My Failings

You can’t be successful without being suffered.

I would frown at every accomplished person while listening to their success stories. I would say ” what do they know about my suffering ? ” and ” oh, the same phrases, which leads nowhere.” Now, when I glance back at my life, a year before as it was and now when I reflect upon my that situation, all the phrases and the success stories have beginning to make sense to me. 

For a person can’t be successful without being suffered, like a bird, who can’t fly without the fear of falling on the ground. Like a baby, whose first step follows a series of countless trippings until he learns to walk steady. I had been so comfortable in my own comfort zone that I forgot about the heavenly and the earthly tests. I always gave an air that no bad circumstances could ever hit me. I was wrong, then after graduation, the job hunting made me realize that comfort zone is a fancy. Life doesn’t offer you bed of roses always, thorns also exist. I gave endless interviews and demonstrations but there was something that had to be done first. That very thing was to give me a reality check, that its about time to mend my habits and my carefully nurtured views. I didn’t like the reality check, not a bit of it at first. Watching the underdogs settling in their lives was a dreadful sight for me. 23 and still dependent on parents, was like an insult to me. What was even more painful than their not taunting you and still supporting you. I missed many opportunities and the ones I caught was never meant for me. My anxiety was engulfing me and my mind was in a state of constant war. I yelled , I cried and what not. 

Then Almighty bestowed me with some creative gifts, I couldn’t have ever thought of. Yes, I started sketching and writing. I was a student who used to loathe drawing and was a least scorer in that subject. Writing, I was always fond of but the intensity and the depth of words, gushing out of my chest and running on the paper was something mysterious to me. Though, I am still amateur and terrible at both the things but I know they bring me solace everytime. I am still jobless and dependent on my parents but I have learned one thing, “how to encounter your worst fear, fear of failure”. Now I know life outside of my so called comfort zone and how am I gonna pave my way to success, I once imagined. I honor my lows and I am indebted, a great deal to my sufferings and failures. 

Life is a funny thing, it has many tests thrown in your way and countless experiences that don’t come handy. 

For there is no success without suffering

and no life without lessons.

I’ll Always be a 90’s Kid

For I’ll always be a 90’s kid
I’ll jump on every crossing sign,
I’ll twist my finger in the cassette hole,
I’ll always love the typewriters
and the polaroids.
I’ll always love the frilled frocks
and the moist bibs.
For I’ll always be a 90’s kid.
The sight of enormous dictionaries
will always enlighten me.
For I am still a 90’s kid,
I am everywhere out there,
in the jigsaws and in the seesaws,
in the swings and in the rings.
In old frames and elders
remembering our silly shapes.
In storybooks and in the reading nooks.
For I’ll always be a 90’s kid
© Writing Aspirations

I Am ME

I am good at acting ME and not pretending THEM.

I like delayed meetings,

missed opportunities,

cold shoulders,

blank faces,

messy trasses,

rude voices.

I like dark allys,

empty lobbies,

long pavements,

dirt roads,

dry leaves.

I like shivering bodies,

slow steps,

missed signs,

hissed talks,

sushed tongues.

I like wild jungles,

thorny shrubs,

green herbs.

I like open books,

without bookmarks

and my phone

without no call.

I like to see heights,

getting mightier.

I like sunset, it sinks my heart.

I love heartbreaks and I like

teary eyes and sudden laughs.

I like what the person my choices

have made me.. 

Because It makes me, ME. 

Shattered Mirror

Lying under the white sheet

staring at the plain, smooth roof.

Twirling a strand of my hair,

trying aimlessly to gather my thoughts.

Want to taste the tear, gushing through my eye.

Want to feel it chilling my burning cheek.

Wondering, where is the pivot point of my life.

Suddenly, a melody spreads in my room

And my flesh starts turning sour,

goosebumps are tantalizing the surface of my bare arm.

I remember I heard that melody with you.

When you had your best garb on.

When I deemed in you and your

ornamented lies.

When I lived decades in few seconds.

When I felt complete and healed for

the first time.

When I felt secure in your arms.

When I rejoiced in your little successes.

But then, the mirror of perfection got

shattered.

You provided me with my worst nightmare “Aloneness” and you left.

and you left.

As you wanted peace.

That my soul failed to give you.

But you said, you were a chaos.

Yes, you were right there, you

were indeed, a chaos.

But you didn’t tell me that you

were a thief too.

You stole my peace with great dexterity.

You deprived me of my only possession.

May you not have it!

I am slipping out of the bed now,

Taking heavy steps, fastly.

