I am not allowed to be afraid.

Crossroads

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.

Unconditionally.

Prayer for tonight

wishing on a start by a window

I have a very heavy heart today. Right now, as I sit by my window and the wind blows through my incredibly wet hair, I feel a burden weighing me down. What do I tell you? I have no words you haven’t heard before.

 

Sometimes, the only way to move forward is to kill that part of you, remove the part so heavy. What a sad move. Little by little you cut away the gangrenous parts and what remains at the end…well I dread to think about it. The hard, callous shell of a person you used to be. How sad, how cliche.

The moon that usually shines right though my window is not around today. It is all dark and I am lying awake, hoping the wind would blow the load away, before another part of me dies, and dies again. Hoping I wouldn’t have to age for one night, wouldn’t have to disintegrate for one day.

So I close my eyes, remembering myself and everyone as I know right now. And I pray, with eyes tightly shut , that tomorrow as the sun shines onto me, I remain the same as I am today.

 
Amen

May the man be dammed and grow fat, the one who wears two faces under one hat

Seriously speaking, I am not a resentful person. I might not forget things but if a person talks to me in a good way once after being foul a thousand times, I reciprocate with thrice the politeness. I have changed a lot but I haven’t become a really bad person, as yet. Foul mouthed bitter straightforward wacko…yes.. but not bad. I pray that doesn’t happen (btw)

But people will not fail to amaze me. And once again I bang my head on the wall. My instincts..are always correct. My first decisions and perceptions..are always true. Believe me.. I don’t like to flatter myself but the term always is heavily applicable.

But why do I go wrong time and again?

I give them a chance
….they blow it

Double faced chance

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

walk away on sand

The boy’s gone. The boy’s gone home.

It’s a tree trunk. It’s a cut down tree trunk. It was planted by my grandma, and then two more  grew on its side. Grandma died when I was 9. Few years back they cut one tree that the storm killed. Then they cut another. And now they finally cut the main trunk as the roots were tampering with God knows what.

What will happen to a face in the crowd when it finally gets too crowded.
And will happen to the origins of sound after all the sounds have sounded
Well I hope I never have to see that day but by god I know it’s headed our way
So I better be happy now that the boy’s going home. The boy’s gone home.

And I am sitting on it, the wind is raging around me, ruffling my hair, blowing through me. I have met a lot of winds before this day. I will meet a lot afterwards. But they never stop to amaze me. They never will stop to make me think and think so deep that my feet give way. I can feel her on my face. Hard cold slaps. Once. Twice. And again.

And what becomes of a day for those who rage against it
And who will sum op the phrase for all left standing around in it

I know not the heart I have. I know not of the heart left in me. I do not know when it all started. When my imagination became my reality and when my reality turned virtual. When the solids around me went up in smoke and the air and the winds materialized around me. I do not know when it all started. I do not know what this wind wants from me now

Well I suppose we’ll all make our judgement call
We’ll walk it alone, stand up tall, then march to the fall 
So we better be happy now that we’ll all go home

I am tired. Tired to be the person I am. Tired to change into someone else. Tired to believe in things that don’t exist and feelings that don’t hold. Tired of trusting. God I am so tired of hope itself

Be so happy with the way you are
Be so happy that you made it this far
Go on be happy now. Please be happy now

Tell me what heart do I have? I wish it was big enough to engulf all the misery and anger and pain, make it disappear. Be lost into some pit and be lost forever. All it takes is a gust of wind. A broken tree trunk. And a bad word, to bring everything bubbling to the surface

But it won’t come up again. The thoughts the feelings. The trust and the depth of love. The very hope in some distant savior turned to dust and the very wind that held on to me so long is taking all those feelings away. Maybe it’s time. To stop walking with the figment of your imagination. Stop talking to friends that are not material. Because if being virtual is your truth, then better walk away from the actual. From the solid. Their reality is much perfect without. Without you

I tried to live my life and live it so well
But when it’s all over is it heaven or is it hell
I better be happy now that no one can tell, nobody knows
I’m gonna be happy with the way that I am
I’m gonna be happy with all that I stand for
I’m gonna be happy now because the boy’s going home.

The boy’s gone home.

sparrow and tree
(Lyrics: Jason Mraz’s Boy’s Gone and Title: Oscar Wilde)

 

 

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

sitting with flowers

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..

happy glasses

Are you dumb because you know me not, or dumb because you know?

rain

It’s a long journey when you have to walk from the class to the bus stand when you are walking alone. With friends the distance seems like hardly anything. But talking about this again and again makes no difference. It’s not like it’ll change anything. Anything. It happened in the past and nothing I say will stop it to happen again. When a friend starts to hurt and the remorse starts to evaporate soon enough… a time soon comes when the remorse is not felt at all. Why does that happen? I have no freaking idea. Maybe we get adapted to one thing and then we don’t feel it at all

I don’t make a lot of friends. It’s not my habit, it’s not in my power. When I made a best friend I thought I would never have to make another friend ever again.

