A letter from Online Class

Dear students,

I don’t have the energy to write a whole introduction about this letter. You have already exhausted me and all the other apps I use. So, let me just get to the point. I don’t have anyone to complain to, teachers can complain to parents, parents to teachers, ya all to your friends and vice versa but I can’t. All of those stated above will blame me instead. So, here’s where I am gonna blow out the steam.

The main topic us that: YOU DON’T TAKE ME SERIOUSLY!

I know writing that in bold and caps didn’t help ’cause well you don’t take me seriously anyways but I had to try. So, under that main topoc we have a few subtopics. Read them with care:


If I am to start at 10:00 am most of you wake up at 9:59 am. The steps that follow are: Logging in, Giving attendance, Going back to sleep with a static picture on. Some of you are even more foolproof. The steps for them are: Logging in, Giving attendance, Putting on a static picture, Changing display name to “Reconnecting….”, Going back to sleep. This ensures that the teacher thinks that your net is slow.


You all now have a few trusted excuses of being late or not answering. They are: Slow Net, No Internet, Power Cut In The Area, Teacher’s Voice Breaking, Unable to login, Camera Malfunctioning, Cannot hear you teacher, Mic Is Not Working and a plethora of other such excuses.


Ya’ll probably know what I am talking about, don’t ya? When the teacher asks a question the first option is the book . If that’s not available at the moment then option 2 is Google and if that has no answer then you either leave the meeting due to “net issues” or you say that the teacher’s voice is breaking.


How many of you actually have only one tab open when I am going on?! Almost none of you. Either reading blogs, playing games or chatting.

There are many other complains I have but that will make the letter too long. If you really want to read a part 2 let me know.

Your Idea Of A Joke,

Frustrated Annoyed Online Class.

Sent From: Techie Land made by Coronavirus.

The First Step

Everyday, I look at myself in the glass.The torn girl. Hiding her scars Sitting around without a purpose. Cluttering her mind with questions. It felt like a never ending journey. I wanted to explore. Myself. Yet I could never take the first step. I didn’t know what it was, where it was or how do I do it. I just wanted to want. Wanted to want to do something. Just shake myself and rise. It was still impossible.

Drained of ideas. Searching for myself. Trying to discover. That’s when I looked into the mirror again. And at my reflection, not past it. It all clicked. All the girl in the mirror wanted was her own love.

I have taken my first step. Have you?


The memory again hits my mind

As the frightening lullaby plays in rewind

The darkness again closes around me

What happened that night? How could it be?

A midnight stroll beneath the stars

The moonlit night devoid of scars

I gazed into the oblivion just to see

The sight that’ll never set me free

She lay in a pool of blood, on the ground

The Whistler standing above her, frowned

Stabbed her again, played out his tune

And whistled a very haunting croon

The fear, the terror developed around me

Couldn’t tell anyone except me

As I lie in my bed, 2 years later

The knife in my mind, his needs does cater

The memory again hits my mind

As the frightening lullaby plays in rewind

Never Enough

She's never enough 
Always has to compete
Just to be kicked
Back on the street

She's never enough
Always not good
Her soul spiralling
Hiding under a hood

She's never enough
Always a second pick
The thoughts that make
Her heart and mind sick

She's never enough
And so her soul hides
And I awaken
The demons arise

Mistaken Fairytales

When I was a kid

They told me fairy tales

With handsome princes

And princesses with ponytails

The princes were said to be strong

Formidable and good looking too

They were also intelligent

And every good quality you could brew

The princesses were not this special

They were just beautiful

With evil parents

And injustice plentiful 

The princesses would always wait

Locked in towers or with dragons

The princes would come and fight

Rescue them, take them home in wagons

As a kid I loved it

The palace, horses and lakes

But growing up I realised

There was this big mistake

Why were the princesses,

Just mere objects of beauty?

While the princes were fortunate

And also considered mighty?

Why weren’t the princesses,

Also strong and wise?

And instead of waiting for their Prince Charming,

Rescue themselves, start their own paradise?

From long before in time

The society has looked down upon women

But actually the truth is

They are are equal to men

When I write my fairytales

They’ll be filled with dragons and goons

But the princes would be locked

And the princesses would rescue them soon

Being Me

It is a known fact
Its a burden being a woman
She has to conceal her pain
As she is a woman

She is a bud, a garden
A legacy of sacrifice
Ethereal and mustical
A chaff hidden in rice

She is a view, a mirror
Our holy Gita
Suppressed and blocked
She is a Draupadi, A Sita

The world of man
Has made her a satire
Lost her in a game of dice sometime
Or made her go through an ordeal of fire

Be it a state of morality
Or one of moral decay
She has to take the blame
She hesitates to voice her thoughts
They extinguish her flame

Why must she feel afraid?
To travel alone
The darkness grows behind her
A shadow crepts around her
Her fists are closed, heartbeat rapid
She worries, scurries and does not talk
Silently, she just walks

But now a voice rings out
Loud and free
I refuse to believe its a burden being me

She has changed,
Stronger and confident
The woman of today, woman of today

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