Aye to my thoughts

Giving up writing is like giving up breathing. And there are times when you don’t want to breathe at all. But you can’t just stop breathing if you want to.. and I can’t stop writing even if that one remote part of me might ever want to. Even if there is no one to read out there (I doubt that though =D)

It’s beautiful. That light in the heart. That tiny bubble of hope that is all yellow…That keeps you company in the loneliest of hours, keeps you going in the darkest of times. I feel that. I feel that tentative glow and I feel the smile coming on to my lips without forcing it for the sake of others. And the genuine laughter so afraid..what if the next moment I do something and this bubble of happiness bursts.. plunging me back into the venom that compels me to shun everyone who dares come closer. I don’t know. Bathed in this light my heart feels like a tiny fluttering sparrow.

But you know what..it’s just the tricks of time. Up and down and down and up.. I have been down for a while.. A little up won’t hurt…

See ya =)

 

I just can’t control my head anymore

I can’t stop it. My mind is on fire. It won’t stop writing, it won’t stop stringing all the word together and making a passage, a story out of every place I step into. Watch a movie, read a book, hum a song, my brain won’t stop. It just won’t stop

If writer’s block was like constipation.. honey I just got diarrhea

And I have this place in my building where I go when I just have no place to turn to and hide and the wind is always warm there.. I went there, played doodle jump on my cell for nearly two hours, and when I fell down after the one big high score and the sun flashed into my eyes, my brain began again. And I nearly lost it

Because.. you know what!! Some thoughts are not supposed to be thought, some feelings are not out there to be felt and there are some things one is not always ready to confess and confront. There are things to just be left aside and buried in both heart and mind but my body is so receptive to energies these days that I made fifty characters in my head and drowned ten of them and strangled another five. Three had a happy ending and rest of the stories are faaar from the finishing point

I gotta flush my brain for a while. I have stopped talking sense altogether

Love

Haibar

 

I can’t title it, man

You have no idea of the happiness in my heart, you have no idea how fragile this part of me is, how it explodes with a little amount of energy in it, how this body is a huge sink for energies. I absorb it all. Anger sadness happiness joy. And sharing all that laughter with my friends and licking that ice cream bar and all sorts of great memories clashing in my brain.. you have no idea of the light I hold within

And I am skipping. Flying with the beautiful winds, racing in the blue college bus. It’s just that true simple smile. It is just that beautiful true company, it is just people helping each other out, that’s what a conversation does to me, that is what having friends brings to me. As for now I can feel a bubble of light pulsating where my heart used to be. I sure lost it to waves ages ago, but the love I hold in that place right now… I need no pumping organ holding that symbolic essence anymore. Give me a true smile, a true gesture, a genuine conversation and true laughter, and I would heal all that ails you.

These small things just make me get up every morning and go out in the crowd. I don’t know if anyone out there considers me as a true deep friend, or whether I hold that special place in the heart or not.. they laugh at my jokes.

And I can live with spreading smiles..

 

Two years !

Now this is cool.

Two years ! It has been two years writing online, two years giving less and less time to my journal, two years since all that stuff that happened in my life that compelled me to just escape and start my life over and again! God ! It has been two years since I sat down and wrote that it was the crappiest thing I ever felt, time flies man, but it seems as if I have been here for forever and ever ey !

I met the most beautiful people here. Ever since I started blogging 8 other friends and acquaintances started doing so and not to mention the people who have kept a secret from me and either they think I don’t know or they are just waaay too insecure.. Sorry =D

Anyways. I am not going to write a big old post here. Nobody wants to know about that. Just thank yer everyone for being there for me. Although a lot of them drifted apart but..hey..change is the only permanent thing in nature. I’m beginning to understand that. So thank you Muki and Billy and Anne and Stance and Alfa and Bubbly and so many people for just being there for me.

I am sorry for everything.

And thanks everyone for reading all that I put here. Most of it is crude and unrefined. Writing is the ONLY thing I know. The only thing I can do without being afraid or being unsure about. I hope this doesn’t stop. I hope, you know, this Purple thing doesn’t get lost in all the yellow =)

I know this post is pathetic.. but well I got fever. Karmic infections, damn yoou

Love, Haibar

 

 

One of those things.. you know

There’s that moment when you feel that thing creeping up at the back of your mind, at the surface of your heart and the tip of your tongue. That urge that beautiful flow of words you know you can write down. You have been staring at blank pages and empty screen for days. Nothing to write nothing to type yet the mind and heart are full with stories and emotions. But it just doesn’t flow. The time ain’t right. The feeling isn’t exact

You sit there, in your empty room, that lone wolf you always were. Talking only in jokes and laughter. Why? Because you don’t know how to talk. And the friends you once had..don’t feel right anymore. The only channel you had was through writing but that is blocked by some strange barrier. Is is too much happiness? Is it too much sadness? Is it that pain in the arm that has been killing you for three days and nearly made you break down in class? Is it because talking suddenly has become the hardest thing in the world..?

