Going to a distance.

The charisma of that midnight walk, the alluring silver moonlight turning the quiet boulevard to almost deep blue, magnificently against the dark sky. They sit on a bench at the leafy sidewalk, outside a café, silently alongside each other, their fingers brushing against each other softly, and neither of them, moving their hands away, nor spoiling it with words. The touch of hands sends a soft shiver, a feeling of being known and being protected, the unspoken promise, that I am right here. She adores the subtle tilt of his head and the side of his shoulder gently stroking her head, when someone passes by, which he does, to make sure that she keeps safe. They are truly smitten, like they have just met. Like a new relationship.

Stealing glances, yet looking at each other when another one is absent-mindedly ordering a coffee or talking about something, mesmerized at the profoundness of feelings that fills their heart and soul. Their imagination dances to the melody of rustling leaves in the cold breezy night, which intensifies their togetherness. They stay engrossed in each other beyond the presence of anyone around them.

20-black-and-white-couple-walking

There is nothing else that she holds onto so closely, other than the smile that he has on his face when he beholds her. When their eyes meet, in between, the conversations, the world stops to wait for them to move on to the next moment. And just as the late-night café starts to dim their light and clean their bars, they realize it’s late, and they start to walk back. Between him extending his arms to embrace her and her leaning her head on his shoulder, they reach home.

The feeling of wholeness, the time well spent. They feel each other’s heartbeat as they nod off, she softly adjusts her head next to his chest, held by him and he assured by the fact that this is everything that they want right now. This moment is perfect in itself.

Every beautiful dream ends, and dawn comes. He will have to leave. So they pretend like its fine with a morning kiss. It’s okay until they meet again. After all, this is what they had chosen, long long ago and happily so. A life where love of an eternity can be felt in a moment and a promise so pure that only he and she could comprehend it.

And the day starts in a normalcy, she closes the door after the sound of his steps goes faint and eventually disappears, and looks at the clock. As usual, she is running late for work. She did not want to spend a single second doing something else when he was there. He would always scold her to be on time at work. She would skip this, knowing they both have their reasons to do what they do.

Funny that this has become a habit now. How she fights with him day and night to plan the next visit, right after he leaves. How easy it is for us to manipulate someone who loves us.

The long week has to start now. Evenings are the hardest. Weirdly enough, she doesn’t get accustomed to his absence even though they are away almost all the time. But one weekend they spend together and bam! She can’t go to the bed, without searching for his hand there. And she looks at his side of the bed, which is empty. She turns around and sighs. She has to make it through the distance, at the same time, there is a schedule, a routine that wouldn’t take care of itself, so she decides to carry on, with the memory of embracing his hand and drifting off to sleep.

Just live

Does anything last forever? How long can you avoid the time of saying a goodbye to the world you have lived in to. The world you have known and believed in to. To all the great things which you took for granted because they were never going to go anywhere, and those people, whom you just ignored, anyway, they were not going to abandon you or anything.

But they do.! Almost every time.

It always feels like there is just one person in this world to love. And he leaves.

And boy does it hurt to look back to those experiences and memories!

And remember all those times, when you almost gave up because you thought that you just couldn’t make it? But hey! See, you did it. You made it through.

And the time, when you were so desperate, that you sold your soul to everything you did not believe into and against every opinion you had about yourself? Today, my friend, you are a better person than that. Or should I say, because of that.

Everyone who we meet have a purpose to serve in our life. I can’t think of any one reason why I want to live with the unexpected turn of events, in my life right now, but I want to. And it just seems crazy. Maybe because I believe that every storm will bring a hope of uprooting more temporariness and cleaning the sight of what is there to stay. The scars of betrayal or the memories of kiss.

What satisfies you? A+ grades. A high end job. A huge group of cool friends. A sophisticated family. A perfect lover. What else? And if you have everything, you think that you are any different. Well let me tell you, nothing separates you from a huge group of people, who all have these things. Nobody gives a shit about another alpha. There are many.

While growing up, we thought that these things are important. First world issues.

We looked for different things in different people. Honesty. Loyalty. We looked for someone who will stand by us. Who will be right there, when the night is dark and full of terrors (Pun intended). In that dark night, you wonder of those times when you fell down and he got angry because you weren’t careful enough to step on the right stone. Times when you were scared to reach on the top first, so he raced against the time to be there when you reach. Times when you couldn’t gather the courage to face the world, so he cooked you breakfast and watched TV with you all day. You seek acceptance. For the rest, you just learn to live between hurt and healing.

Life gives you everything which you seek fiercely, but before that it makes you miserable. You try and you fall flat. You lose hope and then a tad bit of motivation and a little chunk of luck works out. Towards the end of journey, let there be no pretexts, and no qualms. Be devoured of your desires in a way that there is no acceptance of an otherwise.

I remember the first time I watched an episode of Game of Thrones. Oh god what was that. I almost gave up. Then after watching some 4 seasons, I saw the first episode again and it just made complete sense. And how in the beginning of friendship, I doubt my friends a lot of time? And then after living for a couple of days with them, we literally directs each other’s lives, thoughtfully yet vehemently. We don’t have to try to find the sense in everything just today. We can sit back and wait for the mysteries to unfold.

I have done enough things which seemed stupid to others. I am still doing them. I doubt my actions, why won’t others do it. But in my defense, I need someone who can vouch for me. I know there’s a possibility that I might be letting it go too soon, I want to steer clear of any regret what-so-ever. This insecurity is kept well obscured, within sturdy walls, behind closed curtains. Why judge people to be merely good or purely evil? Maybe it’s hard to comprehend that benevolence and spite can coexist as two aspects of an individual. And that fate may surprise me. After all, autumn comes to each one of us every year, but so does spring. How many of us care to stop and smell the flowers.

Be a happy person. Happy in a lazy way. Or in a disciplined way. Whatever suits you. Adulting can be fucking tough to take. Let’s try to align it with our lifestyle. Our generation has been the victim of this inevitable race, where everyone is running to save their ass from this social pretense, eventually becoming the society to others.

They tell you that they are going to pay you shit loads of money. Well they will, but just the right amount to keep you settled in the job. Much less than what you are worth. But yeah, if you can afford to follow your passion, do that. If you think you can’t, well than keep working and take short breaks of earned happiness. There is no right or wrong way of living to the fullest. Nobody knows how to do it right. There is no set clock that certain experiences need to be ticked off the bucket list by a certain age. Let’s not kill tomorrow with our aspirations and expectations even before we reach there. Keep your inner fire brighter than the Sun which reflects on you. That will suffice.

