Locked up inside her head,
Thinking herself dead–
Pining for things left unsaid;
Torn pieces of might-have-beens,
Piling up on her empty bed.
It’s too convenient to end it
And make them all believe
That she didn’t make it;
It’s too easy to simply sleep
And drown in the lunacy
That holds her, forever adrift–
And yet, another voice demands
That she doesn’t leap.



She stands with trembling knees
And covers her head with her hand;
Her skin appears too translucent
And her make-up bleeds in the heat.
A weather-beaten maiden;
Just another common, nameless face.
A few minutes more, it seems,
And you’ll see her blown by the breeze.
Yet, what no one realizes
Is that her feet are firmly planted
On the slippery ground–
And that her heart’s fully set
On getting what she truly seeks.


Confession 6: “Introducing Myself”

(c) Pinterest Photo.
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Dear Diwa,
Here is a short essay on me.

Me? Umm I am an immature soul with a heart large enough to accommodate all those people who have made me smile in this long run of life. People say I am very childish. Yes, I am. Also one thing they have always told me “Speakkk louddlyy” . I am silent in the midst of a lot of people and I talk softly, hence 99% of everyone has a problem on hearing my voice. When I get angry, I try to release my heat off my heart, so sometimes people have been hurted by my words. I am grateful for the ones who have loved me, valued my words, made me feel special. I like loyalties, friends and relationships. I like dreaming, because I feel it is a place where you can feel everything you want to feel, go everywhere you want to go and meet all the people you want to meet. And you know, I love writing, getting all the emotions off my heart, also I am a great lover of Java, “The programming language”.

©Name Witheld


Confession 4: “His Mistress”

(c) Pinterest Photo.
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Dear Diwa,

My story is kind of controversial. Despite the fact that we are fast-becoming modernized in everything, society still adheres to a lot of the old ways. I am like most women. I just wanted someone to love me.

He was someone who seemed to be so interesting. We became fast friends until he proposed to be my boyfriend. He was cute, kind, and way older than me. I wanted to feel how it was like to be with someone, so I said yes.

We were fine for a week. And then, suddenly, we weren’t. He wasn’t replying to any of my messages. I texted him non-stop until, finally, he contacted me and informed me that he was breaking up with me.

I cried, non-stop. I was young. He was my first real love and he dumped me because his former girlfriend came back. He chose her over me.

In spite of what happened, we eventually crossed paths again. We belonged to the same circle of friends. It was inevitable that we’d see each other again. I agreed to be friends with him. He was fine, at first. Then, he proposed something else. He wanted me to be his second girlfriend, even when he already was back with his former girlfriend.

I said no, of course. Day after day, he kept asking and begging me to reconsider. I kept saying no. Then, I disappeared from his life. I needed to keep my distance because he didn’t want to choose me over her, but he kept wanting more from me, too.

I never dreamed of being second best. I grew up being taught that a proper lady never made herself cheap to any guy. A decent lady has dignity, poise, and class. So, I decided to stay away.

A year passed. Two years passed. Then, we crossed paths again. He asked about me and I asked about him. That time, I was already working. He wanted to start another relationship with me. However, there was one big problem. He was already married.

He said he tried to look for me. He asked all our friends about my location and my contact details, yet all my friends opted not to tell him. So, he decided to marry his then-girlfriend, the girl he left me for.

You may think me a fool. You could even call me stupid because I said yes to him that time. He wanted me to be his girl and I realized that I was still in love with him. Yes, he was married but love can be such an idiotic thing, most times.

We are still together now and yes, he is still married. I don’t know what will happen in the end. He tells me he plans to leave his wife for me. He says he loves me. He says he doesn’t love his wife anymore. I don’t really know now what to believe.

I know that I am living in sin. I am a kept woman. I am his mistress. But, I love him and I don’t know if I can be without him.

This is my story. This is the result of following my heart instead of my brain–or not balancing them both to make such a crucial decision.

©Name Witheld


Confession 3: “But, I Love You”

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Dear Diwa,
Here is my confession (for him).

So I wanted to confess that,
It has been 16 months we have been in a relationship. Yes, I believe you love me. So do you. There was a time, not one time rather many times. When you seemed too desperate for satisfying your desires. You gave me foolish rules, restrictions, which I shall never forget. I still remember the day when I wanted your support, but you without doing that barged on me conditioning me to stop my social networking sites to gain your support. I thought you were cheap, you used me. Still I loved you through everything. Sometimes I wanted to just go away, but I couldn’t, since you were so important. Mostly, you hurted me that day when you complained about my figure, saying I was fat and ugly and not at all beautiful. At all times you have blamed me because I was not perfect like you, not a topper. Because you know? Everyone doesn’t have those “science” brains. I have for writing which you don’t have.

©Name Witheld



Written by Aafreen Mohiuddin Juwaley.
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She is a phenomenal woman by gender,
Society stands in her way to hinder
Still she fights and comes out an achiever
But even as strongest creation of God
She finds herself always in danger
She gives birth to man, she is also someone’s sister, wife and a daughter Men, the other gender,
Takes her as an object to treat her as his property to eve tease, rape and murder
They prove their weakness by doing so
But She is strong and not weak
She falls thousand times but pushes herself to get back on track and
She is yet again ready to go
A phenomenal woman that she is
Plays different roles of a mother, daughter, sister and wife
You are just incomplete men,
Without a loving woman in your life
She can be like Goddesses Laxmi, Saraswati but
When it is a limit to bear,
She can be like Goddesses Durga and Kali
So don’t you dare, All I want is
Treat woman with lots of love and care




Excerpt from Meeya (Book One), now available at
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It’s a tiring thing, this is;
The journey towards something—
Something far greater
Than little me.

Is it just me?
Or, does it encompass all
Of humanity?
Or, maybe, I’ll stop a bit, I think.

Not really to abandon the dream;
Never to say I’m quitting—
No, never that;
But only to tarry, mildly.

For, rest is for the weary, the lonely—
The ones, like me;
The princess, turned warrior—
The vagabond, actually.

Ever the wanderer—
No place to call my home, finally;
Tried my best to find some solace–
Anything, for me.

Maybe, that’s just me?
Perchance, this is all
Just theatrical seasoning;
Or, perhaps, the lucid mutterings
Of a soul that’s lost and free.