.smile

I never knew that a smile could scare me.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

I caught a glimpse on the mirror as I walked past it. I did not quite recognise the person I saw, however it has been the same face the I have been seeing everyday. But it was different that day or perhaps it has been the same and I never saw it until that moment. I stared as if I was watching something..someone for the first time. And after all the contemplation and trying to figure out the story behind those lost eyes, I was still clueless. There was so much going on the inside and yet so little visible in the eyes. And I could do was wonder how I was still standing when I have been breaking down a million times each day and why the eyes never told those untold & unseen stories. I found a mystery in myself. Interesting, I thought. Never did I think that I would make myself ponder over me. I believed I had figured myself out, even when no one else ever could. I continued to stare at my reflection. Maybe I wanted to myself to show what I was feeling on in the inside, perhaps in the eyes and wipe that expressionless face that never said a word like the personality that I had been carrying around. Unless I face it, I could never overcome it. All I was doing here was let it get trapped inside and sink in deeper.

A buzz in my pocket distracted the silent conversation with myself. It was a text message which inquired how I was doing? Without a second thought as if it was pre-programmed in me, I replied that I am doing good, and smiled as if I was telling the person in question face to face. At that moment again, I accidentally caught a glimpse of my reflection. Interestingly enough and quite bizarrely, I found was a person smiling which changed back to that former expressionless one within the next second. Quite honestly, it was getting quite boring staring at the expressionless face and I wondered how the people know me deal with me, when I am unable to stand myself for this short moment. But that fraction of a second, when there was that convincing smile when truth be told, I was lying through the teeth when I said that I was doing fine. The funny thing about it was that it looked convincing.

It sort of scared me.

How can I be so convincing when I know for a fact that I am not at all good by a long shot. I am literally hanging by a thread. All I saw was that curve which convinced me enough to believe what I had just said. Why was I even doing that? Why was there even a need to show that I was all okay when I am not? Why am I being trying to be a person that I am clearly not? Maybe I am just trying to fit in and belong in a world that is quite so judgemental and not be an exception to the social norms that we are governed with. How long do I have to continue not being myself and try to be a person falling in the premise of these illogical bracketed norms.

Maybe someday, I will be free from the chains that I tied to my feet, from the weight that I carry within. Maybe. As I pondered over the questions I had no answer to, I tried to smile. And it started to scare me each time I tried. All I was trying to do was find that happy moment when I was happy, genuinely happy and see whether I could ever be. But then again, how can I ever do that, knowing what I was carrying on the inside, knowing what I do not even remember having felt. How could I ever not fake a smile, when that was what I knew.

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.scream

The silence in the voice.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

I stared at the reflection on the mirror. The eyes were searching for something. Some sort of validation, I suppose, or perhaps some answers, but the more they searched, they never even got any close to what they were searching for. Maybe there were no answers, or perhaps, the answers were lost. But in all honesty the answers were always there, they were just ignored. And beside the discontentment of not having, ignoring the answers, the eyes had something else in them, a sense of disappointment.

I sat down to gather the thoughts, the ones which lay scattered, in a web of jumbled and hazy thoughts, which never seemed to make any sense. While the confusion settled in the abyss of a mind, there was this new uneasy feeling that began to surface. It has always been there and this seems to be resurfacing again which always lead to messier things and breaking the already broken. And the unsettling feeling of what is supposed to be done isn’t being done is just topping the already full glass of water.

As I sat there looking into the eyes, speechless and wondering how to answer the questions that lay in front of them, I didn’t have the answers, I never did. All I thought had was one answer or more like an alternative to all this overflowing glass of water. And that might have seemed irrational, but it was the only way that could put an end to all this. And however irrational that sounded, it was sort of comforting to know that there was something that could be done, even though that didn’t land on the moral side of the scale.

The Silence in the Voice.

Now, there are a few more eyes trying to leap into my eyes looking for something, anything. The answers that I have always been searching for. And all could see in those eyes was something I had feared never to see. I was as blank to the questions in front of me. How was I supposed to tell that one thing that kept me going was an irrational thought and that was something that could never be said. While I sat there wondering how this irrational thought could be, no, is definitely the answer to all the questions, not the ideal solution but it was the best god damn alternative to everything that seemed to be weighing me down. There came a point when I stopped looking for any better answers because this irrational alternative was the only thing that could answer the unanswered questions while posing a few too many new questions, but that was not something of a concern to me now. Because the aftermath of this irrational thought was an abyss that I could never return from to answer any questions if there were any, which, with a doubt will be there.