Let’s chase the life with a jar of Margarita. Let the blender be at Ross’. Let’s borrow the ice and tequila from Jo-Chan Chan Man. Let’s get some margarita-mix and shake-shake-shake. Drink it straight from the jar. Who cares? Not so ladylike? Well, me not so ladylike either. 😉

 

 

It’s not goodbye

They have been in love ever since they know each other. What separates them is a city, an incorporeal yet inscrutable barrier of orthodoxy. However different their life has been from each other, they have found the belongingness which they have been longing for in their moments of solidarity and solitude.

And it entered them, like a breath of fresh air. Those feelings which left their evenings inebriated, clicking glasses of red wine lying in the sand of an alienated beach, observing the golden streams of sunlight setting calmly as the moist mistral pass by. Nights which were filled with quiet stillness as the leaves of the trees were carrying slight traces of silver moonlight, under those trees, the euphoria filled their senses up as the kiss has returned the laughter in the woods to the silence.

They embarked this journey where they explored their destiny, as they travelled together, alone and with other important people in their lives, where they used to hold hands behind the bench and steal a kiss when they find a moment. Without losing each other, they found themselves. And they took these moments along with them as the journey further endured. And with every dot they connected, they knew, “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.”

It was not until past the point of no return that they could apprehend that there is nothing more satiating than an ordinary love.

But did I say destiny? Even though they thought they are not losing their own fragrance whilst being colored in togetherness, it got them. Because no one ever knew to draw a line and be themselves, for love asks you to lose yourself and soak up the spontaneity.  You don’t choose to become helpless while being in love. It finds you.

And though they forgot how to live without each other, that was the only option left. Because life doesn’t stop for others while it has been paused for them that moment onwards. There will always be errands to be ran, bills to be settled, calls to be made. And amid all the desperation of gaining what is already lost and holding themselves together barely with tape and glue, they pose a quick glance at their phone contacts and wonder if anyone can make them feel better about the situation and shake them well to get up and find that it was just a dream, this would not happen. Because, everyone told them, “You deserved better, and better things will come along your way”. I feel that’s a pretty condescending statement and degrades the value of every thought and effort ever put in the relationship. Because there will always be better. But what if I like my flawed perception of perfection and don’t want any better. And that’s how melancholy got the best of them.

That night when she saw him helpless and knew she couldn’t help it for the first time in years. She was staring at him with a gut-wrenching intensity. It didn’t come across to her as her fate. In between everything, life had graced them with few moments of enchantment, without even asking for it. And yet she was still seeking for more of them while clinging to the reminiscence of the ones that they have already lived.

Her eyes kept asking him, “So, is this it?”

She kept moving her fingers intricately through the castle of sand they have built together. She was still caressing his arm while he was trying to tug her hair strand behind the ears that was dangling on her face. It felt phenomenal. She hoped she could be cynical. But all she could ever become was a naive die-hard romantic.

“Did you ever wonder that all this time, you have given too much to the wrong person and not enough to the right ones?”, he asked. 

But who decides what’s right for you? Possibly that is the only way we are supposed to find ourselves. Every time someone leaves, they take a part of me and they give me a part of theirs. And I’ll never be the same ever again, though I might become better or worse, but not the same. And maybe, just maybe, when I’ll find all the parts, I will unearth myself as a different person than who I expected to become. However, that’s what I was supposed to become. Maybe love will rescue us all. Until then, we will look for it in the ways we can, hoping that it will protect us against everything we might become without it.

I see myself years from now, not moved on. I am terrible at ending things and for sure I’ll be lamenting the unfinished love and scraping the wounds that were not healed even after years. Unanswered prayers and unmet expectations watching from far off, almost mocking the intensity with which I shattered myself with something which was not even real.

And just because I can live without something, doesn’t mean I should. Just because this is not going to last, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t exist. For love in its purest form can be felt and elevated even in the plight of separation. While being estranged, we achieve new statures of affection. As is being said and I quote, “Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.”

If you ask me, what will I gain anyway from feeling this intensely about people who have most likely forgotten me by now? How do I tell you, it’s because I don’t know, how to leave. I have loved with everything I have got, which means, regardless of the wreckage, this makes me what I am. I just smile. And those who know me, can say, i am someone who has been vanquished by love, believing that love can be both magnificent but tragic at the same time.

But given a chance, I could change anything about all these years, I think of all those wonderful times, when I couldn’t have been happier. Well then, no matter how fucked up, I choose him.

And one day while sitting just across the sea on sidewalks, we will meet and think of all the good and bad times, and I will know to myself, if nothing else, I make one hell of a lover. That’s got to count for something, right?

I believe attachment has damaged every one of us with its depth and intensity. Some of us, however, are never going to budge on discovering the magnificence in all that it brought to the lives. What did I ever do to become such a person?

And I think of all the times he said those things. And I wonder if I will hear them again from him.

 

Raging Wildfire

You tell me to breathe. You tell me to calm down. “Take it easy. There is no chaos. It’s all in your head”. You are trying to help me. I understand. I appreciate. But you are making it harder for me. Because I am not on the same rhythm as you. I feel a little too deeper for you to come in pace with my emotions. I am on my high, which can be madness to you, but it’s regular for me. The intensity which is intimidating to you is passion for me. You find me bizarre? Yes I am a chaos. Yes my demons laugh louder. My soul is stuck to my action and everything I speak or do or feel is ruled and controlled by it. My emotions are more delicate than quill and fiercer than wildfire. Yes I am compulsive and possessive and crazy.  How do I express what I need from you? I have no clue myself. There is never a dull moment for me. I am always on extremes. If I am falling for it, that owns me. Everything I own, owns me. Give me the world or nothing. A petty theft means nothing to me. There is no Gray for me. Things are black or white. I love you or I hate you. This is wrong or this is right. There is no middle ground. I don’t know why you can’t see it. Fine if you don’t, but don’t you tell me it isn’t there what I can see more clearly than the bare reality in front of eyes. I’d rather be doomed by my honesty than be confined with my untruths.

Those eyes are not blank, those breaths are heavy, those eye lashes are burdened and I can’t ignore that. You have to look at me and let me read you. I can’t focus on your words because I can’t see beyond those eyes of yours which have an underlying story beneath them.

How can you be so calm? I can’t trust those whose soul doesn’t reflect in their eyes. And I am no romantic partner that you wish to go on dinners with, and I am no damsel in distress who need you to rescue her. I am not going to write you poems. I can’t dress up for you. I’ll not decorate your room with candles. No scents will work on my sensuality. I’ll not enjoy sitting in bathtub with you. I’ll not praise you if you haven’t impressed me. I am far beyond these gestures.

