It’s better to burn out than fade away

Ok. I and a bunch of friends got kicked out because we were late for a lecture (but no we actually went on a detour from canteen through the grounds in to the basement =D) not kicked out.. we didn’t go in after we saw the self study class filled with my crazy theetha batch with girls and guys nodding at us treacherously “Undr mut ana!” (Don’t come in!)

So I came to the computer lab. After this I have a PBL class (problem based learning). Then I go back hostel. Grab my bags, call a cab, run down the bus station get my tickets, jump into the bus and back home. It’ll take five hours, blah

Jee. I am so sad..

I mean. I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I don’t feel like making all the crappy jokes I am known for. I don’t wanna go out and have fun. My hand is still blue from the hike. 3 hours of hiking with my worn out shoes and walking all the way back because the first years got lost or what… It was fun! It was so.. damn.. fun. Rain, hail, twisting roads, mountains, the great Mosque, the greenery, the pine corner, the stones… The cup full of ice gola the great expensive restaurant the band the crowd the clamour…Allah.

But then the three weeks of papers

And then I am exhausted

It feels strange. Why am I writing over here? I can just simply fill a page of my journal. I can quietly fade away. Sometimes it feels as if I am one of those goody good side roles in movies. People who are very good but they die before the movie finishes and are barely remembered after the end titles. I don’t wanna have that role. I have my own story. Or rather I want to have my own story, rather than being a part of so many anecdotes. Sigh. Or I’d rather be Mysterious Mr. Quin. But no.. I have a tendency to give people chances to find me. Once, twice.. thrice

 

Oh never mind. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be

You can’t break what’s already broken..

 

 

Sometimes, no matter how much faith we have, we lose people. But you never forget them. And sometimes, it’s those memories that give us the faith to go on

Night or early day, I know not. My eyes flew open as the stab settled in

No, Lord NO!

I knew the pain that would take over, starting from the shoulder blades down to the arm, now the ribs too. Clutching my teeth shut I sped to the kitchen. No, God, no. Popped the pills and drank enough water to push them down. Quick opened the fridge and filled the injection. No, please, don’t spread. There was no time, plunged the syringe into my arm and slid to the floor. The pain would go in half an hour now. Recede to a level that won’t get me screaming. If I was not already doing so. If I was not already wailing. Stifling the cries as the eyes leaked with salt water, sliding farther on the cold marble

Pathetic. It was pathetic. My body reeked of pity. I so wanted to cry in the real volume. Sob harder. I just wanted the pain to end. Just leave my body.. just leave my existence

Got up, came back. Sat at the edge of my bed. Face wet and arms sling. Chest hurt. I was crying for Dad. I wanted to go to him. Lord, I miss him. He was the only person who knew what was wrong with me. The only person who understood me. Sob shattered through my weak ribs and made me shiver. I hated shaking in despair and agony. And it was getting worse. The pain won’t stop. The arms won’t recover. Dad was gone. Buried under a pile of dirt. Just like I would be. Soon

How long is ‘soon’? Four years? Five years? 10? 12? Tomorrow? This night? How long have I got? What difference will it make? Will anyone’s world shatter, just for a second. For a second will there be that realization that she..she’s gone? What will mom do without me? Others can live. Oh it has been proved…once..twice..thrice..four times. Lives don’t stop. I don’t want them to. It’s just that feeling when the world isn’t the same anymore.

I pull on my cardigan. Slide into my tight trousers. My forehead is slick and wet of the wave of pain that just receded. Mom’s asleep in her room. I wear my glasses and start digging into my drawers, until I find a shattered frame and a torn picture of..of my family. Broken ages ago. I see him looking at me as if I was just about to fall. As if he would catch me if slip from mom’s arm.