However, and in all uncertainty, having finally come down to this one solution, as irrational it might seem like, this abyss that I was seeking as the ultimate solution was the farther away than it seemed. And that it cold solve all the problems seemed like an illusion. Imagine now, while I look at the eyes in the reflection in front of me and realizing that the one answer that could solve all the questions was just another failure and all I could of is screaming at the clueless reflection still staring back at me, lost in a self created abyss.

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.unsaid

I am not okay;
never was.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

I have said it. A couple too many times. I have said it in metaphors, translating in words that I didn’t even understand and in between the lines, or perhaps all is lost in translation.. But at the core of the things, it is still there. And I have said it way too many times or that’s how I feel. I am still here trying to say, let me rephrase.. I am trying to express in words that apparently don’t reach the people. I am not being cautious, perhaps I am scared. Or perhaps, I don’t know how to do it, how to say it bluntly. I will beat around the bush but I will not say it as it should be said, out loud, crystal clear.

May be that is why I can’t ever feel content with it, content with writing it off and hoping that it will do it’s magic of not making a permanent house in my mind. But, I am at loss of words. Writing was always my solace, my way of letting the things go and hoping that the new day that follows will be less burdened and also refreshing. Imagine the day when we don’t worry about yesterday and looking forward to great day that is to follow. How beautiful the sunshine will be, how melodious those birds chirp, how clear the sky is and how great the morning glory feels like. And in all adversity, how happy we will be, from the inside.

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While I write this, I have hit the backspace a little too much. I might as well have published with the words that I backspaced. I don’t know why! I don’t know why I am so unsure about writing about what I really want to write. I wonder if I am bothered by something that I am having second thoughts on how to put it in writing. I am sure nothing is bothering me. And I think I don’t just want to write them down. I don’t want me to validate it by writing it down. I just don’t want to sign it off as exactly what it is. Because as hopeless and crass I might be, I will try to look for that tiny lost hope that it will all get better soon. That, things will change and I won’t be in this place where I currently am at. You might… let me rephrase, I am not but I think I am a little superstitious. I don’t like things getting jinxed, as in like if I tell something bad, it will definitely happen, and if I say something good, it will never happen. I have this superpower that I control the world, my world. I just have to think of it, the good or the bad and it will happen, just the one I really don’t want to.

I have written about it. I continue to write about it. But at some point, it feels repetitive. Like the earlier few lines. But today I will “really” write it. Hopefully, I won’t bring any metaphors or hide between the lines!

I am in pain, mentally and emotionally. I am hurt on the inside. I have felt hurt for as long I can remember. But I put on a façade and tell everyone that I am okay. No! I am not! I am not okay! I never was, am, and I don’t know whether I ever will be. There is a commotion inside, and that never settles. The mind is restless. While things happen and people console that it is alright since it happens for a good reason, you try to calm that restlessness in the mind. It feels better to know that there is a greener side and that there will be a knock on the door called opportunity. While the mind doesn’t stay calm for long, another thing happens, and there are voices it is for the good. I calm the mind saying that it is just round the corner. While I am in these phases, I write it down. Because writing is my solace. And I end writing that painful post about the pain that the mind is in, that I am in, while I start to feel a bit relieve and feeling that peace approacing me, there is another thing that happens. And I repeat the whole process over and again, hoping that one day it will just end. And honestly, I am getting tired of trying to write about this everytime, differently every time. I have a whole book with pages filled with this and I wonder is this how it is going to be, for the rest of the life! Is this anyway how life should be? That metamorphical rock that I keep carrying just keeps getting heavier. At one point, I just might collapse and there is no coming back when it does!

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

Solitude

The world faded in vibrant shades of people, the commotion increasing with each cheer, a smile here, a hug there, a shout here, a fist bump there.  The crowd got a little more momentum when more people joined the celebration as the music blared in the background. The ground vibrated with the joy of people dancing in their highest spirits. The air was filled with the spirit of what the people shared with each other, the bond that was so unique, pure and selfless; Friendship and Love. There was just happiness floating all around, the warmth that radiated from the heart.