I am desperate to seek the souls of people I feel close to, and if I lose that urge, probably there is nothing which will be left of me. And I love you in a way that I don’t need to touch you. I can write to you and I can bake for you. I can keep this going with a small photograph of yours in my purse. I don’t have to see you every day to be with you.

The world doesn’t appear to be an amiable place. Every one of us are going to kick the bucket in the long run. But why this trial of that even when you aren’t anywhere near.  Looks like we are already killing ourselves to practice the ultimate D-day. I am not going to give it away because it hurts. I don’t care if you fail. Your failure is my failure. Love for me is a raw emotion. It takes every bit of your spirit. All that you can bring to the table. And if you are here to offer any lesser than that, I am not game for it. It is beautiful to have a coffee together and not ruin it with words, and it is absolutely okay to sleep next to each other and not cuddle. There is nothing which can stop us from loving. Not even we can stop ourselves.

You tell me that I am too intimidating to approach, I have no idea why. I’m so simple. Without any mask. You will see me for exactly who I am. I can’t even keep a poker face if I have good cards in my hands. The spark in my eyes gives it all away. Nowadays its mainstream, if you aren’t fake, you aren’t real.

If you love me don’t just talk to me sweet nothings. That’s way too superficial. A connection should be deeper than that. You can explore the darkest of me and destroy me and it won’t matter because it should be worth killing for. That fire should burn you.

I have only realized one thing so far. People stab you again and again in the name of friendships and relationships yet they wonder why you are bleeding so much. And there are times when you hate yourself for loving so profoundly. You know you are accepting the love that shouldn’t be enough to you. But what a circus. You enjoy the excruciating magnificence of seeing yourself walking through the flares while you refuse to flinch.

You don’t like me. Why?? Because I am not here to please you. Because I can’t make everyone happy. Basically I tried, it just didn’t work for me. So I made my peace with it. I did not care to try any further. I prefer to live in my old blanket on a sunny day instead of going out grabbing drinks with strangers, who can become my friends on the cups of beers. I’m a misfit in crowd but I am surrounded in empty fields and soaring clouds. I prefer to be high on caffeine and play the same song which I might be hearing from maybe high school and there is nothing extra ordinary about it, nothing really, just the familiarity of the music and words and just the sentiments which got attached with it over time. And feeling like I am 16 and can watch that old B-grade movie which was an utter flop, instead of watching that new sci-fi action, chime in a tune which has neither rhyme nor reason, prefer to not take shower for the day because the blanket seems like ultimate insurance, I didn’t go out, no germs or dust got me. And not cooking because I am lazy so just hogging on the cliché “Death by Chocolate” knowing that it’s been a while since I have followed my gym routine and I am in no shape (literally) to take these chances. These imperfections make me. I like these scars, this unwashed messy hair in high ponytail and this loose pajamas with those tires hanging around my body, I mean really, who cares. I am not a mess. I am perfectly normal, or perhaps extraordinary, if I talk immodestly. Make your peace with it or let it go.

“Now if I ever lose someone for having too much depth, for having too much soul, for having standards too high, for dreaming to big, for putting work before play, for keeping it real, For loving too hard, for pushing them to see that the grass is only green where you water it…Then the loss was never mine to begin with”

Isn’t this life better than those pockets full of empty promises, where mascara is ruined by the tear drop trickling on your cheek and concealer does a sucky job of hiding that scar on your soul? I think they were talking about you when they said, “…and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, ‘That was fine’. And your life is a long line of fine”

You think I am broken? Well, have a look again. I have the strength of fixing your world all over again. I have the infinite love to heal it. I have the innate ability to be myself in this world which has gone against me.  Yes, I have moments when I am not able to stand on my own because my anger and my sadness pulls me down. Fine Judge me for disrepair without actually addressing the reasons that broke me.  But remember, everyone has a darker corner of their soul, an unsaid story within them which world knows nothing about and in those moments when we call them cold, they might be just sad. And I am one of those. These eyes have seen so many tragedies and this heart has felt so many sorrows, yet I feel happy and smile at the beauty of colors. If this shouldn’t make me feel fabulous and grateful about myself, I don’t know what will.

 

Half full

Today was one of these days where my heart felt full. One of those days when the air in the morning smells different because the weather is cool and moist. The grass smells grassier and intoxicating smell of moist earth fills up my senses. I get up and check my phone with my dopey eyes and smile to the texts he would send me in the morning, sort of a routine. Unlike most of the days which are weekdays, when I get up panicked because I am late for work, Saturday morning brings with it a sheer pleasure of independence. And with the kind of weather here, I am already all set for the autumn which is still lurking somewhere in the corner.

From the bedroom window upstairs, I watch the people passing by. Group of old man sitting in the wooden park bench, playing cards and laughing with each other. I take the last sip of my coffee, setting the bookmark at the last page of the book, calling it the end of it. Though it leaves me touched. Khaled Hosseini has an utmost perfect way of exploring, not just his characters but his readers to profundity.  It gives a perspective of human judgement, while people might seem like downright evil, over time, their personalities are uncovered to be more perplexing, and they all seem to be suffering or enduring some internal struggle. Or, they are the product of some outside influence, which makes them imperfect self. It touches the infinite layers of your personality and makes you realize, life and relationships are not to be devoured. It is to be savored

It’s raining here and it grows tiresome to go office in my routine shift, which consumes the entire day, we get stuck in traffic for hours, this is a common complaint at this time of year and gets people really riled up. I spend most of my time debating with my cabbies over recent changes in government and law and sometimes about the cultural differences between the geography of our country. For them, I am the alien who has no idea what a Dravidian state is. They admire if I speak a word in either of these languages or try to share my opinion over it. Our differences give our conversation, humorous, sometimes awkward turns. Having lived in different states and having a brief knowledge of cultural differences in our country, since I have had friends from almost every state of India, I do accept that these stereotypes are like written in stone, which can be intimidating to people. Once they cross these barriers is when you see the love.

One of these mornings, my friend decided to come from her car and she picked me up. As usual as soon as we met, we started discussing, how tired we are and how we want to leave office early, whom to talk about change of shift timings etcetera. We cannot and will not control our continuous rant with respect to those irritating elements. When we reach office, in the entry area is a guard who has to put a bar in front of car for a minute, while they check the car for anything unusual. He always smiles at me and say hi, and his smile is unusually innocent and intriguing. The kind of calm he showers, in that hot afternoon, relieves me of thousand worries for few minutes. He stands behind that barricade like it’s his domain, his kingdom. How my never ending wails for my job and my salary vanish all of a sudden. It is nice to not have to know names to know people.