I’ve fallen dad. Once, twice, thrice.. four times

Slowly the medication takes over as I sway. Remove my glasses and fall over my bed. I see faces of everyone I have ever cared for in my life. The images blur my mind and the words crash in my brain again. It is silly how everything seems right and then everything is wrong. The world seems dull when the insides are gray. As my insides pain, everything around me is thorns. I feel Dad’s warmth as I fall through numbness

And If I have ever loved anyone. I have loved you. In so many smiles. In so many tears. In all this pain. And through all my fears..

I glued the broken mirror

It’s us. It’s me. We all have a whole world situated in us or maybe our world is us ourselves. It’s too ironic, it’s too strange, too captivating. The variety of emotions we possess. The amount of them we let free. The persona we develop. And the.. the destiny

What am I? What do I really know? What percentage of life and destiny do I really understand? What part do you understand? Why do I even ponder on it? Why do we all? What’s the true meaning and reason of our actions? How much do they affect us and the people around us? Why what’s the problem with me…

It’s a mess. We all make so many mistakes and the losses stay with many of us. And we all live in future; whether it is the Sapien nature or what but it is always the future. We live for future. I do. Every second I live in pain I say there will be a better tomorrow. With every person backstabbing me I still trust that someone someday truly won’t. With every fake relation, I trust in another to prove me wrong that one day ONE DAY I will be paid off. One day the circle of life will be completed. I can’t really hope but why don’t I just stop wishing.. Why don’t I? Why don’t so many people I know. I feel like a mad person telling others to hope and trust and blablablablah. When deep down I wanna scream unto their faces. IF IT HASN’T HAPPENED, TRUST ME IT WON’T

I have a distant friend whose dad left her mom and married some psycho damsel in distress. She told me everything yet I was then a masked stranger, She said what every reeking person says to me, “You understand, As if you knew the pain” No dude I never did. Overtime she used to say that one day, one day, her dad will come back to her mom. But.. no.. if once you lose someone… Buddy you lose them forever… I wish I could see straight in her eyes and tell her so. Tell her to.. move on. The future she’s awaiting will never be like the one she dreams. It seldom is. You have to be very lucky for that…. and are we really so?

Me? I’m losing hope. No more search for love. If it’s there. It will find me. If not.. I think I pretty much have learned how to survive…

What a great liar have I become….

.Dated: 15 Oct 2011

Positive changes? I love thou

Well, I was kind of reflecting.

That’s right, I do that

So, I was sitting back, on my creaking maroon chair, and looking around my room. Listening to the voices issuing from the tv in the hall. I found a lot about myself. And I feel.. cool

Living for more than a year in the city, I developed this habit which is sticking to me pretty hard. Like it’s tattooed in my persona, I cannot take things in bulk anymore! In the city, because it was a temporary shift, we took a quarter of our stuff, Less furniture, less utensils, less cutlery lol, we didn’t even take our microwave! All my time there, I used to complain about it. I used to crack the hell out when I wanted to eat my ice cream in my own cool bowl but Mom didn’t bring it because it was WAY too expensive and she didn’t wanna damage it during the moving, same goes for my library and dressing table

I lived a whole year and a half with scanty stuff, compromising when I couldn’t find things because we left it HOME. Now I am back and all the bulk suffocates me!

I LOVE carpets, but we dint have them in the city, now my room bites me. I slept on a single bed or in my tiny room, on a mattress on the floor. I loved that. Now my medium-sized bed looks HUGE. I used to have a few dresses in my closet, now the store-room HAULS me out if I ever step there. Used to have a single bottle of shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer on my table, nothing in the cupboard. Now the load we have there, I honestly want to run away

Even food. I got used to of eating cold food because Mom won’t risk bringing her Oven, Now when I eat last night’s sandwich so hot and tasty, I feel so awkward

I feel so awkward around myself at home. With so many rooms, such a cool kitchen, and spacey bathrooms on top of everything, Our stores are loaded with old stuff, out of season clothes and blankets. Decoration pieces. THEY BITE ME

I mean, a big house is good, I thank Allah. I thank Him for everything. But I thank Him for putting this thing in me. I want a lot of stuff (electronics yeah) but it is an awful mess when I have to clean my room now. I mean, I never knew I owned so much. But it is good to be a minimalist lol. I can give things to people who require them and still not feel bad =)

You know, I hear Mom pray after prayer to God, when she thinks I am asleep you know, that God, make my daughter strong, make her heart and soul pure, make her a good human, make her know the difference between the good and the bad, don’t let her stray, look after her, and may she never get materialistic, may she never have the love for the material, make her love You, make her love her religion, make her a good Muslim, help her abide Your rules….