_______

He stood there amidst the crowd as the people swarmed all around him. The feeling seemed contagious as he too was transpired in the moment and felt part of that celebrating crowd, high in their spirits; happy and content. The stars glittered ever so bright over the dome of endless sky. He loved to see how people enjoyed, and celebrated life. The happy faces were a sight to watch, the feeling shared among them was worth a memory. He didn’t dance like they did, he didn’t have company like they did, he didn’t feel what they felt, but all he did was try to sink that feeling in, something that he never had the pleasure of.

The clouds slowly engulfed the bright specks in the sky as the crowd slowly faded away to their next celebration. As the music played its last beat, the only sound that reverberated was the sound of his breath in an empty field. Of all that had happend that night, he knew this, the feeling that the ground underneath had; empty, he knew it way too well; and the sound, the silence that spread across the vastness, he knew it like he craved for it. And as reality sink in, he walked back to his home, alone, to his solitude.

Quotefancy-2900646-3840x2160

 

; The Chaos Theory

The walls screamed in their silence. The thoughts floated in the confinement, however deep they dragged in a bottomless sea. It is going to be okay, a few too many voices drowned in the silent loud screams. But among all the chaos that surrounded the empty thoughts, a silent tear gave it away. The emotions bundled so deep down, just overflowed in the tiniest speck of water. Hope! A fascinating eulogy that like an ink blot on a paper, spread with the tiniest touch of it. An emancipation of a thousand dreams or perhaps a bittersweet lie, like sand slipping through the hand. Because it is going to be alright. That is how the world works. Perhaps it does, for some while the other dwell in world apart with masked faces and acceptable attires. Because, we all want to be normal by getting society’s approval by how happy we look and how well we present ourselves. And Amid all the melodrama of a chaotic life, there is a line, a faintest line that either makes or breaks people.

_____

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;

“I don’t understand why they did it?”
“They have a whole life in front of them. Then, why would they do that?”
“Don’t they think about their family?”
“What their family must be going through now?”
“It would so much painful for their loved ones, won’t it be?”
“Are they that stupid?”
“How coward can they be?”
“Tch, tch, tch”, they said feeling a little sad, for a moment though.

It’s hell. It’s a raging hell fire, a battle, a struggle to take that one step, every day. It is painful to breathe, more painful to be normal, because people demand to be normal, because being otherwise is very unnatural. And then you have to smile, smile away through (hiding) that pain, that huge burdening pain that you kept dragging behind you everywhere you went. It was perhaps the past that led to this burden, and why is it affecting the present, the future? A question that keeps haunting every waking moment. Perhaps, you finally decide to start everything afresh, everything will be different from now on, you said to yourself. You strive to make it different. You work on it, you try to give your best. But the heart is heavy with the weight, but you try to care less and fight through each string that pulls you down. Because you want to put it behind in the past and not let it affect the present and well, the future. You pretend as if everything is okay and normal and that there’s sunshine inside of you and a beautiful starry sky over your head.

But…

It was a beautiful sight. Those first rays of sunlight hitting your face, that warm embrace as it slowly rises to its glory of the morning. As the sunshine embraces you, you feel content, happy, from inside. You go to work, forgetting everything that has always pulled you down everyday, everything that stopped you from moving ahead, you move past that burden inside of you. You completely forget about everything as that cold drop of rain hits your skin. It was the first rain you felt in a very very long time. You relish every moment of it, wondering what you have missed all this while. You feel alive. It is an absolute bliss and you want to stay in this beautiful yet perfect symphony that life carefully threw at you, forever. You retire from your day under the starry skyline, as the stars twinkle in the glory of the night, a splendid sight, nonetheless, and you are sure you can tell endless stories under this dome of glittering diamonds. You finally sleep, relaxed and most importantly at peace. Sleeping never felt so relaxing.

You wake up all of a sudden as if the ground beneath you started shaking. You hope to see the beautiful sunshine from yesterday. You want to relive the previous day, each day! But, you don’t see it. There is just darkness, a familiar face you have been with for such a long long time. May be you woke up a little too early and hope that it is just a dream. But there is no sunshine whatsoever. You go to work hoping to see that glimmer of rain, that washed your past away, that washed your soul. You pray for it silently under your breath. But there isn’t any. And you retire to your home wondering to finally gaze into the endless stars and perhaps share your tiring day to the endless glittering friends far far away. But it is just dark in the sky. Not a single star. You don’t understand what is happening. You sleep, or at least try to. The whole day, the past just keeps flashing in front of you. You can’t sleep. You try to understand everything, but nothing makes sense. And in that moment when you thought you have left the past behind, comes haunting back. You try to shake it off, try your best to end that nightmare, wake up to that sunshine, dance under the rain, sing under the stars. You pray for it even though you have never been religious, but there is that familiar dark cloud over your head, that keeps following you, day and night.