Anyway, while parking, she was facing issues with her car-lock. Disconcerted and disquieted since we had to make it to 2nd floor in time or else we will be yet again judged, for being professionally-unfit, finally I started looking for someone who can be there to take care of this car, while in the meantime we can make other arrangements. I reached out to a guard there, who was checking the car’s fronts for company stickers, old in age, tucked in his uniform which is so loose on his body, baggy eyes and wrinkles on his face. We asked him if he can take care of the car for some time. He replied he can take care of it till the day’s end. We told him we are going to come back at 8 and if possible, can he inform the other guard who is going to replace his shift, to take care of car. He smiled and said, “Madam, I’ll be here till 11’o’clock in the night. You don’t have to worry”. Curiously, I asked him which shift he is working into. And he replied with no complain on his face, its morning 7 to 11 PM. He had no anger of either morning, afternoon or evening shift. He was happy and cooperative that he was able to make enough money to put himself through a decent life. I smiled at him and he did too. We thanked him and moved towards elevators while he continued looking for stickers.

How a person,  who is standing in the burning Sun, facing the people’s gloomy faces and oppressive comments sometimes, is greeting me with so much innocence and smile, he made my day. He is not griping for his job, but I am. I don’t even get to compare our lives. And this old guard, in his age, I plan to get retired, owning a bistro on a beautiful island, where youngsters would come to catch up for a coffee and sandwich and sit and bond with their friends. Somewhere in the corner, will be a new couple starting a new life. I am whining over my shift for 8 hours job, where I sit comfortably in AC, get picked and dropped by company’s conveyance.

I can’t fight over the rules of privileges, whom is it given, and who merit them. They are overrated, never ending and can’t be reached to a common conclusion. Above all, nobody can explain a way to tackle any of those problems. So, why even write about them, if you never had any solutions. Writing about them, and bringing them up becomes moot. My problem is not that we cavil and complain. My problem is what makes us think that we can. That was the last day, I cribbed for my shift in front of my seniors.

Coming back from office, it was as usual late for me to reach home and while strolling my way back I was fuming over getting so late and not getting enough time for myself, I thought of buying a Dosa as opposed to cooking anything, as I was excessively drained. I got my supper packed, and as I started walking towards my home, two small kids were walking in front of me. A small kid, who must be 8 and his small sister, around 5, were walking holding hands, sharing a small packet of biscuit, their clothes were torn but spirits too high. The boy was singing a song,

“Hum logo ko samajh sako toh samjho dilbar jani. Jitna bhi tum samjhoge utni hogi hairani”

When he reached on his last line, his sister also joined in,

“Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani, Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani”.

Again, he sung the paragraph further, “Thode anaadi hain, thode khiladi, Ruk ruk ke chalti hai apni gaadi. Hame pyar chahiye”

Then waited for his sister to complete the line, she said, “Aur kuch paise bhi”.

Then he continued, “hum aise bhi hain.”, and the little girl sang, “Hum hain waise bhi”. Then he continued his song and at the last line, his sister again caught up, “Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani. Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani.”

I reached my apartment. But after years, I felt, I was home. They had no food, no proper clothes. I have no clue what gives them so much positivity to sing like this. I called them, “Hey”, the boy looked back and clutched her sister’s hand even tighter. He didn’t seem to come to me. I went to him and offered him the Dosa, he looked at me and smiled and gave it to his sister. She screeched in joy. They happily went off talking about something.

They were thankful to me when they had no reason to. They had no idea, I gave them food for a day. They had given me the food for life.

They touched me in ways I can’t comprehend. I’d be thankful to them all, for all they have done for me without even knowing.

Comfortably numb

“She lit a cigarette with bundles of tears racing down her cheeks, and after her lips somehow found the strength to stretch into a smile, I thought to myself: “Sometimes, when chaos burns like wildfire around us, we have no other choice but to fall in love with the warmth.

How melancholy is beautiful sometimes. Ever being sad in a happy moment because you know it won’t last forever? Ever considered how impeccable would be the life of the fortunate residents of snow-globe. Envision having an eternity to completely savour the magnificence of a perfect, divine moment before it inexorably passes. Since only the Divine Gods of anecdotal land rule that territory, and you know regardless of the amount, you clutch to a beautiful moment, quick it may feel, will it turn in to a memory for you to live with, till until the end of time.

How long do we want a moment to stay before it passes? Is any length of time, enough? No. Couple of things are never enough. Ever.

Melancholy is actually not such depressing, if you look at the situation objectively. It makes us noble and elegant, which is really unusual, if you think about it. I was listening to Pink Floyd, which by the way have a platonic art within them, can any other band make you wonder and chuckle and cry and feel a hundred things simultaneously. So perfect!

Bit strange how people are so different. How everyone discover joy in different things. We are expected to be upbeat these days. We ought to be sprightly. On a trip with friends, I realized, how different I have become. I’ve come too far in the light of being an adult and responsible person, I’ve lost the touch with almost everyone I used to be. I liked to get clicked. I liked to capture memories. How I used to roam around with my camera in my hand in my college and capture everyone, each memory. I can still click, I‘d love to. Just don’t ask me to be the other side of it. I am surprisingly, weirdly and unpleasantly uncomfortable around cameras now. I was in the moment and I was enjoying it very much, but some silly joke, some picture-posing, and I would be a different person, more than anyone else, to me myself.

Yet, I wasn’t annoyed with myself. I feel there needs to be a case around my sort of inclination. I am not anguished or sad or depressed, or under-confident as some people might say, I know I am not a celestial marvel, but I’ve made my peace with it, long back. I’d rather be someone a great deal more than only a wonderful face. Instead, I am possessed with my own perception of perfection, with my commitments of taking care of the things with no grumble and resistance. I look at sky, I discover them in the same disposition as I am. I look at the water, and it feels the same way I do. I’m not serene like water. I don’t have the calmness of sky. But the way mistral leaves the mists sailing starting with one spot then onto the next, and wave after wave slowly drifts, the course times of the day change from first light to twelve to sunset, and the strings of violin, are they upbeat? But are they sad? They are routine. They are alleviating to me.

My kind of mood? It’s not tragic. I’m content and happy. I too have the strength of greeting the life’s sadness with poise, stoic and elegance just as much as you do. I’ve the calmness of beating the follies of the world with a smile. I smile when I mean to smile. And no I am no Goth. My ultimate aim is not to die. The problem with me is that I get too overwhelmed with emotions. I’m on extremes. I am either on the zenith of jubilation or on the depth of utter silence. But it’s silence. And I feel I have a predisposition for silence. I prefer to live in my own beautiful snow-globe with everything perfect inside. And of course there is a craving of exploring the unexplored and imperfect yet unpredictable world outside, but somehow I feel I’m not able to do that.