It’s pretty long, I turned over so she lowers her voice, didn’t wanna spy her praying. Wish she had a better life. But I know Allah loves her, gives her all she asks for. Dad loves her. I love her. And Allah listens to her.

See? I know why I am a good person =D And as per my best friend, I should be proud of it! Lack of modesty? Get outta here…

(Twenty Minutes later when I read it, I swore the world was ending soon)

My stuff from “the Negative Sign”

I started that blog to experiment stuff and I do that a lot so here is a some of the stuff over weeks I’d say

Haiku:

Day 1

Going deeper
And deeper still
Diamond Supreme Foam
 

Day 2

Lied, laughed, lived
Three seasons did go ahead
Then a  summer death
 

Day 3

Out from the lonely Hall,
A long lasted test in Summer
Your dead body, My tired soul
 

Day 4

Packed, gathered
An Autumn trip to boredom
Uncle oh Uncle…
 

Day 5

Emails, ninety nine
Sitting up all night in Summer
Waiting for the one
 

Day 6

Walking along the way
I now lost a friend, old mate
Crossroads
 

Day 7

Four choices lie 
One answer to choose
Multiple choices.. ah the Mcqs!!
 

Day 8

After the storm
I hold a little sparrow
Dead home, broken song
 

Day 9

Dad’s watch
Ticks on my wrist
Two-fifteen
 

Day 10

Sweat touches my brow
As I mow the wet grass
A midsummer morning
 

Day 11

Cold December wind,
Walking through the fields one morning
Blew my shawl away
 

Day 12

There was pain in my arms
And in my brain I knew the imaginary never existed 
Still, the phrase hurts
 

 

Day 13

One late afternoon
Dancing jumping racing squirrels
Disappeared in my tree
 

The Negative Sign

 

It is just one of those thoughts I have

I can’t come up with a story. I am far too drained and tired. Brain is cracking. Hands are limp. Not dead neither dying. State of pure tiredness. And will transform into the State of Nothingness soon. It’s good. Helps body heal. Muscles readjust. Bones breathe

I am not going to tell the story of how I roamed around the planet getting stuff done and how much did I miss my Dad being away. Nor will I say what part of me rejuvenated or which part just so darned surrendered. Nor the vibrations tearing my body apart. Nothing. I am sitting on my maroon chair. I am home. I am eating Twix. Just finished a pack of Milky Way. I am ok. I’ll soon transit into a better and peaceful state

So what if I am hearing James Blunt and so what I feel like sighing? So what if those parts of our heart that cling to our souls and minds and suck any bit of light they get? So what if there are things we cannot just let go? So what if I think that my pc’s battery life is almost over? So what if I hate my cell phone? So what if I don’t care having another? So what If I am pissed off due to absolutely no reason? HAN? SO WHAT?

Sick of drama. That’s it. Want to sleep and get over it. I just want to get over it.

Ene ende abeba negn

Nice guys finish last that’s why I’ll treat you like- (click it)

Ahoy there!

The biggest problem with me and my writing is the word ‘Mood’ I’ll have plenty of drafts saved during bad-days but no, I cannot post them until the mood the feelings rekindle and come back.