You don’t understand why it keeps following you. You don’t understand why that one day it wasn’t there. Why was that day different? You don’t understand what is happening, because the past is a haunting reminder of the choices you made, which somehow decided your present and the future. You thought you could go past it, look past it, keep it locked up in the past and not look back again, ever, but it is you, your past, your memories. You want to escape this mess. You can’t listening to your horrid screams. You can’t deal with the fake smile everyday. You can’t stay bottled up all day long and write long essays on your feelings, everyday. You can’t find peace. Peace was a concept never in your mind. It has far gone and disappeared in the past. But then, how can you get past this? How can you be at peace? How can you just express? How can you finally really smile? How can you end all this mess once and for all?
The only way to end all this to end it all.

Quotefancy-2077288-3840x2160

 

P.S. : This post is inspired by my life, circumstances and #13ReasonsWhy. Inspired is a strong word. May be, come into picture.

Wake me up.

The sun kissed the soft corners of the room, as the birds chirped in their melody, lamenting the spirits of the sleepy mind to a fresh start. It was a beautiful morning, a little bright, but just the right kind of bright; a little warm, just enough to make the skin feel alive; a little soft, for the eyes to let them enjoy the beauty in it’s full glory. It was like any other morning, but this was a little special one.

I’m a victim of my mistakes. Or may be it’s just me.

If you want something from heart, the whole universe conspires in helping you achieve it“, they said. How beautiful is this message? How blindly he felt it was real, true? How blindly he wished and wished and wished for something to happen? Oh wait, he heard whispers going around. “Wishing doesn’t help. You have to make an effort. You have to try”. He did try. A couple too many times. Because again, there they were saying some stupid inspiration stuff again,”Try and try and you will succeed.“. They make all of these seem so easy, make it like a walk in the park. And well what do you know, he did try. He really did. But may be, may be it wasn’t enough. May be his will power was weak. Or may be perhaps, he was a little too scared. Or perhaps, deep down may be he didn’t wish it wholly from heart. But they never stopped, never stopped saying mind boggling stupid inspirational shit, again. So, resorting to what they do best, they said, “God helps one who helps themselves“. That makes sense, doesn’t it? God created us. And in a matter of speaking he is partly responsible for us. Hence, after exhausting all other viable options, he turned to God. Oh the almighty creator. Whom else could I turn to?  God fulfills your wishes, another idiot blurted out quoting some lines from a story book. And the irony is that people believed him and the story book. They called him the prophet and the book the holy book. If great many people believed, then it had to be true. How can so many people be wrong? How can so many people be blind? He didn’t realize to ask one question : How can so many people have their trust in someone whom they haven’t even met, while they demand proof for every other thing starting from their own identity. They would call you an impostor if you didn’t have an ID on you.

But in all retrospect, he believed in that story book, may be it was because of the years of people constantly telling over and over again about the stories and quoting the lines from the book in their prayers.. That’s why he knelt down and prayed. He even cried and prayed a little more. He promised to sacrifice something that was very close to him, like the politicians have always promised us. Yes, he broke the promise, a million times over. And at every hurdle he faced, he put up the same promises for the things he wanted.

Wake me up, or may be don’t.

Perhaps, he was asking too many things. May be God keeps a track of the wishes to be fulfilled per person and after the expiration of the limit, there’s nothing he could do, even if you sacrificed a human or the blood of the virgin, which would again have to be him. God doesn’t two shits about that. Anyhow, he calmed himself down and prayed for just one thing. He prayed for one thing over and over and over. He was getting furious at God for ignoring his concerns. This was a serious issue. Why isn’t God paying any attention? Why isn’t God helping him in any way? The questions that haunted him all day and night.

So, he tried again the other night, like the last couple nights. He kept trying. And every time he fell short. He tried great many different things. But, he fell gravely short. Because every time he tried, he woke the other day. He saw another sunrise where the sun kisses the soft corners of the room, where the birds chirp in their melody, lamenting the spirits of the sleepy mind to a fresh start, where it seems to be a beautiful morning, a little bright, just the right kind of bright; a little warm, just enough to make the skin feel alive; a little soft that lets to enjoy the beauty in it’s full glory. It was like any other morning, another beautiful morning, that didn’t look beautiful. Because, he was still alive.