But I have been left out. Once, twice,thrice ..so many times. Sometimes it feels as if it’s a lie I tell myself everyday I wake up and every night I sleep.

Well. I am waiting for the day it starts to make no difference to me too.. And boy I have been waiting for a long time..

(Title: Frost’s Flower Gathering)

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..

For what is it to die, But to stand in the sun and melt into the wind?

sitting_in_the_sun

Apple green and light blue. Simple colours that light me up. Brown wet hair blowing dry in winds and that sun warming everything up. It’s Sunday. That ball of light was up. I watched it the whole day, until it sank behind the trees I am not friends with

Sometimes, everything seems oddly at peace. We shut that mind that heart that conscience in us and for that moment everything is still. We close our eyes to everything we have done, all that we should’ve done and sit somewhere on the grass. Not trying to think. Not thinking. Not breathing. Not listening. Afraid that the tiniest of whispers would shatter it all. The mist would part and we’ll have to face it all. Face all that we left behind. Feel  her still there. In the past. Near. But so far from the heart.

But how long will she stay. How long will she wait. How long will she break. One day, when the clouds will leave and the Sun will pour itself to light your blind eyes, you won’t find that friend there. World’s oldest story. No tracks. Not a single reminder of her existence. Even the words in your head will sound distant and blurred. A slight sting would remain, buried somewhere deep in you. A thorn buried deep in your flesh.

No matter what, son, The Sun will rise. It will rise from behind those trees, that, ah, just never became friends of mine.

Sun_behind_trees

Title: Quote by Khalil Gibran

Life without exceptions

That’s how I live it now

Exceptions, mind you. All my life I have been.. a tad introvert. Not my fault nor do I complain, I was bred this way and I am so set in my own ways. It was very difficult to make friends in old times but slowly I got over it. I still cringe from large groups. A small tight group of friends. Meanwhile now I can talk to….anyone

But all my life I kept a lot of things to myself. Not my fault, me and my parents are two entirely different entities and mom never shared her pain with me and I never learned how to do it myself.. and my sister died.. my grandpa died.. everyone closer to my heart left before I understood a lot about myself and the world. I always had one or two people I called the exceptions.. No matter what rules I have in my life.. I will break it for them.. no matter how much I run away from the world I will not turn my back on them. I might ban the whole world to my heart but when a close friend will ask me what’s wrong.. I will talk.. They were exceptions to the sensitive personality I still posses, and saved myself from a lot of hurt.

Back in the old times, I had a lot of exceptions..

But then.. I stopped.. stopped giving people chances after they broke my heart once, twice, thrice. Stopped talking if they cut in once, twice, thrice.. so on and so forth. And now I sit here, amongst a wall of books, wrapped in a maroon shawl with cold hands and with… so many friends.. I am the local clown for God’s sake.. I can make people laugh with a bam ! There was time I would cry over a stupid thing and yesterday when a friend found out that I was quite unstable after a viva the other day…. she was taken aback… Haibar.. you.. can cry?

It’s nothing to be proud of but still..it was so ironic…

I don’t make exceptions anymore.. The more the days go by the more comical and sarcastic I become. Like the walls keep forming around me and I bloody don’t mind.. It’s like I am far far far away from all those people I once loved and you know what..it’s their fault.. you leave a friend alone in a crowd and expect her to be the same at the end of the day when she had to fight all the stuff herself when she knew she had a friend nearby? Being alone all by yourself is another thing and to be deliberately left out is completely different. It hurts more

But still..flashes of me remain. I will still leave everything if you call for help. Even if not.. passing in the hallway I will give you a smile as pure as the ray of light. But then..gone are the days I broke promises with myself.. If I am gone. I am dead. The dead may have ghosts about them but you can’t touch the heart in them anymore.. That went with the blood and flesh when the heart stopped beating… The heart you broke..

Once..twice..so many times..

There are always those people..

 

This is just something I think all the time, and its late and heart feels heavy as I nearly broke my hip, slipping over wet tiles. Oh great life

There are always some people, you know, will never turn their back on you. I am not talking about parents here. Okay. I mean whatever, you know they will be with you no matter what the world might turn into. Why? You just know that. Maybe they said that to you, in one careless moment when they did not know that themselves. They meant it then. Then time went on. We all meet people. Sands of the new roads make our promises dusty and before you know.. they leave you.. hanging there. You are caught up in that old promise and perhaps they made better ones with someone else. Or maybe things just change.. for no reason. Just because of the clock alone ticking away on your wall.

It’s just.. life changes after the very people you love just…no longer care for you anymore. Your perceptions change, the very way you view relations and friendship changes. Then no matter what you do.. they won’t come back. In the time you were making up your mind you lose so much. Yes the sun will rise. Yes we all go on. Yes we find new smiles. Life never stops. But the dead haunt you.. haunt you forever

Is it worth it? Breaking a friend’s heart just because you have a better life now? Just because your life is complete and you think that wallflower is no longer needed you just throw her out? Or keep pushing her away until one day she just disappears from your world entirely?

…You must have a great conscience, love.