Melanie Pariat

22688666_1585353181487279_6480332541709182187_n Photography: Mewan Mylliemngap

“Single” Hit “like”, scroll,

“Skinny in or skinny out?” Hit “wow”, scroll,

“Divorced”- “dislike”, scroll,

“The right body shape” Too fat? “You’re right!”- now scroll…



Look at us, getting everybody’s approval. It’s an illusion, this media we call “social”. Look up and see, it’s a world of confusion. It’s a device of delusion to promote social seclusion.

Interaction- but we’ve forgotten to co-exist

Companionship- “comment” and he’ll appreciate but every relationship ends up like the series from “Catfish.”

Emotions- pretend to spread love through “Blessings in an hour- so, Like/ Share/ React- to show your followers”

We’ve changed the way we interact, we’ve changed the way we see how our grandparents socialise was never behind a screen.

We’ve learned to live like robots and taught our children too, we buy them gadgets over skipping ropes for our next status to boom- “Our tech savvy…

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You should know.

Hear me you with a heart, 
Broad daylight has never felt any safer for me.
As I walk the street shuddering at the thought of his face.
Shrivelled hair that seem to have lost their way all bundled up as thick strands covering most part of his eyes.
His eyes, through the strands, bloodshot with veins that seem to breakthrough the whites.
He kept cringing his nose forming a smirk with golden and black teeth peeping at me.
His dirty tattered clothes smelt of dried urine with a thick air of alcohol.
The grime underneath those nails seem so have found their permanent dwelling.

He saw the fear in my eyes mixed with flashes of frail rebellion.
I sensed emptiness around me, no brother or friend to hear my cries.
No sooner, I found my cries drowning under his large rough hand as he dragged my struggling body towards an old damp construction site.
Forced himself upon me while he rips of his shirt and unfasten his drenched pants.
I didn’t care about my mud soaked clothes and burns from wounds of struggle, but I violently shook him off with screeching screams to bleed his dirty ears!

The next thing he did was muffle my screams which only echoed within the walls of my mouth against his body.
The foul smell was strongest then as he put his weight on my neck close to my mouth.
I struggled to breathe but all I could think of was my desire to just die!
He held my mouth till my teeth caused the insides of my cheeks to bleed.
I tasted the salt of my blood and his organ gagging me to suffocation!
Was I crying blood? My struggling limbs started to get weaker waddling to complete surrender.

It wasn’t over. Seeing my ceased motions, His scaly hands was rough on my skin.
I can still hear his heavy grunts down every corner finishing off a dying innocent child.
His final touch, a wire strangulating my confessions so he could roam free.
Free to monstrously suck another innocent soul again.
My final vision saw a white light bespattered with blotches of blood. My blood and the blood of millions marking each inhumane monster!

Broad daylight reflected my guise that day-my khasi attire, full clothed to my wrists and ankles.
Yet you Blockheads reprove me of sexual invitation?
What? My bare face, bare hands, bare feet called out to your lust?
Wait, what? You were provoked?
Were you?
We’re you really?
Or was it your savagery barbaric hard up that stabbed me to death?

You sigh, “Thank God I didn’t kill her”?
Yet you are the lowest form of human!
“But at least I didn’t take her life.”
Oh you took her life. Corrupted it in the most undefiled manner any animal wouldn’t even have thought of doing so.
She was a bud but you took her vision of a blossoming world.
Your touch so toxic it deteriorated her tender petals.
She told me, she’d rather you took her life.

I won’t project images of your mother, your sister or your daughter.
Breathing the same shuddering air we breathe.
Your horny lusty soul wouldn’t care less about blood ties even if she dies.
We all have our demons, but they’re ours to tame.
Set them free and you’re to blame.
As for my life and hers, they’ll never be the same.

Spirits of Emotions 

I watch her sit there, on the park bench, with a journal on her lap, pen between her forefinger and the other. 

Girl in a white sprawled out dress with patches of black little flowers on it, tilting her head to gaze at the arch of the blue sky. Watching the trees sway and rustle to the wind. 

