I have written about my heart being heavy, I have written about it being broken. I have written about being happy, I have written about being content. For anyone who ever cared and to whomsoever it ever concerened…I have written it all.
And then I stopped, for I had no new feelings to talk about, no ecstatic incidents to share. Everything was a copy of everything that had happened before and everything I saw was something I had seen before, every thought, every word and every moment. Happy sad happy sad, happy happy, elated, sad, sad, confused, confident, happy happy happy..
And there I was, once again..with that new feeling hitting my face. Again..after years. I had forgotten what it felt like to be floating in the air like a dying leaf,unknown, unanchored, weary and afraid of what would come next. Till now I was happy, adjusted. I could fight every obstacle that came my way, cut down every thorn that threatened to bruise me again. And then sleep with a deep feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction.
But I couldn’t sleep tonight. My mind was plagued with all kinds of thoughts, poisoning my existence with all kinds of doubt and apprehension.
My life is gonna change again.
Just when I had started to love it.
Stood watching that blank paper
With girls screaming outside
Happiness, glee or madness
Nor I nor They could decide
While talks went loud and long
A word my pen didn’t say
They laughed themselves into oblivion
And I tore my paper away
The world is just..too big sometimes. When I stand in the dissection hall filled with fervent and anxious people about to have a nice dose of the examiners in sub-stage… I feel… drained.. as if the energy leaks out from unknown pores.. or holes I don’t know.. All I want is to just stay far away. First reaction I ever have to people is utter and urgent repulsion. I just want to get away from their very aura. The sink sometimes is too much for my body to handle.
There’s nowhere to go, hon. We make homes ourselves. One has to learn how to work things out. I am learning. The place I now live seems to have harboured all the great winds in the world… Let’s breathe and pray.. try and make things work for you. College is great. Mates are fun. Heart is the same. Soul learning the new ways of living. Breathe and break free. There’s always a new day, a new spring and a new post in which I might be able to write something less balderdash
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..
(I found this in a lost folder in my computer, I guess I wrote at night after some party or wedding ceremony)
There always are these eerie feelings. They have been there. And they shall remain
And I sit here. Again. As the slightest of the prick finally blows me apart. Again. Been fighting all day. But in the low hours I cease to be what I tend to become. So I just fall back. Let my hair loose. Let them fall free and wild on my shoulders and I retire to face the corner of my bed. Time to just, let go
I remember the pendant I wore. Black. All set with stones. Beautiful. Lying heavily around my neck. I just want to say what I want to say. And I know, there is that opening in me, from where vibrations or feelings enter or leave. I just pick them up. Or let them leave my world. My body, my existence
And I have truly nothing to say. There are just these feelings that inhabit me. I cannot put down what I feel because this pain is rooted so deeply in me that at the end of the day it will, it will force me to repay for all the happiness and laughter of the day. It will make me curl in my bed and call people long dead and places long left.
This does not mean I am weak. This does not portray that I am falling apart. This is just a part necessary for my survival. I am what pain and happiness make me. The stages in between ends up making me.. one of the crowd
Maybe that is the place where I belong. Maybe someday I will not be left alone here. Maybe someday someone will keep me away from crowds. Or stay as I sway with the suffocation burning my lungs away
I am not waiting. I am not yearning. I don’t possess such feelings anymore. I have left and I will never come back. I will not be and I don’t want to be pursued
You know, this time I mean it…
You see I am just staring. Just staring at the screen. Pausing after typing every second word. Fighting off all that is boiling to just burst its way out of me. Biting back my tongue and breathing deep, just enough to evade an anger attack. I have said this before. Don’t piss me don’t offend me. You have no idea what anger does to me.
And yes, again it is thrashing its way through me threatening to blow my arms away. I hate this pain. I hate every stupid single thing at the moment. This is not the cheery understanding or the good me. This is the part of me that exists only to destroy me. And frankly and so ironically speaking, I let it
I don’t need stupid old speeches. Let me be in my situation I will get over it. I have made all those rants. I know it all. If not much, that enough to crawl into the darkness and curl into a pathetic ball while you live a life in which I don’t exist. I want to kill you with my bare hands.. I really want to kill someone.
