Aim, shoot and regret

Decisions, decisions.
Welcome to adulthood.
I am probably going to look back someday and laugh that I spent 24 hours obsessing about this one thing but right now I am in a battle.
When you are in the battlefield there is no past and no future. Only now. Right now.
Right now there are decisions to be made.
Which road do I pick? What kind of person will I be if I take on this journey? Am I even ready for it? I don't want to die in vain.
Everyone is in a frenzy to achieve something.
Can I get a moment please?
And can you make it last forever?
I am wounded and I cannot fight.
Forgive me for being a coward but I am not ready to die and I am not ready to heal.
Let me bleed this time.
Let it be forever.

Whims Of A Shy Girl

I stood at the corner of the stairways listening to people talking about random, unimportant. I wanted to go downstairs, I was hungry. But their voices made my legs freeze. I knew if I go down I’ll have to talk to them… greet them, and do all the formalities that I absolutely hate and never understand.

If I just went downstairs and make it to the kitchen without saying a word they’ll think I am rude and uninterested. The later I was but not rude, never intentionally.

I am standing still but my brain is racing, struggling. It tells me to move my feet and go downstairs, be polite and then go to the kitchen. Could such a simple thing be a dilemma? What was I afraid of? They don’t live to judge me, they don’t care. But it’s not about the judgment. I just want to be invisible. I want more space. I feel the air is full of their energy, their thoughts.

I can’t just stand in once place, it’s already been thirty minutes. I go to my room and check my face. I look presentable, that’s encouraging. I spend some more time pacing from the edge of the stairway to my room, still listening to their voices. I can’t be a prisoner in my own house. I repeat this in my head over and over again.

Maybe I should go back to my room and wait for them to leave. Next thing I know, I am making my way down the stairs with a smile on my face.  I greet them and they greet me back. It happened so quick, almost effortlessly. I reach the kitchen and breathe out in relief

It’s over...for now. 

Behind hating, beyond hatred.

Sometimes no matter how far I try to run away from all the hate and negativity in this world, everywhere I turn, I see a hater. Their eyes that judge every moving thing, mouth that can only speak hurtful words. Even if they are dropped into a big tank of melted milk chocolate, they will still come out tasting bitter!

I can’t help but wonder the reason behind their hostility towards all things living. What satisfaction they get by putting others down? Is that a way to make them feel better about their own life? Something very silly can infuriate them so much that they can’t even keep those rancid, decaying thoughts to themselves. No, they have to open up their mouth and spill it all in the name of being ‘real’.

But what is behind their faces? Behind those abhorring, scorned expressions? Who are these people and what are their stories? Sometimes I think they are hurt. That every baseless comment they pass is just a cry for help. Perhaps they are immature and naïve, that they do not understand the power of words.  They must be too busy to look back and witness the repercussions of their comments. . They never saw the heartbreak. So they never knew they hated. 

Can they be just plain evil? Sadists who like to watch people burn in all consuming fire of their anger.

Or maybe, just maybe they are wounded and the only remedy they know is tears of their victims.

 "Hating is like burning down your own house to get rid of a rat." - Harry Emerson Fosdick 

I am always prepared.

I didn't sleep until 6am in the morning. Around 8am I heard a sharp knock on my door followed by my sister asking me, "Do you want to go down to the beach today with us?". After considering the pros and cons for few mins (cons being I only had 2 hours of sleep) I agreed to go with her and her friends who are visiting Andaman.

After breakfast my sister gave me 30mins to get ready. So I rushed upstairs, had my morning fag and chose a coral top and harem pants to wear, slapped on my coral lipstick, lathered SPF 50 all over my face and body. Voilà! beach perfect in less that 10 mins. I spent rest of my time packing essentials for the beach. I thought of taking my swimming costume because but instead I packed a cropped legging, a white tank top and another white lacy top to go above it. I thought swimming costume would be too revealing and no one actually wears costumes in beaches here except 5 year old. My sister asked me if I have packed everything and I replied, "I am always prepared".

Nothing beats the feeling of being at the beach. Tiny grains of sand under my feet felt orgasmic. Warm weather, cool water and smell of the sea awakened all of my senses. I went in the changing room to change into my cropped black leggings and white tank top. After that me and my sister jumped into the water playing and laughing like little children. I don't even know why I was laughing, the salt water acted like a drug. I discovered that of all the places to be, we experience immense happiness and freedom only around nature and not inside the brick walls we build for safety.  


But all my philosophy went out of the door when my sister pointed out that my tank top is now transparent. Here I am, surrounded by people who are in the water clad from head to toe in their sarees and salwars, and my nipples are clearly visible through my white top. I felt more exposed than I was. I decided to hide my upper half, find a tree and wear my bra inside my top and then go into the water again.

After that I went in the water fearless and we played for about 2 hours and sun bathed. Everything was going well until my sister's friend whispered that my legging is ripped, that too near my bum. I went to the deeper side of water so I can be inspect the rip myself. To my horror it was a huge rip over my right bum and thigh. Why God Why? Why me? Are you just trying to pull me down while you sit in heaven above, eat popcorn and watch me get humiliated?