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Help me help.

There is this sinking feeling, that drowns us into suffocation where we strive to breathe, that engulfs me into this embrace, a lot like darkness. Yes, darkness, my old friend. No matter what we do, how much we try to fight, we feel tied down, held down. But, but there is light, there always is. We see it at the end of the tunnel, a vibrant collision of bright and shining. We want to reach for it. We want to get out of this darkness, this suffocation, this struggle for life, this fear. And we see this light, so close yet so far, slowly diminishing, slowly fading. But we are drowning, sinking in this quicksand that pulls us down into this bottomless pit, struggling with all our might, yet feeling completely helpless, useless.

I am angry because I am helpless.
– Ξniɢma

I just read the other day another rape incident, not a day after that mass molestation. This is shocking. This is beyond normal. This is going out of control. And I am agitated. My mind is not in one piece. I was at work and I was trying to focus on my work as I wanted some things taken care of. I got distracted with the news that I came across as I scrolled the Facebook timeline. I tried to avoid it, like I have avoided all my problems, like every important thing that mattered I have avoided, I wanted to be that dumb guy who doesn’t understand what is going on when the whole group are laughing and discussing about something. I tried to be that asshole who would just scroll down without flinching an eye and passing a comment “Nothing new“. I tried my best to be ignorant like I had been ignoring the calls from my relatives. But I was drawn to it. Why? I had to know. Why was this pulling me towards it? I didn’t even go out to catch Pokémons while the whole world rejoiced on each Pokemon they collected. I was not drawn to the girl on whom I had crush on for as long as I can remember when she sent a text. What the hell was it, then? I did what I usually don’t know but do all the time – Psychoanalysis!

Was it the pain? Was it the suffering? Was it the inhumanity? What was it?  I am human after all. I too have a few weakness. I t was then I realized that I was drawn to the helplessness. I was drawn to them all – the pain, the suffering.

As I sit somewhat-comfortably in my almost-perfectly cushioned bed after have adjusted the pillows to my favor to rest my back and try to express what I am feeling, I may be telling I am angry, agitated, pissed, blood boiling and everything hyper, but in the end what am I doing? What am I contributing to the cause? How can this little-angry write up about my anger change something, someone?

It agitated me quite a bit to even think about it. We can debate all we want about the problems we have , the things we can do , the things we should do, go on candle light marches in remembrance, stage a protest outside some government institute, break a few windows, burn a few buses, or may be not and all this while we think we are doing a good thing, trying our part in bringing about the change that we so badly need. Or even better we write about the underlying problem, the cause, the reason and while we are laying out the consequences and what we should do, what others should do, what the government we  elected must do. We would go on and write about the problems of the country, the deranged people shouting in CAPITAL LETTERS for the emphasis and also because we are agitated and angry and pissed and outraged. We hope that the letters we write, the articles we publish and the stories we scribble with the carefully structured sentences and curbing the Fuck curse words will reach the people and somehow it will bring a change, somehow it will give them a question to ponder over their actions, somehow that story just might change the people.

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But we are human. No, let me rephrase. We are assholes. We follow blind leaders and illiterate psychopaths. Have you ever wondered that IAS exams that we write are so tough to crack and you know what happens to the people who pass them? They work for some 5th standard fail politician. Even with all the aspirations to bring about the change on a small scale is just sidetracked. How are the politicians so illiterate. You want growth. Elect people who can take the challenge. Not someone who are looking to control and oppress. Oh, yes the speeches are always great because they have been drafted with a degree, a MBA one perhaps.

The underlying issue stays the same. We hope that people would change, the concerned officials will take control and bring drastic reforms in. But let’s get one thing clear, there are still a few assholes out there who can’t be changed no matter what you do. Don’t blame it on illiteracy. Everyone learns, in some way or the other. Just that one are hard core assholes who refuse to learn, who refuse to change their way. I don’t understand their stubbornness. They could use this stubbornness to do something good. And the problem still continues.

I am not doing a great thing here by voicing out my thoughts. And that’s what bothers me the most. I am not doing anything. I want to do something to change all this and not give people a chance to even talk about these incidents. But, I am helpless, utterly helpless.

Can you help me to help?
Please?
 

__

Ξniɢma

The picture quotes are borrowed from Quotefancy

Twenty Seventeen!