At the moment? This is the fourth try. I am happy so why shall I put up the balderdash thoughts and stories from low hours? That’s right. Happiness isn’t worth anything until spread, multiplied and absorbed by hearts numbering way more than one. And that too mine. Wait a minute did you get what I just wrote? Good luck warriors =D

I wanna scream the lyrics from the song stuck in me mind twentieth time past four months. Yes that’s right. I never knew all that. Really. (Precaution: Severe lack of modesty ahead) Literally forgot that I was such a lovely person. Until my friend Muki told me. Forgot that I was a great person until my best friend Anne told me so “Man Haibar, you are such a great person”

I hate compliments. Despise them. They make the atmosphere so ooey gooey and so sugary and make me cringe. But alright.. Sometimes when the people I really care about and the people I CONSIDER say something like that I flip and flop and become so pop and just so totally flop. You give me happiness and love. I will return that multiplied a manifold. I know this post is completely pointless. I don’t care. I am a purple daffodil, and guys.. it doesn’t exist.

I have this time. And I am gonna say all I want to say and no traitor or liar or hypocrite or backstabber can stop me from saying anything I so truly wanna say. I don’t think about myself. My thoughts, feelings and memories are adorned with the people I love and people I CONSIDER. Sometimes the vibrations gather in my body. I pick them up from places arbitrary. And I pile them up in me. Sometimes they are bad. Sometimes they are good. They pile in me and one day BAM I go off. Happy or so brutally broken. Emotions are always extreme. My soul and heart are two ends of my existence

At the moment my heart is a big bubble. Filled with bright light. And light, as Plato says, is the Shadow of God. I am a humming-bird at the moment. I am a paper boat. I am a person who is so absolutely saturated with happiness and whose cheeks are flushed. Bringing pink into a face that’ll fast go pale and yellow.

I don’t care if I die now. I don’t. Really. I am happy at the people I have in my life. I am happy I met them all. Things will go on. The thing about hearts is that they change. My sister used to say that change is the only permanent thing in nature. Ways will part. They always have. They always will. We all will have some kind of life. I hope I be happy in my mine. I pray you be in yours =)

But you only date bad guys so I’ll give it my best try (click it)

(Title stolen from a friend) Translation: “I am like Flower”

The Courses of true love never did run smooth

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.

I sit and I sit. Too depraved, too emotionally and physically drained. I don’t know how many have you reached or gone through this state. When you give up on everything and absolutely everyone. Too tired to go on. Too tired to call, hold someone back; even yourself. After a long walk we sit on that bench, body cool with the evaporating sweat. Wanting to escape into a world where you don’t have to think….

Yes. For a person like me who goes wild thinking, the state is a bliss. But somehow today I sit deeply disappointed, lacking the feel. Lacking the want to converse with anyone. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna talk. I am so defeated. I am so tired.

The water rushes and hits the cliff, eroding it. With every force a part of the strong cliff gives way, It’s not visible. Not apparent yet. Only the hardest remain; soft lost to the waves ages ago. Once part of a great cliff, the pebbles now rest at the bottom of the salt water.

I look above and watch the clear blue sky, marred by a few clouds. The salt scented wind fills my nostrils and inflates my lungs. Every blow threatens to break me apart. Harsh words ring through my ears and I remember the pain with which hard and blunt words hit. Deep breath. A wave of breakdown evaded. I want to lie back over here and I want no one to disturb me. I have lost myself to these waves. I am pebbles, lost underwater. I am that bark, ripped from roots due to that storm, I am a healer lost in her own pain..

My dad comes and sits by me. His silence mingling with my melancholy. I think they acknowledged my prolonged absence at home. I am touched… He won’t hug me as I am a big girl now, he messes my hair with his elder, strong hands.. And.. and I fight tears no more

  

(Stanza from Robert Frost’s ‘Desert Places’)

Wind and Window flower

Sometimes it is so difficult to inhale one’s defeat.. so difficult to accept things and move on. To understand the facts and face the reality. It’s so difficult.. it’s so hard

And here I am.. packing my bags… Opening my secret drawers and reaching under the sofas and mattresses and piling all the books together. Sweating all over and arranging them in a carton.. or rather cartons. That is the only thing I pack.. or take care of. My books. So it took me a day to pile and categorize and thanks to my sis-cum-cousin now I can’t even find a single pen…

The point is.. with my cousin I am a bouncing ball.. Sarcastic and humour filled teen who’ll make the environment burst with laughter in two minutes. Haha very funny. Really witty….