People say all the time,” I just want to be happy”. Rarely do we hear someone saying, “I want my life to be meaningful, even if it implies that I am not happy all the time” People do chase meaning in life to be happy since a little measure of meaning is a pre-imperative to be happy, but again, those who chase meaning of life do not always look for happiness. Like, a rich may be happier in his life, but that doesn’t devoid a poor of adding meaning to his life. Why I seek meaning more than happiness is because I feel it’s more permanent. It may not be what I look for, but it is going to stay with me for a longer time. If I like people, I do not just invest my time. I invest myself. And every time a person leaves, he takes a little bit of me with himself. And everyone who doesn’t come back, leaves me hollow and incomplete of me. While spending time with pals, say drinking beer, gives happiness, it’s immaterial to significance. On the other hand, spending time with family, either blood relations or emotional attachment, adds meaning to life.

In my defense, I’m not lazy or boring. I cook sometimes, because I like to, not on account of I’ve got something to prove. I am a simple person. I prefer to sit near the window when it rains, reading a book, I won’t be tried on, ever. I like to shrug the rules off my shoulder and do something which feels right at the moment. I am more comfortable sleeping late in the night, just before the dawn and wake up gradually, with absolutely no rush to surge off somewhere. And I do not follow the money or time constraints that force me to become a social animal. This adds meaning to my life. I find it funny when girls pose countlessly pouting and bending and what not. Rather than clicking the nature’s beauty, which won’t be around once they leave the place, they click selfies. This happens when people put beauty over brains. I have no idea. Then, they call us, introverts, self-consumed. Err really?

All I want is to reach out to someone who will touch me, not with hands, but with feelings and intellect, and then I won’t be this silent person. I’d have fun too. I’d talk endlessly and explore the choices, both theirs and mine. I dream of a shadow, who dances perpetually, when nobody is seeing her. It escapes the window pane and goes to the garden where it relishes the beauty of wind and flowers and it dances with the shadow of trees and birds. It goes to the church, light candles and sings carol, full of hopes. It wanders streets and sits beside waterfalls to savor the beauty of spontaneity. It meets another shadow and trades stories with him in the moonlight under the stars, where there is something otherworldly in the night that tie them together in its spell and charms them with its excellence. Intimacy is not just a four syllable word. Intimacy is not about being physically close. It’s when I wish to share with you all my dreams and insecurities. It’s whom I text in the middle of night about my fears and apprehensions. It’s when that special someone gets my undivided attention, when hundreds of other are seeking it. It’s when I lay my soul naked by your side.

The greatest lesson I have learnt in this world is, nobody really knows you well to become your true friend or real lover until they are aware of every faint emotion, every dark shadow inside you. It is almost impossible to like someone whose shadow you have seen. But do you know what is even more difficult? To despise anybody whose story you know. As a great poet has said and I quote, “To be human is to be broken. And broken is its own kind of beautiful.”

It’s both a blessing and a condemnation to feel everything so profoundly.

Denial

There is a place. No actually it is not just that, it’s an emotion. More like a village, but bigger than a village, but smaller than a town. And more like a museum, it has so much to do with art. So much to do with expression of inexpressible, beyond the words. It has that field which my heart longs, where I am not sitting alone, though there is no one around me. I am with my soul. It is the home. It is where I belong. And it is not necessarily the place where I was born and brought up. And it’s not the place where I spent the best years of college. It is beyond that reality of here and horizon. It is too small to be called a world, but sums up to be the world to me. And there are no Unicorns there, no fairies, no Satan, no right and wrong. What and all discretionary ways to portray it?

I am Confused, really botched up. And, I am continuously contradicting the on-goings with my perception of rights and wrongs. I am so stuck between being too ambitious and too languid at the same time. I can’t be so lousy, so senseless. As if, I have this time in this world to just be squandered. Oh which by the way reminds me, I am also wasted when there is absolutely no time, I have, to waste. However, I am so exhausted, and yes alone. And, believe me, it’s a hard thing to accept that you are lonely. Here in this world, where everyone is posting their crazy ‘groupies’ on Instagram and Facebook and people can’t stop checking-in to the FB, notwithstanding when they are crapping in a loo. Also, people’s updates be like “Pooping in a World-class lavish Loo of Amsterdam, where toilet-paper, gracious its carefully assembled fabric, straight from the trees of Amazon rain-forest, and seat is made up of ‘Heart of the ocean’, which after titanic sank, came setting out to the canal, and here I am (Oh good for you) farting sparkles out of my ass”. Where everyone is in the race of proving his life to be more meaningful and better than every other person, I don’t know if it’s me who find these people amazingly self-obsessed and too-sad-from-inside. Or they might be actually enjoying but my definition of fun is just not this. I can’t be drinking and smoking up all the time and be happy about my oh-so-meaningful life. I can’t be capturing pictures with people who will not stay everlastingly, just because, they are here in this moment. I deny to live in this moment for today. No I yearn something more permanent. This is not my idea of a meaningful life. And I can’t be seeking it any longer. I can’t be patient to be tested in relationships and friendships anymore. If there’s a quality of patience in it, then it isn’t true bonding. And I am ready to love and I am prepared to yield for someone who feels the same way. And no, this is not too hard.

Why life can’t be that jazzy like they show in movies? Why wouldn’t I be able to go on a Euro trip as well and fall hopelessly for my perfect Rahul? Why can’t I be living in Manhattan, sitting on the Orange Couch in the Central Perk, listening to ‘Smelly Cat’ with my Ross? Is it so difficult for people to let everyone live their own dreams and not ruin it with their opinions of Reality? Because, I am sorry, but I am not sorry for my reality being different than yours. And maybe it’s a denial for you, so be it.

I had a friend in college who was after this idea of “wedding planning” in the wake of watching “Band Baaja Baaraat” and she used to let us know all, how she wishes to arrange our weddings for us, and how we all will set up bachelorette parties and baby-showers for one another. Also, we used to be so excited for these plans, despite the fact that we knew we won’t be around forever to execute them. Much to our dismay, we will come so distant from reality that now this world appears to be miserable and boring. A young girl in my heart kept praying for those days to not end ever and as it was supposed to happen, we grew up.

