I remember the times I was bullied.

I remember the times I was bullied.

I remember this one time,
Someone just come,
And stapled my shirt.
He didn’t just stop there,
And then started to blurt.
I remember a few pierced my skin,
Seven-year-old me bled a little.
The words were still the harshest than the pins,
And those were also brutal.
I easily coped with the pain which was corporal,
I couldn’t stop the bleeding he started which was mental.

I remember the other time when I was slapped.
My hands froze and my thinking just stopped.
I remember I was stunned with the blow.
But for fellow classmates, I didn’t put up a show.
I just went out, sat down and cried in my mind…
With the shattered glasses in my hand,
Sitting with the impaired confidence in the sand,
With no one by my side to listen to and to understand.

I remember you calling me freak and dumb,
Because I always used to feel weak and numb.
I remember you calling me stupid and weak,
But I was too scared to speak.

Yes, I was hurt for a while,
Then I started to smile.
Sometimes I struggled to survive,
But I never left hope and stayed alive.

I was beaten, tormented or sometimes teased,
Left with the wounds from all those sufferings,
But you know what I never received,
The apologies from you for doing those things.

Now I don’t want one…
I am serious.
I am done.

I have been thinking lately…

I have been thinking lately…
The journey I have had.
The times which were happy,
And those when I was sad.

The list is in the millions…
Of the roles that I have played.
With the choices, I was given…
And the decisions I have made.

Some were out of fear,
Which I want you to hear.
So that you will never repeat,
And save yourself one defeat.

Some were out of pride,
Their outcomes were satisfied.
But I was still vilified…
Because that’s how people decide.

Some because I was told to…
Actually, those were only a few,
Because deep down I always knew,
That those will never let me grew.

Some out of shame,
Because of the confidence I couldn’t attain.
For those only I am to blame.

Some of them stayed with me,
Either briefly or permanently.
But not a single one I regret…
I think that should be my epithet.

If I were ever given a chance…
I will repeat all those things again,
Because it’s not about the ending,
But the struggle and the pain.
It’s not about the happiness,
It’s about having contentedness.

All of this was about ‘being who you are’…
Without worrying about the scar, you got in the war.

Don’t ever listen to others…

They will never let you believe,
The things you badly want to achieve.

Never ever quench the fire inside of you…
Because that will always make you stand out of the queue.

.

P.S. Out of all the poetry penned down by me up until now… This one is the closest to my heart.

🇮🇳
Jai Hind.