I wrapped a towel around me went to the changing room and changed into my coral top and harem pants.

One thing kept echoing in my ears and mocking me " I am always prepared".

A word of advice : don't take old leggings and white tank tops to beach. Or better yet, take a god damn swimming costume.

I have a secret

I have a secret that I will take with me to the grave. 

Through out our lives, there is so much that goes on in our head. There are so many things we do that we think should be buried deep within us, it could be anything, stealing, affairs, addictions, how different are they from each other anyway? But I truly believe in letting it all out before I pass on from this world. 

So, you see? When I say that I have a secret that I'll take with me to the grave, I am fighting against myself and what I stand for. Honesty, fearlessness, courage...I am willing to turn of all the light around to protect the darkness I hold in my heart.

I have been taught by my guides that one must never take that darkness with them to the beyond. To start a fresh journey old luggage must be dealt with. It has no use. In fact if you decide to take the same luggage, the same burden with you, you will travel the same road again and again until the weight is gone. 


Today I stand at crossroads. I feel like a student who left the school but all her knowledge is of no use as she has succumbed to the force of this physical reality. 
I don't know if I can enjoy the warmth of the sun when I have given my heart to the dark night. 


Secrets haunt you. You can't forget it or ignore it. It's a vicious circle, one day it'll stand in front of you, waiting for you to confront. How can the past be left behind if you choose to carry it with you.

It scares me to think that a part of me is out of control, reckless, inappropriate and dangerous.


Am I the predator or the victim? 

Sin, guilt, neurosis; they are one and the same, the fruit of the tree of knowledge.- Henry Miller

Faith

I have been walking back and forth for awhile now

Waiting for the wise one to appear

I hope someday I’ll see their faces

They’ll smile and tell me the secret

And the doors to another world will open

I’ll finally be out of my miseries

I’ll be loved by my own unconditionally

And forever be remembered for my bravery. 

My Broken Glasses

I wish I had rainbow on my lips, glittering skin and rosy-coloured glasses on my eyes, walking down the street.  But the bitter sweet confessions rolling out of my tongue attracts only silence. Is it the rumblings in my head or sounds cars in the distance? Or is it the wine of my thoughts that have dragged me out to witness insanity? Corners of the street I stand like a shadow of humanity; on the silver sheets of dreams I talk to mirrors, addressing to all of the fraternity. 

Lips Of Steel

They say her heart is like still water, you can see the reflection of beauty or beast. 

But the best thing about her is her lips, a pair of sharp blades,  every word she says will tear you apart.

She’ll sell pieces of your heart in the name of honesty while you bow your head and stand half-hearted full of shame.

Don’t go running when the truth overpowers your ego. The truth is, little ego is a necessity.

Resolution

I don’t need to look behind my back before I shout from the mountain top

I don’t need to dust the dirt off the road I choose to walk on

You have tainted the sound of being

I’ll still find courage to rejoice. 

Death Sentence

Our heads always have been on the chopping block. If you hate me because of my colour or my faith you can sentence me to death .

I have a problem, I can't think right. I have made many kids cry for help. Maybe it's fair for you to close all the windows and let no light come in. Don't I deserve to breathe the same air of sanity like you do?
But my hands were made to be marked and my face to be painted black.

I see you chose to stand on the other side of the road, wearing the robes of a saint, then why do you carry a knife in your hand? Your hands are drenched with the blood of a sinner, it is just as red as mine. But I am the one who is suppose to die.

Brother, my death is your death, my life is your life.

Plastic Flowers

If I sell your favorite shiny black boots to the wrath of drought, will it wither under the stare of the sun? The stories from city can save your throat for only so long. Past week or past life, your memories will betray you.

Instead I'll cover you with fluorescent lights, the moon will abandon you. If you love the cold metal monster breathing down your neck I'll let the ocean breeze know you don't miss it anymore . Concrete walls and graying streets, green fields of plastic creates such beauty that the softness of  leaves is too insignificant to be felt again.

I'll give you everything outside so you'll never have to look inside again.

Diamonds

I was born on a sacrificial stone.

They chanted through the night till the last strip of grey was painted red.When I woke up from my slumber, I had another name. 

The only one familiar is the one I can't see, the one I can't touch. Why do I bring bear this burden of knowing? All it's ever done is made me seem aloof.

But every time I find a diamond under it's black veil, it gives me hope and I pray for strength to carry on. It's something about your beautiful eyes, when it smiles with joy, I feel closer to home.

Everyday Miracles

I ask myself everyday, why do i play this game? Is it even worth winning when there is so much to lose?

Sometimes I like to watch people on the street, to be a witness of their existence and still be invisible. Like i am the smallest thing in the world, a fleeting moment, a curious glance, a question waiting to be answered or an answer searching for a question.

And then the big bad monster goes away because I am too small to be found, to insignificant to be around.
I don't know you and you don't know me. But somehow we are here together, if that is not a miracle, then what is?

Alone

My housemates are in celebrating Easter with their parents, so I get the house to myself. It's quite nice actually. Not to close to bathroom door all the time, I can talk as loudly as i want to, I can sing without being told I am out of tune. It is a nice change.