Appearing like she’s marvelling at it’s vast glory but her eyes reflect a deep seated mind which sees beyond the surface. 

Her mind, which consciously holds Spirits of Emotions she’s felt down memory lane. They take joyrides gallivanting in circles restlessly. Intermittently conversing with her conscience more than she conversed with the people around her. 

These Spirits of Emotions express themselves greatly coupled with inflictions pricking her tender heart for attention. 

Fear seeped in along with anxiety, withheld her charm, determined to crush her faith and spirit. 

Anger she tries to restrain, it fills her with a tormented heart. 

Love pierced her deep with maddening passion she’s never felt before, stirring her sanity. 

Sadness engulfed with pangs of agony and despair squeezing tears from her eyes leaving her hollow inside. 

Joy however, sends streams of euphoria radiating through her eyes when she smiles. 

I watch her hold them inside. She struggles to tame each one, making steady progress. I watch and wonder her unfathomable mind that never rests. 

Get it off your Hair. 

Haha. I know this is kind of a sudden shift from all my other articles but my Cousin had asked me yesterday about how I kept my hair beautiful. So basically this article is going to be just about that.

 Believe it or not, I don’t do much for my hair.  

I did much (past tense). 

But let me let you in on my secrets. First and most important of all is, I don’t believe in the ‘actual’ beauty of hair colour. I’m emphasizing on the word actual here because yes, I love to see people with beautifully coloured hair but I’m more a fan of highlights. Especially girls with long ombre waves. Gawd! I envy them. However does it feel as good as it looks? I don’t know about that because I, for myself, am too afraid to try it for fear of split ends! Yes I hate spilt ends. I mean, who doesn’t?? But I doubt that it’ll feel as good as it looks and moreover even if it does feel all smooth and pretty on day one when you just got out of the parlour, maybe on day two too but what about days after??

Anyway, back to my hair. I don’t even apply henna on it. But henna is not as bad as colour. I’ve seen a couple of my roommates try it and they tell me they actually feel the difference. They say it makes their hair feel soft and luscious but they also say that it does not stay that good for long so they would always have to apply it again after two weeks. 

Last year I highlighted my hair a little. I was pretty nervous about it so I tried the color burgundy on a small lock of hair right under my ear down to the tips. I know, I applied it in such a hidden part of my hair but I did that intentionally because I do not trust colour. I applied the colour to my black hair without bleaching it first. My friends say bleach damages your hair but you have to bleach it first for the colour to set in and be visible enough. I however, applied the colour directly without bleaching but left it overnight wrapped up in foil paper, carefully making sure it does not stain my pillow and just slept on it. Besides it was just a a small lock of hair. No big deal. Next day,  I washed it off and Voila!!! Visible to anybody who would face me close. Then I happily showed it off until six months later, that lock of hair became bad. Bad as in, it became blondish with a lot of split ends branching out like crazy! I wanted to chop it off but since I highlighted it right from the roots so it was not possible because 90% of my hair was still lusciously sleek when compared to the 10% split-blonde. So I just left it. Have to live with it because afterall, it was my mistake anyway. 

Okay now rewind ⏪⏪ Back to the days when I had super short hair that I almost looked like a boy if it wasn’t for my gold khasi earrings. After I had attained the age of five, I spent eights years of my childhood grumbling whenever my mother drags me to my aunt to have my haircut. My aunt always my hair since childhood till date. Believe it or not, I’ve never been to a parlour for a haircut till date! She has magic in her hands. I don’t know. Maybe. 🤔 

I started leaving my hair long, up until I was 16 years old. And I couldn’t thank my mother for all all those short hair years. Despite the grumpy attitude I had about my boyish haircuts, they paid off and gave me thick, straight, lusciously sleek and silky hair now. 

You’d be surprised if I tell you that I oil my hair only once a month but I apply serum once in a while when I happen see it lying around after bath. I use any serum because they all basically feel the same to me. 