Blocking my ears, calming the

tumultuous waves inside me.

I have stopped the melody

and I am going to fool my organs

once again.

Like I did, when I was with you.

Just a heartbreak !

It’s worth it to leave the baggage early and unattended.

I have stopped living for a while, just breathing enough breaths to keep me alive. Hopes, aspirations and dreams, I have buried them for a while. My energy is draining with every passing second, sinking in the depth of guilty, bitten by mistrust, leaving my mind in a worse condition, thanks to the heartbreak.

This isn’t the first time, I had had many heartbreaks before but this one is one of its kind. My fingers know, what alphabets to press to put the words on this screen. The effusive lava of mixed emotions of failure, deceit, and fear is coming out of my chest. I know, one moment I am productive but in the other moment, I am a decaying corpse.

This heartbreak stands out above every other heartbreak, defeat, and fear, I have ever encountered. My RELATIONS and PRINCIPLES had been at stake this time, yes, I had been constantly feeding lies to the ones who had put their trust in me. My every organ is condemning me and cursing me for their illegal use that I had made so nonchalantly. My every part is in a rebellion against me. I am tired of soothing the chaos prevailing in my soul and in my body. I have wronged myself and I have wronged them. I stayed aloof to my principles and my theories and KARMA got me. I dilapidated myself in front of him, so badly. I can picture his waves of laughter and his fists clapping upon my defeat, the one defeat, where I surrendered myself without even retaliating.

I am not positive about myself right now, maybe after decades, when I ‘ll be my true self again, I ‘ll reflect on my previous life, my bruises and scars would be long gone at that time. I think I should prepare myself for the upcoming good days. If my heart can break multiple times, it ‘ll find a long lasting cure too. My organs have forgiven me, finally, my heart and mind have finally agreed on a resolve, MY SELF PRESERVANCE, and REJUVENATION. It’s time to come out of my bubble, not to take revenge, not to avenge my wounds but to finally put things right for my own self. After all, it’s just a heartbreak and I am not alone in this thing.

Image courtesy : Pinterest

The Girl I hated

The hate battle, we didn’t even initiated.

This one is for the girl, I hated unconsciously. Hey! I hope you’ll be doing fine. I am sorry, I hated you once so much due to him. You weren’t bad or a bitch, he was a hound, who made us fight. You might not know me but I know you very closely. He broke you in million pieces in the past and my present is enduring the same agony, you once felt. He told me you were hot, trendy and a modern girl. He liked my simplicity by saying “I am a nomad too, I like you this way”, unfortunately, that was again, his prosaicness. He discarded me too, saying I am too old school, duffer and possess orthodox views.

We both have been stabbed by the same dagger. You with your makeup on and I, without it. Your jeans were his pride and my pajama was his disappointment. We had been culprits in his hands. I don’t know the air you carry about me but I am ashamed, I failed us both. Forgive me.

Another girl, who hated you without knowing and with no obvious reason.

You deserve all the goodness of this world without any discrimination.

On discarding the current self

This world is divided in the phenomenon of two. Both on the concrete and the abstract level. Both are the wont of one another, two equal forces, tell one another off. Sky for pouring rain and earth for the blanket of soil. Likewise, morals and immorals to live with. And, I am constantly torn between the phenomenon of two. I so want to shed the very oneself, I have been nurturing for many years. I want to embrace the second self, I want to live and cherish that desired self. My present self is holding me back for going on new ventures, it is choking my throat and twisting my muscles. I’ve had enough of this self.  I just can’t deal with the vices of my weak demons and hollow spirits. I so want to hear my inner voice, yelling, crying and cheering me to push myself beyond my limits. To turn every negative into affirmative, every fear into a new try. Every doubt into recognition. My current self is calling its wont, its other half, its opponent, indeed a mighty one and a staunch believer. With a warrior’s mind and an artist’s novelty. Like the drops of sweat being freshly wiped from a warrior’s forehead and the fine strokes of a paint brush. Freeing the spirits, letting them wander in a careful joy but not aimlessly. To challenge my lows and my gloom, to scare them. To rejuvenate me, to give me birth again and to construct the empire of my possibilities and becomings from the scratch,  by laying the foundations of self-realization and self-love.