 

A silent breeze swept past me, like a silent shadow in the night. A calm hush of the noise like a distant murmur sunk in the shadows behind me. The muted world stood in silence in the warm embrace of the night, comforting yet missing something. An unspeakable void that kept haunting the silent corners of the mind. I stared at the sky above me to immerse myself in the effervescence of the dark night. Somehow, this darkness never felt so dark. It was my comfort, my solace to the agitation, my safe harbour. I continued staring at the sky above. Perhaps, I was looking for a sign, that was long-lost on me. Or perhaps I just wanted to embrace this moment.

Fireworks. The figments of small and brighter lights filled the sky. The man-made stars that danced with symphony in their agility. Shining in their ever so bright clamour; so close and ever so beautiful. The celebration of sorts in the sky, mesmerizing the world below and the universe beyond. Ah, what a sight it was. This moment was too perfect to be true. I curbed my urge to pinch myself and wake me from my slumber, if at all it was. I gradually sunk in the moment, reminiscing the dreams of yesteryear, the present and hopes as I stared and communicated with the sky above in silence. The million stars that have been there for me in thick and thin, in happiness and sadness, when no one else was. As I embraced my inner inhibitions and the warmth of the hopes, I could hear cheer, as a distant noise reverberating so close to me.

Excitement. The cheer slowly started to build up and resonated in the whole atmosphere. There were people everywhereand I had been at the middle of this crowd. But somehow, even though I was there at the center of thousands of people, there was a moment, a moment when everything around blurred, the people, their chatter, their cheer, the noise, everything was a distane echo and I was just alone for miles away. I was romancing the air, filled with my desires and hope, embracing the inhibitions; and was at peace staring at the multitude of stars that spread across the horizon slowly getting draped in fireworks. But this crowd, this humongous crowd that cheered so loud that I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts.

I woke up slowly from my slumber to see the happy faces, smiling, staring at the sky above, a little like I was, perhaps contemplating the year the passed by and making new dreams and hope as they kissed their loved ones. I stood in muted silence as the  crowd sunk into celebrations, the onset of yet another glorious year, with renowned hopes and determination. All soulful people walked around with happiness radiating from them, not just that usual happiness, but the sort that comes from the heart, that’s just too serene to watch.

I stood there amidst all the chaos, contemplating the happy crowd as they disappeared into the background. That’s when I caught a glimpse of my own reflection, in its absolute contrast. As reality slowly sunk in, the shattered dreams echoed in the reminiscence of the mind, the mind went wary and the heart heavier. Everything blurred again, and suddenly there I was, alone, sinking in the ocean, trying to breathe, for one last time.

____

Happy New Year.
I hope you have a great year ahead and all your dreams be fulfilled.

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____

P.S. I am sorry, but someone said I was too negative, I was too pessimistic. I claimed myslf to be pessimistic. And no, I am not proving them right. I am just being myself.

Image Courtesy : Quote Fancy

Realization.

You time is my memory.
_____

What is it called which hurts the most? What is that simple thing that makes you realize your gravest mistake? Why is it that, it being just in front of our eyes we want to ignore? There are a lot of questions that whisper silently yet screaming in the head. Pain ah, man’s ultimate solitude. A fortress that we build in the name of pain and its outcome. Without pain, there is no gain. Someone said it and that humble someone is probably right. But how does it fall into place? How does it know when to fall in place? Time, a morbid concept of reality, tricky yet precious, at the same time.

Let me start by first apologizing to the people who apparently think that I am not good enough for being a friend. For the past 24 odd years, I never had the liberty of having a friend, let alone a best friend. There might be a reason to it, but it doesn’t need explaining. At the end of the day, I am still the same person I was a day ago, or a decade ago. I may have grown up or old but I have done with only me, I alone. People are fascinating beings. When I have spent a major chunk of my life being in the company of myself, there comes a time when one realizes to look around and most importantly look at the people around. It is even more moving when some of these people actually look back at you and spend some of their time with you. Time, that precious chunk of one’s life that once spent could never be taken back or changed or bargained for. Don’t you think it is precious? I do.

I had the luxury of meeting some of the amazing people here on blogosphere. I agree that I am not one of the most charming people who has a way with words, or a witty one, or as a matter of fact not even normal. I am just a plain old boring soul. Having said that I have come across some of the people who are just too amazing. I know that becoming a friend needs to meet certain criteria, which I was hoping to meet over the course of time. So, it began. The conversations. Be it comments, emails or WhatsApp chat, I was aiming to meet their checklist, having already checked my only point in my checklist which read as “Time“. If they could spare some of their time for me, that in itself is such a big thing. But, I made a mistake of assuming.

