To Whom It May Concern

(Android Post)

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I do miss it, sometimes. Blogging, writing, old friends etc. But I am not as sad about it as I should be. I am not that broken anymore, nor do I need to vent so much because I don’t let things pile anymore. Being a more stable person, has somehow made me a bad writer. Having more confidence has somehow made me less impulsive. I don’t feel like doing things I would’ve done earlier, just to validate myself. And a genuine lack of interest in social media is partly there because, I just don’t care anymore of what’s out there. I know my priorities, after being mistaken about them for so long. Have you woken up, one day, while reading a book, watching a movie..and know that you know far better than you ever did. That you are up now, and you see better. I am glad those phases before are over and life is, chaotic in it’s own way with much less drama and hurt.

Winters are coming, the season I love. For once I’ll welcome the sun and the warmth from my window, rather than hating the scorched desert it makes my room in summers. I’ll love the Sun like I love rain and clouds. As for Wind.

She always knows where to find me.

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

Back to Basics

Sitting on steps

There’s a little something I call…Back To Basics. It is basically the assumption that we all become that one person in our life when we are, about somethings in ourselves, all we could be. And it happens when we are young. And then times pass we grow up. Incorporate all those changes and experience in us..but then again..comes a point once or more, when we slowly revert back to that place and pretty much become that person lost somewhere deep in the synapses of our brain and the layers of our skin. I don’t know.

I was sitting with Kate on the entrance steps, we both were wearing the most casual, really old, ready-to-be-torn-next-time-we-wear-it clothes, weather hot and stuffy, books surrounding us, laughing at a sudden thing that’ll pop up from some drug, reminding us one thing or the other. And pretty much making a mockery of everything Pharmacology stands for..

And I loved it. I came back, dropped my books on the floor and fell face down on the bed. My long legs dangling over the edge and welcoming the breeze from the window over my sweaty back.

There are a lot of things that dictate our existence and our personalities. Wanting something doesn’t mean it’s right for us or it will stick. Some people are meant to be a little different, a little alone, a little sad and a little crazy. Call it cowardly explanations but sometimes these are the only answers there are.

So tonight when Kate asked me why I wouldn’t text back to my little cousin who, Kate doesn’t know, used to be my best sister before she moved away to a whole new country with her family and went on being even happier than she ever was with a lame old soul like mine..

..all I could say was..aye..she’s better off without me

 

skipping-rocks

The Journey Within

sitting by the road

I am not walking, I am just sitting by the side and gazing far ahead. All I see is..this road. This beautiful road. Flattened by the pressure of so many who have walked across it. Day in and day out. Forward or backwards. Carrying all the weight of their worlds on their shoulders. Such a poetic path. Such an elegant lane. It bends every which way, disappears in the dirt sometime, breaks down and mends again. I see it, then I don’t and then it emerges again.

And I see them walking across too, the flesh that shuffles ahead and the soul that quietly follows. The noises in the silence vibrate through the concrete that sits and the dirt that blows. I put my palm lightly over the concrete, wary of the secrets and pain it might hold. But the stubborn hardness reveals nothing while the wind screams away in my head. The questions ring through the ground and the answers blow away.

I wanna step on this road too, walk across the footsteps of so many who came before me, and disappear like they did. Leave my mark on the ground that won’t talk and give my silence to wind that won’t stay

Some other day, some other day =)

Synapses don’t really change after the 20’s, ey

Cold hands

The cold bit through my fingers as the freezing water slapped over my hands in the morning. You could hear me swear from the ground floor. Boy I was sleepy this morning. As I shoved my toothpaste and brush and soap back to its place I had this weird feeling swoop through me for an instant. Strange.

Went college, had a lousy simple day, everything was off. I couldn’t get a decent history from a patient and had to ask a friend to help me through it and cover for me. I don’t do that. Came back at night. Everything felt off. As if the lights were a little dim, traffic was a little less or bus was a little full. I don’t know

Walking back I just wanted to feel something. A little less numb, a little less bitter, a little more young and a lot more real. Nothing is wrong. Things could not be any better but it felt fake and cowardly. To go along the times just so you can breathe easily and live for a while. I wanted something to penetrate my mind. Come on. Give me an inspiration. Gimme a sign

And lo. It happened. I watched a movie I should’ve seen at least 4 years ago. I would’ve understood it, the sign came way too late and now I just talked myself through it. It’s all okay. Just because life’s gets edgy we don’t have to be the way we become. Sometimes the roads we are made to choose aren’t exactly that great, what we thought was fate might have just been an illusion. Yes, this road is gonna lead somewhere too.. but I so hope it’s worth all the falls.

Because some illusions are

Love. Haibar

Leaf flying

To be or not to be

thunder and clouds

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

 

Neil Gaiman

“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)

 

 

A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking

flower to hold

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

 

 

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.

Favim.com-4760

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…

imperfection

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