I just want to forget about the reminders and the self-doubts. I want to laugh so hard that my eyes get teary, like they are now, due to the former reasons. I want to bury my this loathsome negative self so deep in the ground, in the oceans’ depth so it can’t come out to ask for a lodging in my body and soul. I am clinging between what do they want and how do I make them gay? In my heart, I just want to be a bloody narcissist so I can save myself from the impugned tongues’ attacks. I want to love me, think me, cherish me and above all live me! I can’t go on hating myself, yes I am a sinner and a wrongdoer. If Almighty can forgive me, why can’t I forgive me? Why do I inflict injuries upon my own self? To conceal the darkness prevailing in the chamber of my heart? No, self, deserves to be loved after Almighty.

I want to hug me, kiss me and look after me. After all, this self silently endured the cruelties I inflicted upon him. They hate me, they can. They laugh at me, they can. They bash me, they disown me and they discredit me, still, they can. As I have stopped entertaining them and start admiring my own self. Imperfect, bruised, ugly, fat and immoral , whatever you call it (or you can seek aid from the dictionary.) I ll raze your every comment with my steadfastness and my aloofness towards your opinions. I ll love myself, I ll love my imperfect self and I ll rejoice in my own company. Call me mad, freak or crazy but I have just realized what I should  have years ago.

I own me and I owe me a lot.

Eternal Decay

They used to say love is selfless

I used to say it’s baseless.

Then, I too fall in love,

He was moon, I was earth

He was so high, I couldn’t reach him.

He asked me to ascend myself to

see his world.

I was too good, to climb those steps.

All I wanted, was his soul, 

enough to heal my bruises.

All he was interested, 

in the folds of my body. 

He said, love is to submit and rule others.

Was I too aloof to his lust

or thought it was his  love.

He dragged me into the depths of murky

 waters and mud.

My soul smeared and never got

 purification till this time.

He said, my views are orthodox, 

but he once admired 

the same orthodoxness.

My self pride, vent in vain.

He , cleansed his sins in some other rain.

My honor got polluted and mutilated,

I was too good to care,

I adorned myself with the scars he gave.

I was again on the earth, 

he was still on sky.

They say, I was blind, I was shameless.

They say, I am honorless, ceaseless.

They say, I ain’t good enough to be loved.

If love is all about nakedness,

may you get a naked soul 

and an ornamented body.

Let it parch the last dew of lust,

 lingering over your mouth. 

Then make you fall at its tips.

Humans are naked, 

naked thoughts and hollow heart.

Love, is an illusion, 

trapping people in its confusion.

Beauty has to end, 

so that their lust can take rest.

Soul is eternal, the only thing, 

that will be raised above the heavens.

Love is selfless

Love is baseless.

In a Metro Bus

Some destinies aren’t meant for us.

That was a hazy day,

people were rubbing their

hands to get some warmth. 

They were running to their 

destinations that weren’t

meant for them. 

All of them gathered in a metro,

there was one similarity 

among them.

At that moment, all were travellers, 

all had dreams.

Some were going to see their loved ones

some were parting from them.

There were students, 

white lab coats, coffin of their dreams.

 Yet they were wearing those coats.

There were elder people, 

their wrinkled cheeks, 

like the steep path, 

showed how life was for them.

Their watchful eyes, their silence.

The enigma of their presence, 

described their legacy.

There were toddlers, jumping to and fro

in careless joys.

Their definition of life was enriched 

with dreams and possibilities.

The metro bus, was moving slowly, 

there was an unknown danger, 

some fearful thoughts and 

some aspirations to be fulfilled.

Yet all of them were running from their selves, 

from their dreams.

Every station, brought a chance to return,

 to chase the dreams.

But all of them were like metro track, 

they were being walked upon 

and ruled upon.

Once again, 

man was miserable in the hands of fate. 

Worst is the new Best

I am not curious anymore.

How does it feel to be alone in the myriad of a human sea ? How does it feel to see your future crumble infront of your own eyes ? How does it feel to be not in the Good Book anymore ? How does it feel to sink into the depths of negativity ? How does it feel to be walked upon over and over again ? How does it feel to face rejections and bear heartbreaks so intense to crush the very spirit of your soul ? How does it feel to write lamenting notes instead of hopeful narratives? Lastly, how does it feel to not feel yourself as you but a distant creature, rather a FRANKENSTEIN.

I don’t know the answers and I don’t want them to feel. Some people are heartless and senseless. Its about time I join their league and wear a mask, get myself lost in a masqeurade party. But, no , I can’t do these things. Better to get myself bruised than burry someone else. My mind is in a fix and the jigsaw puzzle is still awaiting for the last puzzel piece, the perfect image’s desire is still incomplete. The mazes are yet to be runned in and the scribbles too unharmonious to touch the strings of the heart. I am not curious anymore, I am learning to embrace myself at my worst. As if worst is the new best.