Only it wasn’t terrible enough, life needs to toss more turmoil to us by making us an average person who is more like a ‘baby elephant’, when it comes to flying like Mr. Eagle’s son. Forget about acquiring a fortune and owning a Mercedes for next ten years, you are not really going to make it in this world where every day you will sell your dreams and aspirations in your 9 to 5 job, getting trained for something which has nothing to do with your own plans for life. Life is quite a lot messier when it comes to real deal. And don’t even kick me off about finding the ‘knight in shining armour’. For all he cares, he is caught up with slamming his whore in red lipstick and short skirt with a slutty stocking and charming leather hunter. Don’t go out looking for chivalry, since Ned stark is dead and Jon snow too.

Peace. Is that a lot to request? Yet, fine, I’ll in any case attempt to settle for this new challenge and some way or another in all the scarcity, will be struggling for making my demands meet the necessities of my life, and then there will come that wealthy spendthrift friend, who has a father who is printing more money for his children, than our government prints for the whole nation to survive. Further, that butt hole dependably passes judgment on me for being too skimpy. For not following my dreams, for not making the most out of this gift called ‘LIFE’. Dude! For the love of Satan! Back off.

And then that senior, who won’t skip a chance to judge me. For my work, for when I am not working. For my drinking, for my not-drinking. For staying back at home on weekends, for going out and attempt to smile for a change. For breathing, for not breathing. Huff! And afterward my landlord who needs to know, whether I am drinking or smoking or doing something unlawful in that house,  if I am staying alone or bringing a gentleman along, And If I am not doing this why the hell in this world do I have to stay alone in a 1BHK. And if I am not living alone, then my flatmates who are more agonized than my parents over when and at what time am I coming back? Who am I spending my time with, who am I bringing along.  Who are these people? What are they? Can’t they live without sucking my blood and poking their noses in my business for no evident authority or reason?

Anyway, genuinely any of these issues don’t shake my individuality. No, simply because somebody who doesn’t hold any significance in my life can’t make me feel terrible about it. And I am a strong person when it comes to it. I am that “bitch” who doesn’t give shit to anyone and doesn’t take shit from anybody. I honestly don’t care, even a dime, for anything you do in your life. If you are my friend, you are that lucky bastard whom I will save from any hell that may befall on you.  And if you are not, but you are a human being, then also you are spared of any nonsense from my side unless you voluntarily come jab your nose in my business.  I simply don’t think anything is right or wrong. They are not just black and white. They are grey sometimes. I am that person who feels sympathies for villains because I can sense the reason for their being a villain in the first place. Now that doesn’t mean I’ll support them over you. No! That just mean I can very well understand and relate to everyone’s reasons for being or behaving in a certain way. In easier words it means that please live your life and let me live mine. Kindly tend to your own personal concerns. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.

People claim to be happy and that’s what they post on these social media platforms. Honestly, if I think of the times I was happy, I couldn’t care less to look for a camera. I read it in a book, that beauty of nature or togetherness is just too vast to be captured in photographs. You should capture it in your heart and it will stay there forever. I am a very private person, which can be one reason for me to think this way. But that’s what pricks me that this is not where I belong. I belong to some place where believing is more important than flaunting. My happy place is all where I need to be at this moment and for the rest of my life. Where sensitiveness is not a weakness. Where people don’t call you a bitch for being yourself.  The place where messy means more than uncooked food and scattered books and unfolded clothes. Where friends are there for more than simply drinking or hanging out. Where they are an extended family to me. Where they won’t abandon me because I can be really hard at times. Where ‘jealousy’ as a feeling is esteemed more than simply being something negative. Because it is not negative.  I feel jealous because I want you to want me the same way I want you. I am not scared of others coming in, I am not under any inferiority complex. But I don’t believe in finding out something better just because what’s there right now isn’t good enough or you deserve better.  Not in relationships. If this is an old-fashioned approach to life, then I am flawed. If that makes me conservative, so be it. My parents have taught me a big deal about being like this. Even though they are conservative, they have not just blindly trusted me with everything but also have supported me throughout in thick and thins. And I can’t think of doing it better than them.  And So, I don’t see myself improving anytime soon.

Dilemmas

So, yesterday I was sitting with my friends, Usual Friday, we drink and we talk about our problems, we discuss how others are insane and we are the ideal individuals who have a privilege to ridicule others, we crack jokes. We are know-it-all, never-listening-to anybody freaks, where one individual tells a little great story he has, and he’ll wind up listening to other’s ‘lot better’ story. A few of us are such brute that we can’t stop our insane crap picking disposition, cuz we are only the best, the immaculate. We talk now and again about how the job sucks and how we are not prepared to figure-out, what we have to do about it. We begrudge individuals who are leading an extravagant life on their rich father’s money and how we are way too modest and respectable, to ask our dad for unnecessary luxuries. We ask one-another what they need from their life, and there’ll be a never-ending-never-changing speech, starting, loaded with, and finishing with countless ummm..s and I don’t knows.

I would say this year has been so eminent for me. I discovered a career, a course to life, couple of great friends. I changed my city, my perception for so many things. Glorious year, 23. Isn’t It.?

Still I feel like a teen, however, carrying on like a youngster now is childish and I am a grown up. So regardless of the possibility that I can act the way we like, because it’s only one life, I take a moment of silence to acknowledge, I have obligations now.

I just can’t be that happy-go-lucky youngster any longer. I am a 23-year-old. Though, I still squirm in my seat at my office because I feel clumsy in those formal clothes. I surf on internet, talk to people. I still feel lost in this new city, urgently looking for any serendipity, which will let me believe that the choices I’ve made are legitimate. I listen all night to Led Zepplin or Avicii, because they sing exactly what I am feeling. I despise Labels. College is over. Everybody I knew no more lives in the same city as me, and I ache for the times of running forward and backward between hostel rooms at 1 a.m. I have a couple of commitments now. I find my work really interesting and appealing. Also, it partly balances my need to make those extravagant-fancy degrees feel justified.

As people, we promise each other that we are there for them, though secretly we are judging them for every step they take. We assure each other that those who broke our hearts won’t own us forever. Yet, we are still hung-over the old friendships, failed relationships, unachieved dreams. The majority of our discussions nowadays fixate on assuring each other that we will be fine. We are happy for one another yet hard on ourselves. We applaud our friends for getting promotion or an on-site opportunity, but we constantly berate ourselves for not having our very own consulting firm or business or a flourishing startup.

I always tell myself to quit whining and make the most of it. Life isn’t terrible, it’s dynamic and the world is my own. I have my family and my friends and I’m in good health. I am close to them and I am fortunate to have their back. I have the time to be with friends and celebrate. I get to balance my work and party spree, because I am not stressed over anyone relying upon me yet. Yet this apprehension remains, and it makes me cynical. Even when life is really great, and still I can’t quit stressing. God knows what will happen when I’ll have real things to worry about.

