Excerpt 1 : Manizer

Hold your horses. Here she comes. Vanessa the Manizer.

[This is the story of Vanessa. She is an inspiration and amalgamation of various women I have known. She is you. She is me. She is real. She is bold. She is sorted. She is confused. A paradox of nature. A Manizer made by situations but turned philosopher by one man.]

Manizer? That’s not even a term.Really? So what? If there can be womanizers then there can be a term called Manizer too. There is Seductress, Temptress, Femme Fatale etc. but why isn’t Manizer part of the posse? That is what me and my friends called me MANIZER.

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Not much of a story behind it. I had been through a volley of relationships and ended up dumping them. I was rated a Slut, a Hoe and a lot many other words because of that. Was my story ever heard? Naah! Not really! Not that I cared anymore (there used to be a time when I did). Time made me realize ignorance was certainly bliss.

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Yeah, so what if I wasn’t into serious commitments? I made sure men knew that before they started dating me and no, this wasn’t because I was a bitch. I had already tried giving love a chance THRICE and they all turned out to be infidels so anything serious now scared the wits out of me.

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A Hoe, A slut, whatever people might call me. I never seduced or tempted men but my tiniest advances got them hooked, they lusted after me (I had that charm and I was definitely NOT thankful for that). Also, I did not rebuff any flirtatious advances but I refused to risk falling for anyone again. So, you get it why the term Manizer seems more suitable, atleast to me.

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All Rights Reserved. ©Vanya Rajwar (VRa)©

January 2020.

EXISTENCE

Tale of a Strong Woman with a Dead Soul who finds her Existence Pointless

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She wanted to be the girl in his poems,
The one he would never forget.
She wanted to be the girl in his sketches,
The one he would always need,
Just like the air he breathes.
She wanted to be the girl in his dreams,
The one he would fight for,
One he would forever be at the side of.

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Instead she became the girl who wrote odes to her pain,
In trying to become his muse,
She lost her own self.
The girl who pretended to be happy even when sad,
Tried to be strong even when weak,
All this just for him;
Her hollow eyes had no expression,
When she realised she was so replaceable, so easily forgotten.

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Even after all that, Lust driven men chased after her,
Trying to claw at the numb remains of a body, with a shattered soul,
Nobody seemed to care, she had emotions too.

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Left Uncared & Unloved for, people sing praises of her strength,
The girl who became her own muse.
A girl who seems stone cold,
Shrouded in a constant mystery,
One who loved and fought with all her being,
something the ones in her life failed to reciprocate.
A wounded tigress they call her,
But she is just a girl with a dead soul,
One whose tears fail to flow,
One who feels she has no regrets, To the extent that,
She finds her mere Existence pointless.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2019

HUES

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“A Tale of the Contrasting Shades of a Woman”

She was not born a warrior,

She has been forged into one.

She wears her scars proudly.

She belongs to nobody but her freedom,

And she loves the ones she cares for more than her freedom.

She is a free soul.

Her past has strengthened her.

She is forbearing and forgiving.

She is perceptive as well as sensitive.

She is brutal withal ruthless.

She cares the most, expects the least and braces herself for the worst.

She won’t ever quit on you.

She can  heal and mend you but

Beware!!

She has an Angelic Divinity about her that hides the Satan underneath.

She holds the powers of infernal destruction,

Which can convert,

Even shattered smithereens to Ashes and blow them into Oblivion.

So, Don’t compel her to reveal her darker shades.

Love her if she is kind to you,

but Fear her,

if you have forced out the darkness in her.

Her contrasting HUES;

Are an Essence that can make you,

but if pushed too far,

Are Deadly enough to break you.

 

 

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2018

ALPHA

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“The Tale of an Alpha Queen”

Alone she stands, unwavering and tall,

Fierce to the bone and savage to the core.

Different from the rest, she is one of a kind,

She won’t make amends if she is right;

undoubtedly a rare find.

She is well versed in consoling herself,

She has learnt to wipe her own tears,

She has taught herself to be her own support,

She wears new facades everyday,

So don’t mistake yourself, you can’t read her changing personas each day.

She is the ALPHA of her own life.

She has no penchant for your shenanigans and

Anger in her patient self is what irrelevant histrionics ignite.

A lone wolf by sight and a queen by right,

She is the centurion of the arena you are playing at

Believe it when I say you can’t gauge her might.

 

All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2018