I have traveled places all my childhood, not by choice but by compulsion. This should have been an added bonus, but this somehow shut be out. It is always not easy to adjust to the new environment, new people, their habits, their way of expressing. I have seen it all and have slowly adapted to each one. During all this, this coping and matching their tempo, the level of understanding, something in me snapped which made sure that I was uber cautious of the people around me, about what to say and what not to say. This dilemma slowly set to a conclusion that it is better not to speak than say something and make a fool of myself. This became quite difficult for people to adjust to me, and I to them. Eventually, I became my own company and the friendship days became just a namesake day to wish people whom I apparently knew also called as classmates, and vice versa.

Recently, I had met some new people – at work and online here through blogs. All of them are way too amazing people. Then came the first Sunday of August, which we all know what it is. So, I waited to check if anyone considered me in their list, whether I was able to cross off their check

.boxes. It was at the end of the day that I realized that I still have a long way to go. But, before this I did something. As I have already mentioned that my criteria has just one checkbox and it’s checked for most people. So, I made a post for them. It’s not one of those heart warming posts that you might think, but it is something I like to cherish by mentioning the few people who have been a part of my journey through blogging. I spent the whole night drafting and redrafting and finally rambling something. It is not a great post, but it wasn’t all that bad either. I finally posted it and waited.

The whole of Friendship Day I was on a lookout for people I may know or might have heard of me, or probably might remember me, which was rare, but hope is a pitiful thing, isn’t it? After a whole day of contemplation and exasperation, I have finally manned up a bit and decided to invade their “friend-time”, so I sent out messages to people from my office and emails to the people I have been in contact with. And boy, was I surprised to see the responses.

  1. Who said I was your friend?
    A common courtesy of thank you would have sufficed. I didn’t ask for much. I was expecting anything more either. A simple “Thank you. Same to you too” could have just made my day. But well.
  2. The courteous friend :
    Thank you to you too.Courteous
  3. Validation :
    I guess I needed to be validated as well.Validation
  4. I don’t, really!
    So, I told this generous person to kindly read the blog post in which I have mentioned them, but who really cares anyway.

Probably, I got what I deserved. My sincere apologies for jumping into conclusions at the first sight of conversation. Hopefully, I will be more careful.

Leave me alone.

I’m lost in the past, drowning in the memories. It’s dim. It’s stale. It’s a flickering light of yesterday, haunting, a constant reminder. It’s dark. It’s a freakin’ nightmare.

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The night fell into the silent abyss. The damp atmosphere hung in the air, that cold wind of the onset of winter blew. He settled at the end of the bar, contemplating, lost and deserted. His eyes were a million miles away, yet they spoke a story, sunk in the evening aroma of slow music and distant chatter. A thousabd thoughts exploded in his mind, relinquishing the past. the pupils dilated as the warmth of the drink slid past the burning throat. He never drank before. He didn’t realize he was drinking. He was too lost to care. His eyes fixated at the emptiness, still contemplating. Another sip. The past still resided at the peripheral. Another sip. The glass was empty. His ears caught a sweet voice, singing in the distant. He woke up from the past.

He was holding a glass, empty, a reminder of the past that was just forgotten. He eased his grip and let it free. “Leave me alone”, a voice shouted in his mind. The voice had been shouting to the pain that haunted. He got used to it like a lullaby, a painful one. Yet, it made its presence felt every day, every moment. The song became louder. It had been louder all along and he felt it’s presence with the words that surrounded the ambience.
…Let me heal the scars of yesterday,

The scars that have dug so deep,

Let me burn away the pain,

For I’m the phoenix rising from the ashes…”

He felt it making its way through him, digging the skin and reaching for the heart. The constant voice that haunted faded in the melody. Before he knew, he was sipping again and it went smooth this time. He saw her among the crowd under the limelight, staring at him from the distance, staring at him naked, staring at his naked soul, the eyes piercing the very fragments of pain, the past he had hid so well, she saw it all, every detail. He felt that pain drain away, delicately like the touch of the sun to the sea beyond the horizon. But then, the glass slipped from his hand, smashed against the floor as he was left vulnerable with the thousand pieces it broke into. The lights dimmed, the song ended and she was gone. He stood up, in search, but in vain.

“Leave me alone”, his mind shouted again to the voices that haunted again.