Well, sounds so brutal but hell I am not one bit like that. My friend says any of these days I’ll snap into a werewolf (my furry little problem). Phuff
If you don’t want me around.. I will never poke in your life and try being a part of it. Just trust me that one bit. And drop that small penknife you have in your hands. I have been bruised by bigger tools.. Leave the small patches left in my heart. It does you no harm by beating that faintly. You can’t even hear it Sir.
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.
Oh I’ve got nothing to say
Nothing at all
Then why am I typing.. Nobody out there is waiting to read the crap I put here
Yes. I am disgruntled because I am helpless. Annoyed because I am disappointed. Irritated because I have nothing to say. Nothing to do. I should rename the blog from the Positive sign to a No-sign-whatsoever-so-get-the-hell-outta-here. Why do things stick to us so bad? Why can’t we just let things GO. Let them BE. I am so thoroughly huffed up. And when after my prayers my fluent tongue is out to curse I bite it back. Ok, let’s not be falsely modest things slip yeah but I try my level best to keep it mild. Wish world had a reset button. Or I had super powers so I could screw the hell outta people who have no regard for my feelings. Now you so clearly know I do have nothing to say I am just typing to keep my mind from straying and my tongue from getting real rash.. God I am so vulnerable
That’s it. I am done. The world can fall to pieces and I swear I don’t-give-a-damn. A nuclear war may start and all I am gonna do is bury my diaries (which I don’t write anymore, dang the blog) I am not gonna even care apologizing or saying those melodramatic “Goodbyes” and I have no one to hug farewell. One or two, maybe
Well. Sometimes we amaze ourselves. Ironic. The girl who would take a bullet for the people she loved is actually out to shoot them right now
It’ll pass yeah, Plus I have a big trip on in my plate. Plus I hate my new haircut. God I should bury myself now..
Plus if you have something that annoys you or has irritated ya lately, My comments section is at yer service. Blah
It’s the stupid feeling when you look at yourself and feel that how stupid you are being, how melodramatic and so absolutely obvious. I am saying this because I am feeling optimistic, I am saying this because I just rinsed my face with ice-cold water and feel new. I am saying this because I know what I know and what I hold. What makes me a better person and what makes me much more lucky.
Comparison. We live according to some scale or model. Judging and rating ourselves according to it. But one soul can never be equal to another. One person can never be exact. No matter how close we are we all posses a great difference in our ideas, our fates, our past and our present. It’s the DNA we can’t challenge.
So I sit here, on my favourite velvet sofa and think of the few hours left to break my fast. I, for now, stop relating to anyone. I, here, breathe oblivious of everything that tends to pollute my brain. If I don’t matter, nor does anybody else aye.
Selfish? No it’s called I-am-getting-back-to-normal
And what leads me to it?
A splash of cold water and a nice conversation.
I am what I am and I am proud of it.
You might aswell go to hell
Here’s a story I have to share. I’ll be blunt and toneless. I have no emotions for it.
Few months back, I was at my Uncle’s country house. Big and green. It was night. Dark, cold. And suddenly there was this storm. I love anything that has to do with wind. All of my cousins sprinted outside and went mad. I sat on the steps and was way too happy. Life was nice. Life was.. okhay
And I would listen to no one. Nothing bothered me. That was the time when my happiness was not polluted by ill thoughts. The storm raged and the trees they flaked, branches lashing through the brutal wind. I had no idea. I was young and.. stupid.
There is that tree in the lawn. It was planted by my grandma. Everyone loves it. It consisted of three main trunks. Whether it was one tree or three.. I never bothered to find out
So in the morning we saw one of the trunk bent. No doubt hit by the wind so hard. My Aunt saw it and said that it won’t last. It’ll die. I contradicted.. Come on Mami (aunt) it’s just bent.. even split but it’ll live, (I have a thing for going for people or things less loved and less known, contradicted and mistaken) She looked at me and said.. It’s been shaken from the roots, honey. The weather was unkind. They’ll cut it
Sure enough. Two days; it wilted and went yellow. Uncle took an axe and cut it and threw it at the side of the lawn, sorry for his mother’s memory
I never felt so dead
Months have gone by. That trunk has been covered with moss. Mushrooms and grass and a few flowers have grown over it. People don’t even recognize it. Nor do they sit under that tree anymore. They say.. it’s lost the cool shade. They say.. the two trunks, blooming with green leaves, can’t give shade to a lot of people now.
It’s not Autumn already…
(Title : Shakespeare’s sonnet 98 and A book by Agatha Christie)