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Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

190 followers 130 following 520 posts

She/Her. 31. Melomaniac. Mom. Banker. Writer. Singer. Playlists Maker. Metaphysics Aficionado. HU 🌀
#KJDreamyPoet

Writer acct: @kavyajanani.bsky.social

One stop link for my works: https://linktr.ee/kavya.janani

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Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

9. The Vegetarian by Han Kang

I don't know what to say about this book. It was dark, depressing, and twisted. I can see why it won the Man Booker Prize. It might be because of the serious nature of the book, something didn't quite sit with me.

#BookSky 💙📚

March 16, 2025 at 2:03 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

8. Exploring the World of Lucid Dreaming by Stephen LaBerge

This is gonna be my Bible as I go about cultivating my lucid dreaming skill. I'll be going back to this now and then, even rereading it to grasp the concepts. Highly recommended for those who want to experiment with their dreams.

#BookSky

March 8, 2025 at 5:36 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

7. The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep by Tibetan Yoga Academy

I read this as a supplement to Exploring the World of Lucid Dreaming (which I'd finish in a few days) but it was way too spiritual for me and it's also difficult to follow the practices mentioned here. A passable read!

#BookSky 💙📚

March 5, 2025 at 2:33 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

6. Book Lovers by Emily Henry

DNF. Couldn't even skim through the last 90 pages. But I'm logging it here because I read almost 3/4th of the book. Never reading another Emily Henry book.

#BookSky 💙📚

March 5, 2025 at 1:26 AM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

Meanwhile KJ's Wordle grid looked like this yesterday

March 4, 2025 at 5:30 AM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

Guys...🥹

Credit: @_basakduran_ on IG

February 23, 2025 at 4:23 AM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

TW: grief

#KJDreamyPoet

FOR NEITHER EVER, NOR NEVER, GOODBYE...

(after Apparat)

I don't know what to say anymore.

I have written this poem a million times inside my head, whirling each word, each letter round and round inside my cerebrum, coating it with layers and layers of excruciating ache and grief. Sometimes, I think I should have put pen to paper

when my wound was still fresh.

But the words were scared of me.

They didn't want to come to a woman who was splintering herself

by thinking about how she could have been a saviour.

Do you see it now?

My whole skin is tattooed only with ifs, buts, and whys.

If I could have been there for you...

But you didn't trust me enough...

Why didn't I check up on you?

A thousand different scenarios gnaw and eat through my flesh and bones, making my whole being swim in an ocean of regrets.

What's another one going to do to me than add to the mess?

Sometimes, I console myself that I'm already an abode of devastation. But this devastation would be that nasty stain that wouldn't go away.

I have to live with it, looking hard into it every day.

You see, this poem would be disarrayed, much like how my soul has been since you left without any goodbyes or answers.

All my neural networks have been rejecting the fact

that you are no longer a living, breathing, thriving human being.

That there are no more footprints of you on this Earth.

That you will never get to drink another hot tea on a hot summer's day. Even the songs that we both loved do not know how to help me wade through something as catastrophic as this.

Amidst all this, I want to ask you - What song did you listen to at the last?

Didn't music, the very thing my blood is made up of, and the very thing that carried you through your darkest hours, save you at last? I cannot even hate it because it is the only thing that gives me the warmest hugs whenever I crave them.

You see, I have been served only mango ice cream at three different events.

The flavour you loved the most.

Maybe you are trying to let me know of your presence.

Maybe all the random songs that pop into my mind out of nowhere are sent by you to reassure me that everything is fine with you.

Or maybe this is how I try to make sense of my grief.

There are days when I feel perfectly normal.

Like you are still out there, plotting your next annoying remark as a reply to something I posted online.

And then there are days when I feel that my solar plexus has ruptured, with all the seven stages of grief colliding with each other inside my body.

I'm never going to bid you goodbye as something or the other clangs at my heart with a remembrance of you. I will grow around this, keep flourishing as I always did, and let this pain co-exist peacefully with all my other emotions.

It's funny how time has suddenly become a villain in my life.

Throughout January, I was irritated that the month wasn't moving fast.

I even willed it to go to February soon.

Now, what wouldn't I sacrifice for it to be January 31st once again?

But every morning, my phone flashes a date that's so alien to me.

It will never be January 31st, 2025, again.

We both loved time travel so much.

In the end, I have realized that time is the only thing that cannot be bent.

Time, to you in another plane, is an illusion.

Time, to me in this murky reality, will be a healer.

Time, my arch nemesis, will keep both of us safe.

