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While I am writing this blog post, I can see the Heading in bold, demanding for a Title, a justification, a reason or few words to summarize the lines I want to write. I can’t think of a title or am I trying to save my remaining strength and dignity by merely writing some incoherent lines, that would just add to the frustration of the reader? My words are just like me, perplexed and frustrating.

I didn’t nurture my perplexed state and I wasn’t a born frustrated person. I have been ensnared in this trap, over the years, like every other person walking on this earth, reading quotes, in a constant state of fighting with his brain and enduring the pain of his tensed nerves.

Optimistic, optimism and strong, I have never been a part of this tribe. Since my childhood, I have always cherished in the company of only one massive group, “the underestimating machine”, yes, I have always underestimated myself, since then, all the successes I have bagged to till this date is actually the working of God and after him Almighty, it is Art. Proving my fragile self to my mind and soul.

I dreamt for one thing, like the Protagonist of Paulo Coelho’s Novel “Eleven Minutes”, love, never ending selfless love. This dream is still a dream and even if Reality tries to do justice to it, Fate intervenes and all I get to hear are some excuses, blames and apologies. They close the door so hardly and harshly, that my soul shrieks and my feelings shiver. I blame myself for the damage done to myself by myself. I know, these paragraphs might be frustrating you out but that’s how I have become now. I have so many secrets and some of them have to be carried towards my grave. My insecurities, my complexes, the idea of finding a safe shelter between this temporary World and the never ending life of Hereafter. My mind is constantly dwindling between the idea of a saint or a sinner and where will I finally tread. Heaven’s too pure for me and my sins are worst than the gravest of sins ever done on this earth. I am perplexed from head to toe and likewise frustrated too. I can never stop my tongue from uttering baseless, senseless harsh words and once I have spoken them, I can never terminate my mind from thinking, how badly I hurt others and I have reserved a place for me in Hell, inside the burning coals, thorns and two forked insects.

I don’t know how to act normal and sound. One rejection made life horrible for me, then rejections continued. I can’t close the doors to my heart, I am a human too. A friggin human, who has been cursed with a heart, few feelings, and a too thinkable mind. Who feels for them but not for myself. Even my body isn’t mine. I know my Creator and my Sustainer isn’t a tyrant and a cruel master to throw me in the hell fire, If I just skip a prayer . But my mind tells me, a sinner can’t do this, what if your hidden sins get exposed, where would you go? Earth will not accept you and Skies will look down upon you, you’re a sinner. You let your lovers pollute you, you let them misuse you, cut your body, that pieces of your filthy body with iron bars where they touched you. But I am not even capable of doing this. I go everywhere with a battle inside my head, I write verses, I write prose to get some relief but mind says you’re a terrible writer because you have to look for every word and you double check every error.

Rejection, alone couldn’t make me the terrible me, my rejection of myself played the massive part in my rejection too. I abhor someone approaching me with care and prayers. I hate concerns and above all, I hate being bothered by anyone. I dread humans, I dread Love and I am overburdened by my tangled mind and thorny tongue.

 

Mortification or Gratification

Clean dishes, bed made.

Clothes ironed and bookshelves pristine.

Curtains flawless, floors stainless.

Clean surroundings, tidy atmosphere.

But my mind is still a mess,

forces inside, playing a game of chess.

I give an air, everything’s just fine,

then why don’t my eyes shine.

My nerves have never been at ease, since then

They say things will get right but when?

I am hapless, hopeless and all that stuff.

My heart pounds, my feet trips and of

my mind’s demons?

I can’t even comprehend!

I am distancing myself from people,

I want to live the liberty of an Eagle,

denuded of this horrendous world.

My words hurt, my acts kill

and my intuition liquidate.

My senses have fallen from

fancy fences.

 

 

 

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.

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

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.

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. 

I Ain’t You 

your sacred, scares me

your mundane, mortifies me.

your success, suffocates me

your odds, even me.

your pretty, petrifies me.

your custom, consumes me.

your happiness, saddens me

your diction, demarcates me.

you are you and I can’t be you.

you have some things, I had had on

my wish list. 

You live in the present, I live in throwbacks.

all this is too much contrastive, can’t be compared at the moment.

Paradigm shift has to occur, justice has to be restored.

I did everything to keep me in peace, but the agony had its stay.

I had to succumb my angel to my demon’s vices.

My acopalypse had to come to define my utopia.

You took your choices, I paved mine. 

You’re living your time, can’t snatch my

share.

Earth can’t be heaven, hell can’t remain forever.

So live with it, don’t chafe me.

