City of Silent Screams

Eighteen miserable months of rancorous disputes later,
I finally returned to the city I called home.

The city where hope slips like fog between fingers and the moon has a Cheshire grin. The city where nightmares blossom like hyacinths in spring.

The city where she resides.

I’ve heard, in her eyes, countless constellation ignites, while that winged seraph plays her lyre’s strings.
I have heard, she en-clasps dysfunctional catastrophes in her wings, as her voice stretches out in the horizon, calming the raging waters of the ocean.

I am broken but I am blessed.
Some ruins hold treasures far priceless than the rest.

I will pour my heart, bare my soul,

To satisfy her abstract empathetic being and everything which I once considered my own.

Perhaps, she will extirpate my dreadful delusions,
Sing a lullaby to soothe my irate emotions.

I hope to meet her tonight, and with every counting breath, surrender something.
Perhaps, that’s why I’ve come back to this city,
the city that has her, the city where silence scream.

-S

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.

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

 

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.

Dear You,

I am sorry.

I know it’s way too late but you know as they say, better late than never.

You seem to be doing well. Guess that’s why I finally had the courage to write this.

I am sorry for how things turned out. I tried. Believe me, I tried my level best to make you understand that I wasn’t worth it. All those efforts and care, it was all a waste on me.

I did love you. Maybe, not as much as I loved him. But, yes. I did love you.

And that’s why I wanted you to have the best of the best. I did not want you to be stuck with someone like me.

Because that’s what you do to the people you love, right? You want the best for them, even if that means you couldn’t be with them.

Maybe the way I did my work was wrong. But, you knew me so well in those few days that it scared me. Scared my shitless that what if you lose yourself just the way I did because of love.

I may have lost that part of myself but I couldn’t let you lose it.

They say hatred is easier than love. If I could only agree, considering the time I had to put up the pretence of being a bitch.

You wouldn’t hate me. And I couldn’t let you love me.

What other option did I have other than making you hate me to the point where you won’t consider me worth an option?

And look, my effort paid off.

And now, you will be free.

Free to choose and be with someone who deserves better. Someone who can give you so much more than I can ever do. Someone who will give you the world.

Someone, not me.

Have a good life, dude.

You deserve the best.

Love,

S.

-Excerpt from “Letters To The Ones Who Matter”

In The Silence Of Solitude

“Before you can be with others, first learn to be alone.” – Jennifer Stitt.

Something is kind of quiet today.

Caught in the melee of life, I’d left everything behind and started a new life- a life with a hope of no chaos. My flaky fingers hold my hope like the sacrosanct dusk.

My secret lies splattered, painted upon the walls of frozen memory. I have tasted the sunshine, the storm and the eclipse.

My demons are shadow serpents with a Cheshire grin tainiting the disillusioned truth in the ashes of heartbreak, betrayal and perplexing self doubts.

All i seek is peace. In silence or solitude, I don’t care anymore.

I can hear my cold breath disappearing like the cold drizzle.

Its so easy to get addicted.

Maybe thats where I’ll find peace.

In the silence of solitude.

-A lost soul in search Solitude.

S.

SHE

She’s different.

This is the first thing that is going to pop into your mind the moment you land your eyes on her. Her demeanour and her aura is enough to justify this first observation of yours. You won’t ever be uninspired or bored with her. She’d be that fresh breath of unpredictable mischief. She won’t ever take your shit and you can bet on it that you’ll be a changed man because of her.

She comes across as a paradoxical mix of outgoing but introvert, very social but seldom out, classy with the right amount of sass. But then, when you’re so used to not needing anyone, pretence stays away from you. This makes relationships a constant struggle for her. She’ll connect with many making them feel comfortable with her, but it will take her a while to reach that comfort.

This might frustrate you. There will be so many layers to peel, so many walls to break and just when you’d think you’re getting somewhere, you will find yourself back to square one. These times, have patience. Something happened that made her independent. Someone she needed left before she was done needing them. But these won’t spill out easily. She is extremely careful and uncomfortable with her emotions on display. Her emotion and pain are hers to deal with and that is what she is used to.

She will try to convince herself that she doesn’t need you or worse, she will try to surpass her feelings and push you away. Her primal instincts will be to compose herself and be apathetic about the situation. She knows exactly who she is and what she wants and her independent spirit gives her the liberty to follow her heart and she loves this part of her identity. She may come across as strong, maybe too strong for you at the beginning. Don’t let this fool you. This is her armour, the walls she took years to build to protect herself.

Falling for the girl who is used to not needing anyone will be a challenge. She will be enigmatic, she will oppose your views at every step, she will fight you and she will always want things to go her way at her pace. She is strong, but she is also scared- scared to love, scared of depending on and needing someone and most of all, scared of what might happen if you leave.

Because at the core, she is just a girl who has more love and layers than she knows what to do with.

S.

To the New Girl,

Remember this,
He might not come out as the most easiest person to interact with. He might seem shy, or worse, a snob. But have patience, and when you pass through those layers of outwardly appearances, you’d find a person to whom you’d want to hang on even in the darkest of times and in the wildest of storms.

He is very impatient and sometimes, his temper gets the best of him. Don’t back down and don’t be scared. He only lashes out on those whom he loves the most.

He is a pizza addict. He can survive on pizza for days at end. Fancy restaurants never fascinated him. He’d rather cuddle with you on his sofa watching reruns of his favourite show or worse, Disney movies. He is a sucker for those.

He finds his passion in football, so much so, that he might come late or even miss a date. Understand his passion and support it, by being his number 1 fan. He’d love that.

He is horrible in planning. Anything. So that will be your responsibility. He is also terrible with dates, so expect a lot of mixed up confusions. Don’t get angry if he forgets your birthday. He’d do anything to make it up to you.

He is an introvert. Surrendering his feelings to someone is an alien concept for him. So when he takes you to that dark part of his life, just be there for him and hold him tight. 

He enjoys and appreciates simple things in life. You don’t have to overdo yourself to make him happy.

Our story never got a chance. Our story ended as you started writing yours. But, then, I guess that’s how it was supposed to be. Not everything is meant to be beautiful and long lasting. Not everything is meant to work out. The love I have for him will always be there in some corner of my heart. He was, after all, my first love, as I was his.

But, you, my dear, is going to be his last.

So don’t worry and don’t compare. Don’t get insecure and never, ever hold back. Give him the world because he only deserves the best and every ounce of your love. And so do you.

I hope you get to live your fairytale with him.

Best regards,

S.

4 A.M Blues

In the hours that you slept, I laid awake, my mind waging a war within itself. Whiskey in hand, the edges of reality get blurred. Your loss is wrapped around me like a vice, suffocating me, choking me. It’s not the goodbye that hurts, I guess. It’s the flashback that follows.

I dream of you. Us. The fevered and recycled demons that haunt me. I’m scattered, broken. Flicking through the channels, I seek my own fear in cinematic nightmares. I yell my innocence and silence echoes through these empty walls. Fear made me parade naked through the rush hour traffic, an amusing sight for those countless, unforgiving eyes.

I’ve looked at you in a million ways and I’ve loved you in all of them. When you kissed me, I felt forelsket. Maybe, I was that naive girl, wearing rose-coloured glasses and maybe your absence gave me a reality check. And even though I’m glad I walked away, a part of me will always be waiting for you.
S.