It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Things were not going the way I planned and I wasn’t in a state to come up with words. The past two years have been the worst for me in every way possible, loads of inner turmoil that I couldn’t even process what was going on.
I became involved with the worst set of friends (well I don’t call them that anymore), focusing on unimportant things. Most importantly I failed to work on myself. It also made me reflect on how much I have to improve as a person. I would give anything to erase my high school years.
I’m in a better state now, I hope I don’t let myself down this time. I have always been the kind to let things go, never reach the depth of the simplest of things. Whenever I feel low, I just let the disfigured emotions wash over me like the welcoming cascades of shower. It has somehow helped me go through the hardest of times.
Now that I am recovering, I hope to be a better person. I know everything will eventually slip away, the fabric of my world will get bigger, but these painful memories will remain embedded, but also give the much needed boost which I wish got earlier.
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Continue reading “time flies”
I smell liquor.
off your mouth in a grey evening
standing close in a crisp white T-shirt,
staring into my eyes
hazel to teal.
I hear Nina Simone
from your playlist.
Your heated whisper “Because you’re mine.”
And you pull me into
those comforting arms of yours,
my only place to abide by.
I see temptation and need.
Your hoarse voice
echoing the lifeless walls of my room
“I need you so.”
I am on my knees now.
Your honesty disarms me,
your touch makes me reel like
I am a spiritual beast
in search of piety.
I sense fear
In your jagged breathing
with your head on my chest,
your arms encircling my waist.
My unsteady heartbeat not mirroring yours,
you look at me.
Searching for disclosure
my masked emotions deceiving you.
You take me at your pace.
Slowly, savouring every bit.
I will worship you
For you showed me the depth of walls of passion,
for you beguile me
and I let go
daring to fly, daring to be Icarus again.
And despite me being torn up,you have a wealth of love to give.
You didn’t run.
You chose to lay your world at my feet.
I will tell you tales.
of maple scented whiskey,
of sensual mornings,
of your legs braided in mine.//
I will tell you tales.
of scandalous affairs,
of queer humans,
of my body feasted by you in our dens.//
I will tell you tales.
of numerous Beadon Streets we walked,
of sidewalks we laid our feet on,
of barricades we tumbled upon.
I will tell you tales.
of your soggy lips,
pastel blue with a shade of warm red,
which smell of lilac coloured evenings.
Here I am now,
You snuggling up to my chest,
Both of us draped in prism shades.//
The Pride month is drawing closer yet the situation here, in India doesn’t seem to change.
Don’t you want to see rainbow flags draped over their bodies, marching and singing?
Or do you want to keep them out of the streets? Saying they don’t belong here? Thinking they are filthy creatures in our so polished society?
They live within us. They are humans. What grave mistake have they committed by being born?
Shout out against gender inequalities and biasness.
Picture © Anna Dart
I am staring at the fabric of my life and dread begins to find its way toward me.
I am blanketed by the moons of Jupiter and the vicious emerald blood of my planet flowing through my veins.
I am watching my epitaph. It stands still, but it is coated with films of betrayal and false promises which reads “Staying happy in her own skin.”
My stomach churns. My ribs ache with pain. My head hurts with all the noises.
Fear is something which only you can control it and know it like it fits you like a glove. Only you can master it. You are all you have. Bear this in mind. The sole solution to all your problems is your fear. I have kept it away from me as I loathed it like rotting meat. When you merge it with patience, what you get is a secret, potent weapon.
I stand naked right beside my epitaph. Worms manifest my body. They are making their way toward my vagina and I stand immobile. I am choking on my own.
My carcass is a maze. What I have acquired now is the possession and power to pursue and see through it. This time the earth beneath me stands firm. Patience has never been kind to me. What I harbour is new to me. But I can’t figure as to how it will end. My emerald blood boils red. My fear rises.
A strong wind takes me by surprise. My moons no longer help me. They wither away with the first gust of the gruesome wind. All I have is me. A tired, old rag. I dance along with the incoming gusts. I sway to the wonderful rhythm. I create my own demon and unleash it. Together. Naked. We conquer the vulnerable.
The weight of the world is no longer on my shoulders.
Now I know that fear is inconsequential.
Now I know what I am worthy of.
Now I know where patience can lead me.
As you can already figure out from the title, I have finished reading To Kill A Mockingbird and I just can’t get over Boo Radley and Atticus Finch. Harper Lee is purity. Its perhaps one of the best books if all time and please give it a read if you haven’t, already.
Holidays are finally here and school has ended for now. I can’t believe the year is coming to an end, though. But honestly, this year has been the worst so far.
Christmas is around the corner. Park Street will light up again and it wll look like a thousand bucks worthy as usual. Everyone spending time with their families, fairs, circuses and of course fairy lights. I can’t point out any reason as to why I don’t like December. This month brings everyone together (pretty much) and festivity is always in the air.
As it is vacation time, I plan to read Catcher In The Rye and Kafka On The Shore. These two little books were waiting patiently to be read and now I have the time to do so. These two final weeks of my December will consist of studying, competing God awful projects, and of course weekly tests. I plan to get through these in the utmost cheerful way possible. Because carpe diem, friend.
I hope 2017 won’t let me down or is it the other way around ? I will take my leave now.