He said “you are late”

I was on cloud nine and suddenly, out of nowhere , I found myself burried deep down in the earth. Apparently, there wasn’t a speck of a single bruise on my body but I couldn’t breathe. My voice choked and my heart sank. I asked him ” where did I go wrong?”. He said “you are perfect and haven’t done anything wrong”. Unsatisfied by his reply, I asked him again “did I trigger your this aloofness?” He said “No ! I just want to be alone. I don’t feel the same for you. SORRY, BUT YOU’RE LATE.” I couldn’t shed the tears that I so wanted to see running down my cheeks and freeing my soul but they couldn’t come out. He said ” We are soulmates and we will be forever.” My conscience laughed a great laugh and said “you just got betrayed again honey, encounter your worst fear now , Fear of betrayal.” There I was standing and wondering that how could I give in to some prosaic verses and ornamented words. I had always been a lover of words and poetry but my tragedy was too much for me at that time. I felt so low and degraded at his deprivation, I wanted him to stay but he couldn’t live with an introvert and an anxiety patient. In tears, I texted my best friend, who was still there for me , even in this time too. She made me fall in love with my Creator and myself once again. She corrected my self abrasive conduct and resolved my doubts. Her words were so comforting and awakening at the same time. 

This time, the heartbreak is burning me and stabbing me every single second but I am ready for the square off. I don’t even hate him now because for that to happen, I will have to establish connection with him again. A connection of abhorrence and dispisement. And I want to distance myself from every single person that negates my soul and self. 

My diapidation is my rejuvenation. 

You’re the only one

Yes ! you’re the only one.

Admit it and embrace it.

You’re the only one.

Not for him or them,

but for your ownself.

No one can assure a

safe heaven for you,

except the ONE.

Sitting above the seven

skies and limitlessness. 

Your sins may be uncountable

but still unaccountable, if you

repent.

People will scale your sins, tatter your

soul and pollute that very character

of yours which they themselves painted

meticulously. 

They will make you sin, then they will

abraise you.

How funny is that.

Yet how comforting is this, that

HE is the only one for you.

Earthly promises dissolve,

HEAVENLY promises are absloute

resolve. 

Here’s to us

Here’s to us,

the broken girls. 

We know how 

to fake.

We know how 

to shake those 

reticent woes.

Here’s to us,

the repressed ones.

We know how to please them.

On the cost of our humilation. 

The countless selfie clicks,

to suffice their tricks.

Here’s to us,

the fat and chubby

girls.

We know how to abraise

ourselves.

To get their beffiting replies.

The rants of barbie dolls, 

outstaged by teddy bears.

Here’s to us,

the domesticized girls.

They call us boring afterwards 

but they hunt us first.

Here’s to us, 

the trendy girls,

they call us bitches.

Themselves raised by

witches.

Here’s to us,

the shy girls.

We are the soft targets,

give in to the prosaic

and the gibberish. 

Here’s to us,

here’s to our allies.

The selfie cameras,

the rouge and the mascaras.

The fat burning drinks and 

the clogged pores tricks.

Here’s to self abraisment

sorry, you were being 

misused.

The self, you hated the most,

is still holding on to you.

The muffled cries and the 

choked voices.

The ruined hope and the lost

virginity.

Here’s to the dyes and the paints.

Here’s to the atm machines and 

the avoided family intervenes.

Here’s to the well build lies and

the useless tries.

Here’s to the pillow and the bedside

tree of willow.

Here’s to the sleeplessness and the

overthinkingness.

Here’s to every fragile part of me,

still keeping up with me.

Here’s to the screens and the 

last scenes. 

Here’s to the goosebumps thar resulted into foolish ends.

Here’s to the allusions, here’s to the

mirages.

Here’s to the hunger, here’s to the grief.

Here’s to the faithfulness, here’s to the care. 

Here’s to the lies and here’s to the deceits.

Our allies have been amazing,

only if they could articulate and

speak.

World would know, how porous a

female heart is. 

Here’s to them,

the pretentious ones.

Karma is on their way,

and has come to stay.

Here’s to the fake smiles and hugs.

The sweet purposeless touchs.

The bitter tongue and the 

bridges of mistrust.

Here’s to them, the hunters.

Here’s to their banters.

Here’s to their crooked nature

and playfullness.

Here’s to their ephemeral victory,

the liars’ history.

Here’s to us,

the big broken girls.

Here’s to us, 

the bruised girls.

Here’s to us, 

here’s to us.

They may not celebrate us,

we will wear funeral veils,

to mourn their eccentrities.