Kavya Janani. U

February 22, 2025 at 1:34 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

5. The Seven Year Slip by Ashley Poston

Right place, wrong time? This is the first instance of a book finding me at the right time. Please give me more such impossible love stories. With happy endings, of course! Best read of 2025. Marked for future re-read.

#BookSky 📚💙 #Books

And, in turn, that monster didn't let her see all the things she would miss. The birthdays. The anniversaries. The sunsets. The bo-dega on the corner that had turned into that shiplap furniture store. The monster closed her eyes to all the pain she would give the people she left-the terrible weight of missing her and trying not to blame her all in the same breath. And then you started blam-ing yourself. Could you have done something, been that voice that finally broke through? If you loved them more, if you paid more attention, if you were better, if you only asked, if you even knew to ask, if you could just read between the lines and-

If, if, if.

There is no easy way to talk about suicide.

Sometimes the people you love don't leave you with goodbyes-they just leave.

Grief is a weird thing. It can be a monster on your shoulder. It can be a friend sitting with you at the table. It can be a memory in a smell the soft, delicate notes of floral perfume. Grief can find you in the middle of the night as you roll over to go back to sleep. It can even find you in your dreams.

And grief what it looks like, how it whispers, how you respond is different for everyone.

February 20, 2025 at 1:16 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

4. A Soul's Journey by Peter Richelieu

To a grieving person, this book felt like a warm hug. One has to have an open mind and heart to read it. I'm not going to accept or reject anything here until I get to experience it firsthand. Maybe, that's the perk of being a spiritual agnostic.

#BookSky 📚💙

February 19, 2025 at 8:21 AM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

3. The Silent Sister by Diane Chamberlain

I read Diane's 'The Midwife's Confession' in 2023 and since then I have been wanting to read another book by her. Got the chance to read this. I'm mind-blown at how well she has plotted the story. The twists were simply excellent. A page-turner!

#BookSky 📚

February 12, 2025 at 4:40 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

2. Third Girl by Agatha Christie

I loved the fact how the murder doesn't exist for the 3/4th of the book. It exists somewhere out there, but Poirot only gets to it towards the end of the book. It was quite a different Agatha Christie story. Loved how everything tied up in the end.

#BookSky 📚💙

February 12, 2025 at 4:40 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

Back in 2021, I did this small experiment. I took a dark poem of mine and wrote a happier version. It was truly cathartic. Read both the versions below and let me know what you think.

#KJDreamyPoet

IF YOU'RE ARE LOOKING FOR A RAY OF HOPE IN THIS POEM, YOU'LL FIND NONE

Wake up and become a never-resting Ferris wheel, each cabin carrying a responsibility.

Oh, how I wish I could unhinge myself and become a rollercoaster for once.

My bones are haunted houses, thick with emptiness and suppressed energies.

I am always climbing staircases that lead nowhere.

Neither there are landings nor plush carpets to comfort my parched foot.

What am I, if not a rag-doll stuffed with suffering?

I am already a succulent abode of ache that I cannot be overwatered with more tribulations.

On most days, I am a lump of sand stuck to the top of an hourglass, dribbling, dribbling, dribbling, to become a mound of disappointment to myself.

I sashay through time's fickle passage, scratch nostalgia's skin, and juice every object around me, all for a sip of peace, but all I find is my body warming up to this mundane's caress.

I warned you about not finding hope in this poem, so please stay away from this decrepit woman.

Kavya Janani. U

THE SUN BUILDS A HOME IN THIS POEM

Wake up and become a water-fountain, bursting with so much energy that I can flood the pathway.

I don't want to still. I don't want to become a sleeping river. I am my own honey.

My bones are mansions, thick with the celebration of self-love, my name a decree chanted by the flowers. I am always climbing staircases that lead me to the sun. The steps are mottled with gold carpets to soothe my tired feet.

What am I, if not a daffodil in human form?

I am succulent with bliss and hence I let sorrow moonwalk off my heart.

On most days, I am a sea of starlight, glowing, glowing, glowing, to become a breath of bright blue.

I waltz to the tune of my heart (I am enough, I am enough), burn the embers of my past, kiss my heartbreaks a goodbye, and find myself sleeping on a bed of sunflowers.

I am now a poem, encapsulating so much hope. So, come closer to this yellow soul.

Kavya Janani. U

January 24, 2025 at 5:14 PM

Kavya Janani 🌻🌌🎶

@teainnumvarala.bsky.social

#Books2025 🧵

1. The Good Husband of Zebra Drive by Alexander McCall Smith

This series is my prescription. The books are my medicines. I need 3-4 doses a year to keep me sane. Ordered the next 4 books so that I can squeeze in 2 or 3 more this year.

#BookSky 📚💙 #Books