So you look at your computer, sighing because the old companion has got old and is getting chipped off in places. An guilty feeling in the heart that it might just be time to let it go. You shut it down, lock you room, go into some other room, try relaxing with a bunch of friends, with that odd feeling that is bugging you deep down.You hang out for a while but then the jokes run out, the energy runs out, it’s too late in the night already and then there’s college tomorrow. You walk back the corridors, up the stairs. Unlock your room and get into bed. Shutting your eyes or opening them does’t matter much, it’s too dark to make out the walls

It’s just, sometimes, everything in the world seems so, far away. Was it you who were walking slowly or were it others who sped off? You know, sometimes it just gets harder to breathe..

 

Relieved is a strange thing to say – you really don’t feel that.

I am sitting on the stairs at my Uncle’s huge place. Feeling the light coming through the glass pane windows. I like it here. The damp smell, the empty house. Mom’s out. Sometimes I wish she didn’t have to do all the chores and I could do it for her but then.. we are two distant yet so close people. I don’t know her heart. She doesn’t know mine

After grandpa’s death last week, house is all silent and sad. Nobody told me about his death until Friday when I came from college back home and asked about him and Mom said..honey he’s dead. He had cancer, that I knew.

I remember when my grand dad died. My dadabu. And how that broke me. Through and through. He was my best pal. My mentor. One person who knew all the answers. He was old school, loved all his grandsons. Never much liked the girls. But I was the one girl in the whole family everyone said he loved. They said we were like friends. And I realized that very late..

So I am still sitting here. I won the interclass creative writing competition a week ago. And now I found out I came 2nd in the intercollege competition too. Kind of feels strange. I used to be the type that would spread happiness to the ends of the world once it came to me. I lost my cell. And then maybe nobody really needs to know.

It’s just, we all have thoughts and dreams and ideas. People and friends and foes. And sometimes it’s confusing. What to like what to love. What to hold on and What to hold tight. Turn your back on whom and let who go away. It’s a strange world and a very tricky journey..

 

A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking

It’s been a beautiful cloudy day. I like clouds. I like rain. I like winds. I like the sweet sunshine that follows. I love doing what I do, hanging out with a bunch of people, college, home, mom.. I sit down on the steps and I can hear everyone moving around and it feels..so..ordinary.. It feels as if you are shrouded by a mist, hidden and away and deep down.. maybe you like it even.. or maybe you don’t, I am not sure anymore..

It’s just a big world and I am so tired.. Being an HSP is shit.. I laugh all day I write all sober and sad and all my friends think there are like two weird sides to me. Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Madonna…

Puff. I am going ter bed

 

 

 

How relateable are we.. ey?

So.. I have been reading this book ‘The sea, the sea‘ by Iris Murdoch but the problem is I get to read it only in the bus (my spare time) and it’s a short journey from college to my building. So yeah.. it’s moving pretty steady. I read ‘Under the net’ before. Nice book. Both of them.

But.. I stopped reading a lot many times thinking how relate-able some of the characters were with me. Same has happened many times while reading many different books. I see a character description and I’m like.. hey.. that’s me.. that’s how I see myself. And that’s how I think I am seen by so many others. Then I started thinking, there are so many songs that just.. click. Hear a song and you feel as if it was written for you, as if it was sung for you. The melody just blows your mind away as the singer hits you just where it’s tender..

And then I thought.. am I just.. too common..?

Nobody likes to hear that. We all like to believe we are much different from others and maybe on some stages we are, but on so many fundamental levels.. I guess it is all the same. Or is it just all sensitive people feel the same way? Have we been objects for Literature from the beginning of time? Or are the writers I relate to just one of touchy feely fools that drive me and my thinking processes round and round?

I don’t know. I just don’t like the idea nor the theory of relativity.

Why you no like me Einstein )=

 

Never knew my heart was attached to wires

It felt as if someone ripped my heart out and left the wires hanging in there. I could feel the electricity crackling as the pain spread through my arm to my back, pinning me onto the bed. I wish I could scream. I wish I could tear away the pain but it spread everywhere. It blurred my eyes and numbed my brain. There are painkillers in the cupboard I won’t go for. I need to feel this agony, I need this torment to make me realize that I will have to accept the end of fate. The end of life and love as I know it.

My shoulder blades seared and I could feel the heat travelling through my body. Minute by minute my life ends and God it feels as if the end is so near.

You know they say we hurt most the ones we love??

Yeah..it works both ways..

 

And lonely as it is that loneliness Will be more lonely ere it be less— A blanker whiteness of benighted snow With no expression, nothing to express.

For a while let’s enjoy the imperfection instead of craving for the perfect. Perfect family, perfect friends, perfect apartment, perfect results, perfect food, perfect country. Let’s enjoy an imperfect day. Sit in that small strip of sweet sun because that’s the only place you can sit with that sweet warmth on your face. On the concrete floor. Take a shower after waiting for hot water all day. And end up with just a bucket of lukewarm water.  Let your hair dry in the blowing winds. Winds with just a tad amount of fine dust and cold. Wear your old pyjamas and worn out shirt that just won’t fit you anymore. Look at your cell, smiling, and knowing your friend won’t call nor text. Why go in and look for a better piece of dress, why wander out and look for a better place to sit, why go search for salt with the sour oranges in your hand.. Here have a piece and enjoy….This imperfect Sunday…

(Title: Frost’s Desert Places, I quote it so often ab to yaad ho jani chahiye =P)