Bit by bit the splintered day has ended,
The night is all in shreds,
To each of us is given just as much
As we can carry.
The spattering, singing drops of rain
Hold poison and immortality too.
My eyes laugh, my heart rains tears,
Such is the monsoon I’ve been granted.
Whenever I’ve strained to know myself
I’ve heard a chuckle,
As if someone within me spoke and said,
In this game you’ll be fooled again.
What does defeat mean, or waiting,
When an endless trek is my allotted fate?
When my heart was gifted to me, as companion,
As unrest walked alongside.
My favorite thing to do is observe white people when they’re eating Indian food and you can visibly see the tears coming out of their eyes and I’m just like “yesss cry bitch cry that’s for colonizing my people how do u like that curry now bitch?”
and if you’re desi (or a poc) raising a son:
please dont let them think they can talk over women
please teach them to help out around the house
please make them responsible for their actions
please don’t assert hypermasculinity as the norm
please let them cry, cry with them
please don’t let them use drugs or alcohol to cope with problems
please raise them to respect, and care for women’s feelings
please dont raise fuckboys
I’M GONNA BE OKAY I’VE GOT PEOPLE WHO LOVE ME EVEN WHEN I DON’T REALLY DESERVE IT I’VE GOT THINGS TO LOOK FORWARD TO AND PEOPLE TO LOVE AND DOGS TO PET AND RAIN TO LISTEN TO AND I’M GONNA BE OKAY WE’RE GONNA BE OKAY
Life goes on.
People come and go.
But Samosas, Samosas will always be Samosas.