People urge me to calm down. They tell me this will all fall in to place. They tell me to catch up with the time and enjoy it while I still have it. I hear them. I understand. Yet, I wonder how things can simply become alright. We need to put the puzzle-pieces right at their place. And consistently I feel that every moment I am not on putting them right there, I am wasting the chance to make it alright.

I still waste my time the same way I used to, in college, but now doing this makes me so uncomfortable.  Like I’m missing out on hobbies, which I ought to have. I still haven’t finished those books which I wished to read a year ago. I haven’t achieved goals which I wished to peruse a year back. Like I don’t have enough time to learn all the things, I thought I’ll be great with, at this age, and this time is passing so rapidly.

I have understood the futility of lounging around viewing F.R.I.E.N.D.S. scenes, I’ve seen one hundred times, yet I don’t really have a desire to change that. I still dream of having a 2BHK apartment, where across the hall will live my own Joey and Chandler. And I know this is unrealistic, but how do I give up on something so beautiful, something I’ve been cherishing so fondly and dearly since forever.

I’ve always find it better to stay alone and spend time with myself. This is my age of going out every night. I am too young to stay in and do nothing but snuggle up in bed, curl myself into sheets and have these vague thoughts running wildly in my mind about existence. How much of life I’ve lived till now anyhow? The bigger picture is yet to come.  I understand, I should be more productive, my presence must mean something, there ought to be a purpose and it must be fulfilled but I haven’t figured it out quite yet.

Despite the fact that I think so much about how is it going to be, the future, I’m not in any hurry to visit it any sooner.  I don’t want to be at the point where I can’t be viewed as a kid. Maybe because, for the vast majority of us, in early 20’s, life explodes as we try to figure out why we picked that career or moved to this city or loved someone. But I just don’t see how it is worth to give up this time of life to understand the purpose behind those things.

It happens to every one of us eventually, the moment comes when we ask ourselves: Where did the time go? When did the youngsters we used to be once, grow up in to adults? How did the life I longed for, transform into a career I never anticipated? And, how did that girl I saw every day in the mirror get to be a lady I don’t even perceive? Nobody can tell what went between what I was and what I became. The point is I chose to continue onward.

Yes, life can change in a flicker of an eye. Improbable friendships can bloom, important dreams can be hurled aside, trusted people can betray, a lost hope can be revived. No wonder, there are few people who see how rapidly time passes. That is the reason they’re so resolved to get what they want… before its past the point of no return.

So, I should continue moving forward, to relinquish the fear and regrets that keep us from appreciating a journey that will be over too soon. Yes, there will be sudden twists in the streets, surprises we didn’t see impending and lovely encounters, sometimes, in the arms of mother, in the touch of loved ones or toward the end of a spiked edge … yet, that are truly the point, wouldn’t you say?

Furthermore, however a few days it is hard, I make an effort not to live for what’s to come.

After all “The best thing about future is, it comes only one day at a time!” 😀

Good old days

I stopped publishing because few of my best friends told me that it wasn’t good what I wrote and I wonder why the hell in this world, I cared. I started writing because I felt that’s what I like to do, this is how I like to tell what my opinion is. And it wasn’t for anyone. It didn’t need an approval from anyone on being interesting and grammatically accurate. How we change I wonder. At some point of time it really did matter to me what others think of what I like to do. This is where I like the ‘growing up’ part. I think you become more confident, more accepting of what you are. You preserve the right of approval for yourself and for your likes and dislikes.  I majorly respect my critics for what they said was something they felt and it is better that they said it. I am lucky to find such honest people in my life. This is the reason we are friends in the first place. And I realized, they didn’t want me to stop writing. They wanted me to improve. I couldn’t see the challenge behind their criticism and I gave up. But it feels really good to write again. Honestly even now , I have no idea whether I have the full control or I have stopped giving shit anymore.

A lot has changed in this long period of time. I’ve perceived in myself, a sort of psychological myopia . My reality which used to be so loaded with possibilities, all of a sudden began to shrink as my need for security grew. I accepted what came in to my way in the face of all my dreams. I put them in some locker separately and I plan to revisit them sometime now but it all seems so tough and impossible. I have come a long way I guess. I toss and turn in bed for what feels like ages before I fall asleep. And just after I get in to deep sleep, I wake to the sound of the wind rattling through the window. I’m not sad. In fact, I am really at a point in my life when I am happy, a little satisfied with myself for whatever I’ve become. It really did take a lot of sacrifice, hard work, anticipation and patience. I can’t genuinely say that I feel successful, however at least I’ve recouped some control over my life. It’s just one of those phase we all go through. I remember farewell party in college, we laughed for hours, and at the end, we all sobbed because we knew we were parting forever. The misery went on for couple of days, possibly months, I can’t recollect. Anyhow, mere fact that I can’t recollect says, its over. Growing up further, being a professional was hard, I wasn’t ready for it. Sometimes we know where we want to go, however the feeling that moving to that path implies you need to leave things throughout your life behind. It’s nearly a self-inflicted prison that we bolt ourselves into, in light of the fact that the change that is important to make headway is going to put us in bizarre and uncomfortable circumstances; so we stay put.

All of us (including me) have a tendency to concede our joy as we sit tight for this mysterious time where everything will line up, and life will be just as wonderful as we planned. The fact is, life doesn’t start after the struggle, life is the struggle, and instead of staring off into space about the anticipated destinations, we have to appreciate this trip; its truly all we have. Waiting for things to be impeccable will keep you waiting for maybe a long lone time.

I figured out, in a very short period of time that we put a mask of certainty and assurance. In time, that mask gets stuck and we can’t remove it. As infants, we discover that if we cry we’ll get attention. But, we no more cry now, except when no one is watching, Nor do we heartily smile at anyone other than our very own people because we feel that they might feel we are vulnerable. They might take advantage of us. But in this state, things have got so clearer. I don’t feel alone. I’m surrounded by the people who just like me are pretending that life is going normal. When we meet others, we always talk about the same things and same people. The conversation seems new but all we do is pretend that our life is still interesting. When we meet our real people, we tend to burst out with all the emotions which are making our heart heavy and then they make us realize that if they are with us, it is not so difficult. At least we are not alone. By the day’s end, when it boils down to it, all we truly need is someone who know us for our true self and our darkest fears.