Enjoy the 25th of December. Do whatever you feel like doing. Because its not everyday that you get a 24-hour long break. Am I right?
Now that he is gone, you don’t look forward to the rays of warmth peeking from your window. You plan to put your phone on divert mode and pull the duvet over your head and get lost in the longing emptiness. But your limbs will you and you get up from your now ragged mattress and the ground beneath somehow supports you to the dining space. You are both angry and sad at yourself.
Was there anything less? Maybe he was tired of my whiny talks every night. What was it that made this happen?
Even as you mourn your loss, you are happy that he died before you did. You can still wake up knowing that he won’t be there beside you, curled up like a rose devoid of thorns. That you have to order for one every time you decide to have coffee. You are happy that he died before you because as you walk through the streets with your arms folded, you will be reminded of the walks every evening. He will be there to ensure that you don’t trip and fall.
Even though he is gone he will always be there to heal you. You will dig deep into those arguments and the moments and would want to know every fibre of what he meant.
Men are literal creatures. They usually mean what they say. Maybe I wasn’t perfect enough for him, then. Was there nothing that I could’ve done? Just to undo this? This pain hugging my chest?
As the hands of the clock tick by swiftly, he will heal you. He will make you remember what you meant to him and how much compatible you were with him. He will show you what you are still capable of. Still worthy of.
Even though he is gone, he will see through you and nurture the hope. He will heal you and see to it whether you dare to dream again. Whether you would be willing to try and start afresh. With time he will teach how to how growing up means “turning your pain into a rose that is easy for someone to hold”. With time, he will teach how healing isn’t just reciprocation.
Picture © Agastopia
Count on yourself to be happy. Always. You deserve to be because what you are today is because of your past. You are standing erect today because of the choices you made.
Tell me honestly. Would you be still standing here if you have not fallen and locked up yourself in a crate? All if these have led you here. You have made an effort to try and take the paths not taken. But yes, the consequences were inferior. You will never get past that. Isn’t it natural for hundreds of paths to be altered?
You deserve to be happy because you know there’s no point in hiding. You isolate yourself and remain in your own bubble, not wanting to be pricked. You deserve the power within you which you failed to recognize for the past years. You deserve to be happy because you have fought for long with yourself.
The time has come for you to embody your dreams. Yes maybe you are slow, maybe you’re devoid of talents but trust me this is what you will be needing for the days to come. Some days better than the others.
Happiness deserves you. It has waited far too long, despite your loathing and flawed self. Happiness deserves you because you are worth waiting for.
I have been falling again and again. There seems to be no end to it. I am picking up my shit together and making an effort to rise. But that is when my legs let go, making me sink in the delirious clay. I have been looking at the past few years of my life and the only thing which comes to my mind is – What have I been doing all this time?
It was real tough for me to turn back the pages of the meaningless chapters. It was tough when I saw my own reflection in the mirror. But I couldn’t recognize the monster staring right through me. Her eyes piercing through my soul and looking beneath it.
What little I have learnt from the years that built me is that I don’t have the time to show people how I feel. Because for one moment if I let that dam open, then floods of terrible emotions would gush out. Rapidly. Damaging everything. Emotions which were savaged beyond recognition long ago.
Its like walking the road at midnight and all you see are pale contours. Your own footsteps echoing at a distance. Fading. All you hear is the hum of hellhounds. You are reminded of the beast within you every time you tumble. You are reminded of your own self. A rag doll which can be shown lilac skies, which is damaged and beyond repair.
But I will also cut the skin of anyone who tries to touch me, ever. I will suppress my urge to leave burnt marks on whomever I touch.
And that’s when you know. You succumb to your own grief. Yes, this is grief and I have vehemently surrendered to it.
I stare at the lizard picking the corner of its mouth. The darkness has shrouded me but I can see crystal clear. The ceiling has lost its colour. The distemper paint is weathering off already. I fall into a rhythm. Switch on the bed lamp. Switch it off. On. Off. On. Off.
You are all alone, you piece of shit. Nobody here to help. This life belongs to you. You have such little time left. Didn’t listen when I told you that you would end up like this. Taste it, maggot. Taste it.
The thing is when you are illuminated you go back to your old ways. How can I tell you that I feel happy and depressed at the same moment? You have to honour and thank your senses for letting you live. Longer than you ever imagined. The bad is more but you feel what possible mistake would you make if you indulge in a little good?
You can do whatever you see fit with your life. Its your decision to make. As I told you before, its an odyssey in which you can be your own mistress. You just need to have a bit of both patience and faith.
So you’re 17 now. Probably thinking how to go through your finals. Suicide feels a real possibility. You have thought about it numerous times. But coward that you are. You can’t even empty a bottle of pills in one go. And every time you take out the scalpel from your biology box you feel sheepish. You stop midway between opening a vein and revert. You have no idea whether this would heal you or destroy you completely. Why not give it a try?
You are all alone, you piece of shit. What was your perception of life? All rainbows and flowers?
That’s it then. Sixteen years in this sublime place. I am so grateful for having a few people in my life and who listened to every bit of chit-chat I did. I wish I could tell you about all this. Each and every bit of thought caged in my dull mind. But words fail me. How can I point fingers when I am the one who’s responsible, where I am the one who’s fallen.
Taste it, maggot. You deserve it.
Picture : © The Chronicle