Wish upon a star

There were parts of her that were ugly, jagged ends like rocks on the cliffs where waters hit with unforeseen forces and so many dead, broken things accumulated, desolated wilderness expanding into streches of nothing, which will have you holding on to the tips of your sanity by your own bloodied fingertips.

Then there were places of undefined refinery and repose, like the quiet stream with its soft, gurgling waters and the smell of earth after rain, something that soothes your soul and brings you peace and fills you with all the colours in the rainbow.

She was so strange and so wonderful, an amalgam of so, so many universes with such profound calmness and chaos that it was difficult to imagine how it could exist at one time and in one person, all at once.

I loved her for that, for being the sunshine and the thunder, for being the rainbow and the monsoon cloud, for being timid and fiercely independent, for being such an impossibility, for being so beautiful, complicated, enigmatic and so many other things. And knowing that I could never be done knowing her fully, knowing all her parts, chapters and layers.

I wish I could tell her how much I loved her and how much I wanted to call her mine, how much I wanted to shield her from the world and keep her in our haven.

Maybe, if I had wished upon a star, I’d have kept her as mine. Forever.

S.

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Being A Human

I realized today that I am horrible at letting go. People, memories…you name it. I suck at it!

And the worst part, I don’t show it. That stoicism, that forbearance, that phlegm will be on my face; that facade of indifference; that aloof mask of non-existent emotions; it’s all there, but the insides would be like shredded cheese you put on your fancy salad.

Life is what happens while you’re busy making plans. -John Lennon

I believe it’s an art. The art which portrays you as an incredible soul with a tsunami of emotions within, just crashing on to the waves of life, sometimes clueless as to where it would take you.

But you hold on.

And most importantly, you smile through it, all through that tsunami as the person or the thing just steers away, far from you.

And I believe, that’s exactly what makes you a human, that’s what makes you unique, makes you worth holding on to.

And I guess at the end of the day, that’s enough.

Being a human is enough.

S.

Chasing Fireflies

It’s so curious: One can resist tears and behave very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind the window or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed or a letter slips from a drawer…and everything collapses.

Would you tell me the same thing everyone tells me, darling? Those insubstantial words of sympathy? All those ‘It is okay-s’, ‘This too shall pass’ and ‘I am here for you-s’?

Well, it will pass. It will pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass. Or, that is what I keep convincing myself. Because, I don’t know how to bring myself to terms with the fact that you have left. Like, really, really left.

I guess this is what people call about being in a void.

No emotions. It’s all dark. It’s all hollow. Only the silence of my despair echoes through this emptiness. I guess this is the place when you are wallowing and no tears come out, when you are yelling and no voice comes out, when you want to confide into someone about that pain at the back of your throat and no voice comes out. When every breath is labored, when every word is fabricated, when all you crave is solitude and all you can manage to say is ‘I’m okay’.

I don’t think time can ever heal this wound. Because this, this feeling is for forever; it won’t go, it won’t heal; it will become a part of me and stay with me always, just like my love for you, wherever you are. Because the memories of our friendship and love will play like a mix tape every time I go out to get a cup of masala chai, or the section of Alistair MacLean in the Oxford bookstore, or to Flurrys for baked cheesecakes.

But this grief will hold me down, like an anchor because I will remember you like you were and like you came to my life; a raging tornado in the stagnant dunes, a gush of wind in the humid sorrow and a firefly in the dark nights.

I had, do and will always love you.

Till infinity and beyond.

Love, S.

2017

By far, the most eventful year in my life.

To summarize, this year have shown me the fair share of happiness and sadness, love and despair, moving on and holding up and many many more things.

To completing a degree, moving to a new city, meeting new people, losing two most cherished people in my life, adjusting with a different cuisine and weather, being a little more independent, learning to finally say no and trying to be a little more empathetic, this year had taught me lessons for a lifetime.