I have been wondering what loneliness is. More often than not, I choose to be alone. I am an introvert (INFJ) so I always need to recharge myself my having some alone time. But I guess alone time does not equal the feeling of being lonely.

Webster's dictionary describes lonely as "being without company". One can be alone if no one is around but can feel alone in midst of a crowd. So it's really about being alone or feeling alone.Sometimes being alone helps you figure out yourself, it clears your head and gives you a fresh perspective. To be in company with yourself is very comforting. On the other hand,  feeling alone tears you apart. Nothing is more disturbing than feeling lonely, it's like you need to save yourself from yourself. If only someone can hear the screams in your head.

But often I find that the I cannot save a person who feels lonely. No matter how much I try to guide them out of the darkness, sooner or later they will leave my hand and run back to it again. And I have discovered that it is not me who holds the key to get them out of that dark room. They key has always been in their pocket.

The light is always within.

Rain

The moment I move on is often hidden by the mundane. Only after I have walked few miles, that I look back and realize what is left behind. A shadow, an echo of memories is what you have become. What comes after the judgement day?

Forgetfulness maybe.

Now when it rains, I relish every moment of it. Water will seep into me. That forever will be mine.

To see beauty is a bliss...to hold it, is Nirvana.

Closed

I often come cross people who are 'closed'. Some say they are know-it-all, other's say they are insecure with themselves. No one actually knows the real reason...because they are closed. It's like tasting a cyanide...you can't actually know the taste because you are dead before you know it.

Maybe being "closed" is not as deadly as cyanide, or is it? Maybe it's a slow poison. Little by little it kills any hope for the imagination to escape. No curiosity, no thirst to learn, no love, no hate.
Closed like you have never seen the light. Like you have never known the dark.

I am exaggerating obviously. You won't go to that extent. You will sense the danger and stop.

But what if you don't?

 Oh! i forgot, if's and but's don't work in your world. All the possibilities is out of reach. All you see is what really exists.

Call me crazy but I like to draw outside the line. 

Faces of Love

It's Valentines day, so how can I think about anything but love.

I am single and most of my friends are. Whenever one of us feels low I always advice them to be content being alone. Whenever they ask "Am I not worth being loved", I say stop feeling like you are not worth it, when the time is right love will come.

Yet no one can deny the emptiness we feel. The sinking feeling that there never may be a 'right time' and we cannot deny that love indeed is the greatest form of self-validation. A person can be born with one eye and two nose, but if he/she is loved then the fight has already been won.

Love is the reason why people feel accepted or rejected. Like a pure energy it could be the the light or dark.

We in this physical world have the power to manipulate energy. Our thoughts and words can make someone feel loved but prejudices often stop us from loving people, forces them to ask themself if they are worth it.

Isn't everyone worth it? And why would someone's race, sexual orientation, their physical attractiveness etc get involved in matters of the heart?

Why can't we all unconditionally love each other...why is a stranger threatening, why is the unknown scary?

Love is grande. And I guess that is why we need families, friends, soulmates and twin flame to understand and experience it completely. It seems like one lifetime just isn't enough to appreciate all the faces of love.

Estuary

I am surrounded by mundane things.

On uni days I need to follow my routine. I have to get up on a specific time, get ready and leave for the class early. Most importantly I have to sleep early, which is hard because I am nocturnal. But I fear missing a class or being all tired the next day so I put on a light relaxing music that will help me sleep.

Routine makes me sad. But it is the only way I can survive this mundane world. I often wonder if I am in the wrong place. I wonder if I am ever truly present. But here a sign on the attendance list is all it takes.
I was present, I was invisible.

What keeps me here? A sense of purpose? Or lack of courage... or is it just the fact that I am suppose to be present.
I need to get through this. I need to endure.

And one day the river will meet the ocean.

Stone

How can I introduce myself to you? Before a home, there was a house, and the house is made of me.

 I have heard your cries when you thought you were in hiding. I am the keeper of your secrets. 

 Unlike you, I have no voice. I am the most patient listener, a faithful observer. 

When you fight with your lover and shut yourself in a room, you are vulnerable without your mask of ego. You whisper an apology, I wish your lover could hear what I hear. 

Many faces you have my dear, truest of all you have been with me. I wish I could let the world know that your heart is of gold. 

But I have to hold my silence, for this is the curse of being a stone. 

Fairness Sham

I got published today. My article was featured in The Echo Of India newspaper, it is about how Indians are obsessed with being fair. Not only Indians but many Asians use "skin whitening" creams containing bleaching agents that are harmful for skin. The advertisement of these products are done in way that says having a fair skin is a confidence booster and can get you a stature in life that you cannot attain by being dark. I believe this is just another form of racism, not to mention the utter foolishness of this whole idea that you can change your skin colour by rubbing a cream on your face.

Click to enlarge

How far can we go to change our self and to look the way society think is beautiful? I am all for taking care of my appearance but not at the cost of losing myself in this sham.

The definition of beauty is different for all as David Hume says "Beauty in things exists in the mind which contemplates them."  There will always be people whom you cannot please, but it is important to know you are beautiful inside out no matter what. 


There is more to beauty than what meets the eyes. 

Read the article here