At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, it’s usually a load of bull. So we pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we’ve chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them. The people that are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you need.” – Meredith

We all experience loss in our lives even though we didn’t sign up for it. We crib, we stay in denial, we fight the facts and when ultimately we have no choice but to accept it, we somehow make it through the storm. I’ve loved and lost, and I’ve trusted and felt the betrayal. And why just me, I think everybody has a story. I’m also sure some of those people from my past are happy to see me gone. But this is life, and no matter how cruel or unfair it is, slithering up into a ball in the wake of getting dumped isn’t going to help me much. The thing about life is, when it’s good, it’s so very good, and when it’s bad, it hurts so much. And if you can’t find a way to balance all those ups and down, it will make you crazy. There are moments where all of a sudden in a split second, your life changes forever. Some days the whole world seems upside down. And then somehow, when you least expect it, the world is alright again.

“Don’t wonder why people go crazy. Wonder why they don’t. In the face of what we can lose in a day, in an instant, wonder what the hell it is that makes us hold it all together.”

Ever wondered how often are we doing things out of obligation rather than because we simply want to? How often is it about fitting in, instead of being ourselves? What cost are we truly paying, when we do things to please others, at the expense of our own satisfaction?

There isn’t a person reading this, who isn’t going through some kind of shit. What makes people different is how they choose to deal with the shit that comes their way. Complaining rarely helps address it.

The problem is we fail to realize the importance of the moment when it’s there.

You only need the light when it’s burning low, Only miss the sun when it starts to snow, Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you’ve been high when you’re feeling low, Only hate the road when you’re missin’ home, Only know you love her when you let her go

With time I learnt, rather than wasting energy on feeling sorry for what happened, I can show gratitude for so many amazing things that I have right now, for so many people who are still with me whom I might even lose eventually just like I did in the past. The older I get, the more I realize, these emotions will never fully be understood, let alone controlled. So I might as well live this time, follow my heart, pursue my dreams, challenge myself for my hobbies, for all I know, these can be the ‘good old days’ when I look back at my life, ten-twenty years from now. And if they are, I have no time to lose. I’d better put a great show for myself.

Masquerade

I like to write because this is the only avenue where I can express myself without any constraints. Because who else won’t judge you?

After a certain point, it stops to make sense. People you were extremely enamoured with, no more appear to hold your importance. Things around are fast to change or maybe it’s me who doesn’t grow tired of being stuck with the same group of people with not the scarcest possibility to grow. Maybe I am too damaged, too shady and twisty, I feed on people’s goodness and when I have sucked out all that I would, I’d simply outgrow them. I’d rather not let myself know that the world has come up short on genuine people. I would prefer not to let myself know that everyone is wearing a mask and everyone is trying to become someone which I am eventually going to like, but they are eventually going to be tired of pretending.

It’s either this, or that the people I meet consistently are simply faking it all. They take their own sweet time to show their true being. What I fail to comprehend is the talent by which people fake bonding. I can’t fake a “hello” with somebody I don’t care for. Also, I am an easy prey, I accept. Since regardless of the amount of generosity, humanity or just say ‘nicety’ you shower on them, they won’t leave an opportunity to stab you in your back. What’s more, regardless of how hard they attempt, little bit of mask peels off step by step and staying with something they are not, is a lot of an effort. It all begins from step one. the sweet talks, the late night coffees and discussions, the hanging out together all-the-time or staying up on telephone talking, hugging and telling how we strike the right chord, and then afterwards.. The mask, it begins to come off.

Also, what’s exhausting and exasperating is that I don’t learn. I’ll again go to them if they’d simply call me or they’ll be abruptly decent to me. I will realize that this can be for a reason, now and then, I would be so tired of it that I’d decide to overlook them, however I won’t have the strength to do that. Because I am such an emotional fool, I can’t stop caring for them. I can’t just quit adoring somebody on the grounds that they don’t feel the same way any longer, on the grounds that they didn’t do what I expected from them or what they expected me to do for them, or, they didn’t do what I did for them either. And I can’t become one of them too.. I need to be, I need to feel “I couldn’t care less”, at some point in my life, that I truly don’t know how to give a second thought to something. But I can’t stop caring, about people, for things, for turning of events, for routine, for changes, for anything that goes on. Furthermore, when I see it all happening to someone else, a whole set of memories whizz past. The world we live in, is full of people, who feed on people’s grief.  You can either be deceived over and over or you can learn and transform yourself into one of them.

Ever felt something that you shouldn’t? Ever loathed yourself for feeling somehow? Don’t. Since it’s only natural. Everybody’s the same. Everybody experiences the ‘I hate myself’ phase. If people could read minds, they’d start hating each other. Because, no matter how much they think they’re different from others, they’re all the same. Things which aren’t right when others are doing them, abruptly turn out to be correct when it returns to you. Everyone’s dark, ugly and selfish from inside and everybody tries concealing their inner side behind a thick sheath of fake-ness, hypocrisy and what not.

I feel annoyed at times not because people have no values but because they don’t even stick to whatever little that they have. I know I ought to no more trust any of those “promises” truly yet I am frail and I don’t know how to go on without the ones, I’ve clutched for so long.  And though I know it’s even out of their own control to not let things change, I make people promise that they’d not. I still long for something I should not be thinking about. I figure the voices in your mind are a great deal irreconcilable.

They say they are immortal, when they are kicking the bucket every second, by changing themselves, contradicting what they believe in, just the very next moment, giving up on things and people who once meant everything to them, lying to themselves and by fleeing from who they are.

I should also begin to give up my hold on those long-held promises. I can’t believe pretending is so much easier than being yourself. At least it makes you less vulnerable to be naked in the crowd, with every one of those feelings out in the open, people passing judgment on you for thinking so emotionally. I guess it’s easier to put that part of yourself in some dark closet. Why do you need that part of you anymore, anyway? I guess this might be the reasonable explanation for this masquerade we’re a part of,

I think we should just find those people who are going to be there for a while to watch out on you if you’re too scared to sleep alone, who will stay awake with you overnight because you’re just too happy or too sad to be sleeping, who maybe don’t find you that empty or who wish to fill your emptiness with theirs, so that neither of you feel that empty anymore.

Perhaps whatever I can do, at this moment, in this minute, is being grateful for some of those angels who were there at times, as family, at some point as companions, at some point as darlings, or maybe strangers or just acquaintances at some point in my life. Life was hard, I know it’ll get harder yet there were times when I had an eyelash, yet I couldn’t think of anything to wish for, because right then and there I had all that I could ask for. There were times when I felt the presence of that almighty, I felt him walking with me, carrying me in his arms through the problems. All I can say is, if we can glance back at any minute in life and can discover explanations behind everything that happened, and if we realize that it made us a strong and good human being, that we are today, It gives us motivation to live it further, in hope that no matter how hard it is to find that world where you can be yourself, there is a world where you are yourself and you have correct people to admire you for your twisty and dark shades in it.