What else? I don’t brush it often because it’s tiringly long. But wait! I don’t recommend leaving your hair unbrushed. If there’s even a word. However, to get good hair you need to ‘comb’ through it like 3/4 times a day. But wait again! I don’t recommend it for thin hair. For thin hair though, once in the morning and once before bed is more than enough. That’s what I did when my hair started to grow at the age of sixteen. Obviously I was too happy that my mother let me grow it so I used to spend hours before the mirror combing my hair like that sick lady from that horror movie with the black well, what was it??      

Yeah. That one.     

I wanted long hair so badly because I was sick of playing the boy in the short dramas we had in the Boarding school for our bossy seniors and for farewell occasions. So I used to comb comb comb right from the scalp but gently, not bleeding the scalp for four or five times daily! 

 For shampoo, I always use Sunsilk shampoo since the very first time I started growing my hair except when there’s no shampoo around and I don’t have a choice. You might ask me “Which sunsilk? Colour?” I say, “Any! As long as it was Sunsilk” but I prefer the black, green or yellow. I’m using the green right now and it gives me soft and light hair. I love it! Thanks Sunsilk, you’re doing an awesome job! 

P.S. I don’t use conditioner because I use serum after. 

Next, its all about your diet. I have been forced to eat leafy greens since childhood under a strict mother with a stick always next to her, so I don’t fuss about it today. I eat mostly boiled foods almost everyday and save fried meals twice a week on special Saturdays and Sundays. I found that this diet I’ve been holding really helps the growth of my hair. The leafy greens give my hair a healthy black shiny look and the boiled foods does not give me a greasy scalp with thick flaky dandruff.

Before I bathe, I always brush my hair to let go of all the tangles and also because I feel that my shampoo can seep in further to the middle part of my hair hence cleaning it better. I use mild luke warm water for my hair and I always wash it with my head bent down (If that’s a tip too. LoL). After my bath, I don’t usually blow dry my hair. I blow dry it only when I’m in a hurry for something important. Otherwise I let it dry naturally under the sun for about ten minutes then I apply serum and comb off the tangles when it’s still slightly damp. The rest, I let nature do it’s part. 🙂

Basically that’s all. 

Oh and I use hair irons to curl or straighten my hair but not all the time! I suggest hair irons only on important occasions which for me happens only three or four times a year (sad, I know but not so sad since I’m introverted) because the heat they give out, damages your hair really slowly but permanently. 

Above all, I just want you to know that your hair no matter what shape, texture, length or colour is beautiful the way it is. You are beautiful the way you are! Don‘t let society or even your friends make you feel any less beautiful that you already are. Okay?? And one thing I suggest is, take care but don’t care too much to the point of Worry about anything, be it your hair or your face or your body. Have patience and look at that beautiful person in the mirror. The most originally unique one of all. God gifted with the Biggest and kindest Heart. Your beautiful heart is the only thing that matters. The only thing that attracts genuine people into your life. People who will love you no matter the hair, face or body. 

I think that’s all for now. If you have any questions feel free to comment below and I’ll try to answer them. 🙂

Phew. That was long.  Thank you for reading. Do follow me in this wordpress account or my instagram or facebook page named “Silence On Paper” for more articles. I can’t specify what kind but I’m full of surprises. 😉 Stay tuned. 

Have a blessed day! 


I used to be carefree. I spoke my mind and plain truth. 

I never cared what you thought about my words as long as I know I’m being honest to your questions. 

But all the time you keep doubting me.

Your skepticism makes me stumble upon my own words. 

You twist and turn my words to fit the assumptions in your head. You and Your thoughts should always be right. 

Contrive too much to the point that my Truths when compared to everything you say surprisingly always sound like lies. 

Sometimes I give in to your asumptions and let you think that I’m disloyal. I let myself believe that I’m disloyal. I let myself believe that I’m the ‘Tramp’ you have an image of in your head. 

I let myself believe I’m no good. 

Nowadays I always feel like I’m forever holding on to the edge with everything I do. 

What if I say the wrong thing? 

(Stop right there girl) I should choose my words carefully. 

What if I choose my words carefully? 

