A Girl Who Reads

Time and time again, I’ve seen this piece circulating on social media and other darker corners of the internet. I’ve also seen it popping up frequently with different author credits. Well, regardless of who’s written it, the fact that this bit of prose is born out of genuine sincerity remains unquestioned.

96334879500521023_bssucv2z_c2A girl who reads always has something special about her. It’s quite hard to put a finger on that something, but yeah, there’s definitely something special there. Here are a couple of lines which were written as an attempt to gather these thoughts and put them in one poetic form. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 🙂

A Girl Who Reads

Beauty is rare, but there’s something rarer to find,
There’s something deeper within, that stokes the mind.
There’s a girl who has that something, something that cannot be defined,
She’s the girl who reads, and she is one of a kind.

Date a girl who reads, cause like a diamond she shines,
Date a girl who reads, she’s innocent and naughty at the same time,
Date a girl who reads, cause she has strong opinions and thoughts,
from the one’s who won’t read and the one’s who do not.

Like a girl who reads, she accepts and understands change,
Like a girl who reads, she’s open to things, normal and strange,
Like a girl who reads, she has a kind heart and a considerate mind,
Her words are deep, and her thoughts are like sunshine.

Love a girl who reads, cuz she simply understands,
Love a girl who reads, just like the sun loves the sand.
Love a girl who reads, cuz she’s leagues and fathoms apart,
from the one’s who won’t read and the one’s who do not.

She’ll paint your life with colour, she’ll fill your world with light,
She’ll sparkle with enthusiasm, even in the darkest of nights,
She’s the girl who reads, and she’ll make a mark on your mind,
She’s the girl who reads, and she is one of a kind.


The Next Village

It was a cold and moonless night. A light breeze carried the cold straight to your bones. I was on my way home from the district market, where I had managed to make a small fortune in exchange for my skills in pottery. Darkness had swallowed me and a longing to see my family again clawed at me. Being alone on a forest trail in the dead of night isn’t the best situation to be in, but as fate would have it, I chose to walk home that night. Darkness often gives us a feeling that we’re being followed. But it was not just a feeling this night. I heard them, the heavy shuffling footsteps, and whipped around, praying. It was an old lady; withered and ancient. She reached out to me; a sign to wait for her. “Will you accompany me to the next village, son?” A part of me wanted to refuse, partly in fear of consequences that might pursue, but turning my back on her wasn’t the best choice either. I agreed and we strode together, side by side.

She was amazingly fast for someone her age, strong even. My mind was a plethora of entangled thoughts, some of which were desperate courses of action and fear of what would happen next. A couple of things caught my eye; her bushy white eyebrows, her red sari which was torn in places, black bands on her ankles and wrists, abnormally large grey eyes and the fact that she walked bare feet. “I’ll be taking the left ahead. I have to visit someone in the neighboring village first.” I blurted out, overwhelmed by fear. She turned slowly and looked at me without a word, her large grey eyes penetrating me. I felt a shudder. Then she nodded and the silence resumed.

Continue reading