This year had been tough. I had never imagined what leaving home would be like. From bouts of homesickness to nights of relentless crying, this year taught me how to survive alone in a new place. It taught me that though being empathetic is good, always trying to find the positive side of a person you meet shouldn’t always be done. Sometimes saying no might make you a bitch to that person but in the long run, you’re helping yourself. That if stuffs don’t work out for you today, its all right. You will have enough time to work your shit out. That if you feel you’re lagging in certain aspects of life as compared to others, its okay. It will happen when it is meant to happen. That everything nice and sweet isn’t always so nice and sweet. That there is always an other side and we should be prepared to face what that other side holds. That you’re complete, at peace and happy and that matters above anything and anyone in life. That endings can be good too. That solitude isn’t so bad. That choosing your happiness over anyone or anything else isn’t wrong.

So here’s to looking forward to year of new beginnings and new priorities. Focusing on my dreams and my aspirations, on stuffs that matter and to believe that imperfection is okay. That I am whole and that is all that matters.

You can’t ever reach perfection, but you can believe in an asymptote towards which you are ceaselessly striving.

-When Breathe Becomes Air, Paul Kalanithi

 

Where Did We Go Wrong?

This is one of those questions which I ask very often.

No, I don’t mean this in aspects of economy, academics, finance etc. I ask this with respect to compassion and basic humanity.

Where did those qualities go?

Simple love and care for those around us…our neighbours and our immediate family. Where did that humanity go?

Is it money?

If not, then what?

It hits me hard to imagine that people could be so selfish, so fucked up that they cannot extend the hand of help to their own family, that they donot possess the least care for their kin, that they can go to any extend for their profit and their rotten motives.

Where is karma now?

Why does it bites the asses of only those who work selflessly for others!?

Why doesn’t it pay to those who have wronged?

Why do they roam free while the ones who had served and cared suffer in silence?

Why?

What is this strange equation of the world?

Guess, these questions along with the first one will always remain unanswered to me.

-S.

I wish…

I wish this turned out differently.

I wish you could stay longer.

I wish I could get the chance of drowning myself in your hazel eyes every time we met.

I wish you could hold me a little more.

I wish you had looked back at least once when you left me standing under that streetlight.

I wish we had a chance.

Because you, my darling, you were something else.

I had the notion that I could only fall for someone who would ignite my soul, who would turn my love into a fiery passion burning the lust with mere touch, who would make me forget the world with his kiss, who would create butterflies in me with his stare.

Oh, how wrong was I.

Because as much perfect as you were, that much flawed I was.

You made realise what I wanted.

Peace.

And I found it.

In you.

In us.

In your tight embrace and your lovely voice. In the little things you did. In the way you looked at me which spoke volumes. In that shake of head whenever I said something stupid. In that small grin when you got excited about my ideas.

You were silence and I filled that with my blabber. If only I knew, you were slowly creeping into the void I had.

I miss you.

But mostly, I miss us.

How wrong is it that we can’t hold on to things that matter forever. How good things, inevitably have to end. How something nice and beautiful doesn’t last longer.

I wouldn’t call what we had as Love. It was something more. Something which cannot be explained. Something which I cannot have with anyone.

Oh, how I wish I could get it back. How I wish I could get us back.

Love,

S.

-exerpt from “Letters to the ones who matter.”

Masquerade

They will promise you butterflies blossoming in your soul; sugarcoated words that will keep you awake till 4 in the mornings; they will promise you the taste of sheer pleasure of their exorbitant self; they will lure you into the intoxicating maze of their minds; they will turn chaos into music and sounds into melodies; they will promise you the reality of forever everytime you inhale their addictive scents; they will build kingdoms of fairytales, bringing heaven on earth, until hell would seem more like a fictious nightmare.

They won’t tell you of the rotting wounds of your heart after it all ends; they won’t tell you of the cracked illusions that won’t let you sleep till those hours; they won’t tell you of the struggle you’ll have to endure alone when you’ll try to forget the name you can’t even remember; they won’t tell you of the burning sun that will blind your eyes in a state of permanent insomnia; they won’t tell you of the laughs that will fade into silence and smiles that will turn into tear stained cheeks; they won’t tell you the kingdom is built in the middle of hurricane, waiting to destroy every lingering hope and future. They won’t tell you that the tainted image of the heavenly love is just waiting to burn you.