Three a.m.She sat on that lonely couch,on that lonely balcony that lonely night.The crickets chirped the minutes away,reverberating her sadness with every second.They sang with ease.Ease and grandeur.Both these things she barely knew or understood at that moment.She held onto her  glass of wine like a crucifix.Like it could save her.Like the content therein was her way to redemption,maybe make her see that blinding dazzling light that changed Saul to Paul.Maybe just a flicker of it.She held it with firm resolute but inside she was breaking apart.Nothing held ground inside,everything was dizzy,wobbly,shaky.The rage inside boiled even more.No,that was not rage.Rage is violent but what she felt in there gnawed.It lingered and firmly pressed on every inch of her already shrunk heart so that she felt like it would burst.Or shatter into a million smithereens.One of those.

Baby mamma was not a term she could embrace as easily as her earlier defensive motherly instincts had implied.Her baby needed her,her father having vanished into thin air.Inside the hotel room,strides from that lonely balcony,her lecturer needed her too. For one last round he said.He had been saying that all night.She did not have much choice.

As he took that warm bath,she drunk herself cold .She took a gulp, swallowed hard,a tear dropped.She picked a pen and wrote:

I have lost it all, lost it all to the devil

Eyes blinded, I didn’t see the fall

I fell hard, plunged below my level

Just one time, yet forever the scars will live to tell

One time I took a leap , but lost my grip

One time I let loose, I slipped


Hurt, my lonely heart.

Now these walls know me no more

Oh! these broken broken walls

They were to barricade, they let in the hurricane


They gave me word they would hold still

But they gave way, gave me away

Now  they talk

Oh, they glory in my awry-gone days

They mock, they jest, they nibble on what’s left of me

Once family, now worst-sworn enemies?

Oh! These broken, broken walls

Once I reigned, I was queen

Crown on head, world at my feet

Now I am drained, by that man inside

His sexual desires very wildly untamed

 Maybe that A grade will save my face, make me  a name

So for now I will drown in this red wine

Drown, drown and drown

In case I resurface, just in case I do

Tell the devil not to judge me

 I am just giving him his due.



  1. Wait, I think I get your point. This happens. I have heard cases just like this. Is it just for the grades? Is it for “fame” or the “Oh Yes!”? I fail to understand. If a single grade can make one defame her conscience, how does one learn to live with it. Well, maybe there is somewhat a higher purchase of the same, but is it really worth it? If I was a lady in this situation, I’d better be right, than “bright”. Thanks for the deep connection of thoughts.


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