by, or better yet, pass by a station, the passes get punched. Each punch has a certain pattern, a unique design and a hidden story to tell. When the train stops by each station, we get to choose whether we want to get off and be content with the destination we chose, or decide to continue on board and let the train sweep us into the heart of the unknown. Each person carrying a ticket should have some company. Although not mandatory, however a companion sure helps through the bumps which the train faces. Whether that person accompanies you on your trip or you choose to let go of them is up to what we'll know in a moment. Let's agree that we're all destined to meet some people throughout our journey. Some which their company could be the most exquisite thing that can happen to us, while others are just a dreadful lesson that we must swallow. Whi

Dearest, I know it’s been ages since I last talked to you, but believe me when I say that I think about you every single waking and breathing moment. I won’t lie and tell you things are just the same as when you left, things have drastically changed. Some in a good way and some in the most horrendously aching ways ever. However, even though I won’t have the heart to spill out all the changes, but I feel the urgent need to talk to you, to consult you. I think talking about this would be stirring your rested soul, and I consider this to be one of the most disrespectful and imbecile things to do. However, since this letter won’t ever reach you, since I’m all alone in this, I’ll talk about it in hopes of seeing you one day. Perhaps then, I wouldn’t be as bitter about this as I am now. As previously mentioned, things have changed in an unrecognizable manner. We have a new addition to the family now: my cousin. You left when the previous cousin was months old. Now, a new b

She lived in a shadow, a shadow that has haunted her soul and mind, but never her heart. She laughed in the presence of people and she seems to shrug what could hurt off appearing strong and unbreakable, when deep inside that laugh was never genuine, she never shrugged off what you told her, the truth is that it's killing her, stabbing every single emotion she could bear inside. She's a good actor, pretending everything is okay became one of her prominent daily routines that she couldn't just do without. Her eyes were a darker shade of brown that once shone and were beautifully vibrant and full of life and passion. But now? .... They're lifeless, screaming all the colours of pain, describing in detail how she was utterly suffering, how she was hurt so very deeply. Nobody could see that, and she didn't blame them, how could they when she concealed everything with her " happy-go-lucky " mask, and she really pulled that mask off perfectly th