But of course.. Things run a different course at the back of my mind. I feel distant and uneven. It’s the long run that scares me. And now I am going away again. Feel so tired. Feel like giving up. Shall I give up? Shall we all give up? Someone once said to me what was all that struggle for if we give up midway? But how long.. How long does it take. How long do we have to stay like this? Do these races and struggles end like.. ever?

They say live each of your days like it’s your last.. But that can be done once.. because if the next day is not your last.. you might aswell kick yourself. Sometimes things seem to just run out of hands. Everything spilling from your hand like sand… the harder you clutch the faster they flow…out

I have a bad habit of piling unnecessary thoughts and opinions together giving my presentation a very mosaic look. But things don’t have to have a theme. There isn’t supposed to be a moral in everything. I am sitting here watching the brown cartons I am here ready to go back yet deep in my heart I do not want to retreat to my older self.. my older home. Past is dead but dead people have ghosts about them and the memories are something I am not willing ti embrace because.. because.. I DO NOT have space to keep any more pain and one blow.. and poof I am down.. and believe me.. I receive such blows every single day… It’s a hobby to some people…. It takes a lot of courage from my side to go on. A lot indeed….

Life was never this way.. the roads were never so broken, the journey never so shaky and the destination never so uncertain. The paths scatter in different directions.. each leading to places unknown.. offering journeys I will never be prepared for……

Patience is something I’ll never have.. Love is something I’ll never get… It’s the small friendship I cherish. So I snuggle in the mattress on the floor. And look outside the window. And I silently call the wind…. And you know.. I never said she always answers…

( Title : Poem by Robert Frost)

Here lie I Timon

I was passing the graveyard… one of the most lonely places I had ever been to..It had the same old air about it as we read in books and similar to what we see in movies…Time suddenly started to  flow very slowly as I found myself amidst a thousand memories.. threatening to drown me. I could remember myself in that play yard holding a dying a friend.. But his tiny body wasn’t buried here.. He wasn’t here to call my name again…He was gone and had left my memories bruised to the extent that I still bleed..

Was she here too? My flesh my blood torn apart from me before I could barely have the loved feeling? But ah her grave was lost soon after she was buried… She was gone and wiped away from the world’s memories as if she never existed… She wasn’t here to call my name…

Was he here too? A man who loved me more than seven fathers? Was he here to see his child was bruised? Was he here to tell me he still listened to my cries deep in the night and that he still remembered that I loved him more than mum? Will he stop me and tell me I’ll be alright? Will he hear if I say I love him? Will he call my name and hold me back?

Now I pictured that white beard and that white dress… I could hear the old man teaching me the Holy Book…. I could hear him teaching me basics of a human being… I could see him reading books through his thick glasses… He was the same man who walked across the hall on his old legs to see his grand-daughter’s sprained ankle in the epic netball match..It was against his nature to love and care for girls but ah I had always been special…Was he here too? Was his pure soul waiting for his grand daughter to come at his grave? Would he call me and ask me about his books? I would tell him they were safe I would tell him I loved him… something I never had the guts to say…

Were my dead uncles here too? The same who came at our place at every festival and brought me so much stuff? Was my grandma here too? The same who used to stand in cold scolding me to wear my cardigan…?

I closed my eyes and they were dry I felt my heart it was steady… I dragged myself away from the buzz of these memories, there was no one to call me back, For this graveyard had long been silent…

I had gone far. I had reached the end of the my world. I was done with lies. I was done with games. The world I lived in will not let me stay happy. And the ones who would’ve cared, won’t call anymore. So far away now… I started digging my own grave. It was about time