(Stop again) I might utter a misstatement which for you, becomes one huge lie you can base on to claim everything I say, is a lie. 

You’d doubt the whole picture. I’m bounded. 

I become someone so careful of everything I do that I don’t let anything come naturally out of me. 

What If I give in to ‘whatever’ or ‘whoever’ you might think of me? 

Based on the questions you inquire me I sense that you think I’m

A dishonest girl.

A girl capable of doing unthinkable things behind your back. 

A girl who sleeps around.

A girl who has millions of partners.

And many that my own mind can’t even imagine because I AM NOT WHAT YOU THINK I AM. 

For once in my life I gave you everything. 

Is it because I  g a v e  you everything?

My  L o v e  for you made you think that horribly of me? 


I  g a v e  you everything of me. Now I’m empty. And I need to fill myself with something. Anything!

The only thing you’re offering me is your 

 H o r r i b l e  perception of me. 

So now I fill me with Your Perception of Me. 

At this moment, I stand before the mirror,

And I don’t like Me. 

But all for you, would do.

I hope you, however, You still like me. 
Afterall, what you see now is a reflection of your own mind. And the real me? Well, now she’s hard to find. 

Do you feel me?

Do you take in gulps of pain it fills you?

Do you swallow your tears you can taste it?
Do you keep quiet to that voice inside telling you to speak up? 
Do you stay humbly patient and found it to be so arduous?
Do you bow your head down to the blows?
Do you pretend like you’re doing great when you’re not?
Do you cry down in your throat to put a smile up in your lips?
Do you admire the sky to keep your uncontrolled tears from rolling down your cheek?
Do you? 

Have you ever had to?

You are no meek-soul.

You are Bold, Strong, Beautiful, Headstrong and Defiant.

You are no Dove.

You are a dauntless Phoenix.
Do you feel me?


​For a woman who’s so in love with words, being with a man who does not share the same passion simply means her acceptance of who he is; her unfathomable love for him no matter the differences, no matter the entire vocabulary!

She revels in those differences deeply and sees a variety of colours she’s never seen before. Colours only a deep-rooted eye would see. Not just see, but know each of their hidden meanings.

 Analysing his nature as colourful as nature itself. Comprehending his beautiful kind soul. 


And when you understand them all, you have to look back at his face and see those beautiful colours you saw deep down within him. And you’ll see more than his bare countenance. You’ll see the most radiantly beautiful rainbow you’d never get tired of looking. And that’s how you learn to see more than what meets the eye. 

That’s how I see you.

Your Child.

You led me to waters so deep, told me it was only faith that I need.

Taught me through parables which weren’t easy to read.

I ask you to comprehend; you do so without being hesitant.

Jesus you truly are my friend.

Broken pieces of my life, you fix,

Forgiving sinners and healing the sick

The most dreadful sinner like me you pick.

To be your faithful servant to the end,

To help the lost and broken souls to mend.

No angel but us you send.

You trust me so much that you choose me,

Although a great sinner I may be

To help you save sinners, because you promise to always be right beside me.

I am but weak in Spirit,

Altogether my flesh too isn’t so fit.

Yet you ask me to trust in you, promising you are there every second, every minute.

Jesus make use of me in every way

Just as you died on the cross, our sins to pay

To show your imperfect sinners that you always care.

Shine a light into our dark hearts

Before we completely fall apart.

August 15, 2015.

My day started off in such a rush. I rushed my way to college at 6am since we had to go to college for a programme in Elaka, Pynursla (east khasi hills, Meghalaya).

It was a long 3 hour journey full of laughter and discern jokes. I felt like I was missing something but I couldn’t figure it out. I was too tired to think so I just “went with the flow”. 

On reaching Pynursla, things were worse. We had to walk all the way to the main cultural programme since the buses couldn’t take us further more. There were no roads inside the main village settlement.

Our day went on wasted on nothing really. 

It wasn’t until dusk that I had to return home. I have a friend who would take me home. It was late and I knew very well how worried my parents and my warden would be. 
We couldn’t wait for the programme to be over so we left. There were six of us.

“You guys sit behind, alright?” my friend said to his friends since they were all boys and I was the only girl there.

However one of his friend sat in the front seat with him anyway.

I didn’t mind. 

The journey way back home was a really bumpy one indeed. There were a lot of twists and turns and I think because of the fact that we were already late made my friend drive a lot faster too.

On our way there we talked about all the accident possibilities and ghost encounters probabilities that was really disturbing since it was believed that that particular place still held on to their superstitious beliefs. 

Foreshadowing our conversations, all of a sudden the car bumped into something we don’t know and my Friend’s  friend, Jack  who was sitting in the front seat was thrust forward by the force. My friend also bumped his head against the glass while the rest of us behind bumped into each other. 

Five seconds of silence captured the moment. The first thing I could do was look at my friend. He had tears in his eyes. I was out of words. Jack’s side of the glass was shattered! 

“Is everyone alright?” my friend asked. 

“Yes yes.” We all replied groaning 

“Is anybody hurt?” my friend asked hopeful that no one was.

Nobody was hurt. That was the most surprising moment. My friend  who drove and Jack were neither hurt no matter how badly it all happened.

It was raining really heavily but we all got out to check the car. The bumper came off, headlights still works though. We were all drenched wet as we waited for another car to help us. Our teacher noticed us and helped us push the car to the side. He said he would get us help as soon as possible while we remained where we were. We all agreed and got back inside the car. 

There was that moment where panic took over us while we tried to explain whatever we could to our parents or friends using the low network and battery we had. My mother called several times as I tried to explain to her the occurrences. I couldn’t.

We all sat put inside trying to calm each other until the buses arrived where we all got in and reached our respective homes safely.
I couldn’t understand how we were all saved unwounded after such an accident!

It was all God’s grace. He still had mercy on all of us. He still loves us. He saved us from the Devil’s pitch in the last minute because he is our merciful God. 

As I sat down to think, he answered me.

And he said to them, “What man is there among you who has one sheep, and it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not lay hold of it and lift it out?”

“Of how much more value then is a man than a sheep?”

                                                                              Matthew 12:11-12

We fell into a pit yet he saved us with his blood. Jesus we love you. Word cannot describe how grateful we are to you for giving us one more chance to live again. To live according to your word. 

You showed us that “this isn’t the end, there’s a chance to start again”

From this experience what I have learnt is that even though I have been neglecting His Grace, he still looks after me because I am his child. And he’s my one and only merciful Father. I have recently been neglecting him not only on week days but Sundays too. I never gave him attention for even a second! Yet he’s never left my side any day, any hour, any minute, any second! 

Our God is really Great! Thank you Lord.

Pieces (Part 1)

I haven’t really figured out whether everyone has someone to look up to or not but a majority do. The exceptions can be in the case when one is already at his best that he does not really need outside influences to determine his best behaviour. Regardless of the exception, I believe that we all sprout ourselves- be it our differences; character; belief; ideals; attitude and much more I’m being limited to add. Each of our inspirations comes from various sources. Most of which comes from leaders we look up to, some our very own close relatives, some from friends just around the corner, several from their teachers. Although there are rare cases where inspiration comes from Faith.


He is a teacher, a saviour, a friend for most who would agree with me. However to me, he’s my “all-in-one”.  

There was a time when my life felt like broken pieces of a mirror only to be further broken into minute pieces by a trample. I couldn’t blame anybody for it because I knew it was my very own fault. I was the sole responsibility to those broken pieces. 

Frustration and anger took over whereby it led me to push the pieces with my bare hands unknowingly wounding myself more. They were all scattered now. That was when I came to a realisation that I shouldn’t have let anger scatter my broken pieces in desperation for a healing. I would only be burdening my load of looking for each scattered piece from every corner to fix. 

Next day, I tried to look for the little mirror pieces in corners but the more difficult it was to look for them, the more frustrated I became. All I wanted to do was give up, sit right there and watch the pieces hoping time will heal.