Is falling out of place can be falling into place?

We being humans, seek a safe haven over our heads. At least, that is how our Primary needs function. We grow up building castles, dollhouses, eventually big giant buildings. This concept of a safe haven stirs questions in my mind and makes me restless every now and then.

Every person harbors different meaning of safe haven in his head. It can be in the form of finding safe haven in a lover’s arms or an enormous amount of cash, in one’s life. It can be in the form of seeking affection from people or distancing yourself from THE PEOPLE!.

Then come the MISFITS, the restless kind!

Their thoughts never let them sleep. For them, safe havens are fictional, mythical! The misfits, the gypsies, and the nomads don’t rest. For them, the question is for HOW LONG a roof can be safe for them? What if the safe roofs and walls get barricaded by the most unexpected or irresilient circumstances? Where would we run to? Where would we run for?

Why are the Safe Havens, so unsafe for us in this transient world? Because the world is transient and our stay here cannot be prolonged.  The human mind is the cruelest thing, that could ever happen to the mankind. They aren’t shackled, they don’t understand the boundaries. In their wandering, in the chaos, they find peace. They find their safe havens.

Society calls them raptured. But the raptured just questions the euphoric, Is falling out of place can be falling into place? 

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eulogy of a depressed mind!

The very title of my blog post is not something novel or incredible. Yet the novelty of my brain gets consumed by this thing each and every day. My mind has absorbed all the words written in fancy lettering and fonts that one can encounter in the bookstores or across the internet.

Yes, like any other person, I still look up to such quotes, sometimes for reassurance and sometimes for seeking empathy. I wander in search of at least one comforting line, one line that is able to speak my mind, that can substantiate the title to my crippling anxiety.

My mind! (chuckles) is like an uncontrolled storyline, where I am the protagonist, I am the storyteller, yet I feed myself lies every instance, so alike to an antihero’s vanity! Not to mention, I am the biggest antagonist of my story too.

My dilemma is everything and yet it is nothing. It is like a bubble, that flies in the air, vibrantly and becomes lifeless, the very next moment. I do not consider people responsible for my devastated state of mind. But, I did not, shop this depression all by myself too!

Apparently, I am enjoying the bounties of life, most of the people fancy.  I am not a thankless brat at the disposal of my family’s income. I prepare myself, every day to instigate this race of life, where every lap gives vent to relentless laps. I take every step towards the uncertain future, just to shut my mind who keeps on reminding me that if I failed, I will be left alone on the streets with empty pockets. My crisis is existential, it is spiritual!

Why I am so weak and act strong, against the passions of my primary need. A need that is suffocating me day by day. Making me a lecherous sinner, who sins just because life has failed to provide him! What am I? Who am I ? Where do I belong? Am I just a self-controlled compulsive liar? Where do I tread? Where will I perish?

I am done hiding and running! but what tactics, I know precisely of, other than hiding and running?  emotional-paintings-agnes-ceciles-world-of-watercolor-art-installations-mayhem-muse-picture

Feminity ? 

I don’t have to prove my feminity to everyone, especially to the people who treated me like shit.

I am just a gender devoided person inside a woman’s body. I like wearing makeup sometimes, sometimes Kohl rimmed eyes look so ravishing to me. I am not a part of the judgment and banning brigade.

I never asked a guy to prove his masculinity and I won’t, ever. It’s not his job to safeguard me or treat me like a feline creature. For me, all the men I had had once loved, were also like spirits inside a Male’s body. I’d rather be a humanist than being a feminist.

I am just trying to save my inner self for me. I don’t want them to drag the veil of my soul on thorny bushes.

I am wild, I am a non-conformist and a narcissist. I can’t conceal my innermost self anymore for their comfort.

Intransitiveness

I am only good at “being me”

A few hours ago, I was busy teaching my students the types of verb. “Transitive” and “Intransitive” verbs. The major difference between them was, that the former type involved the doer of the action whereas the latter form dealt with states or feelings without any doer of the action. I was wondering that how could a grammatical rule explain life so vividly! Like once there were many actions being performed by the doers and then the action couldn’t be transferred to the object, our heart.

Whenever a pimple appears on my face, my aunts question me “why are you getting them again?” to which I reply defensively “oh they are better, they were much worse weeks ago” Does a pimple know, if it is appearing on a male skin or a female skin? Just like that pimple, I am devoid of the feeling of gender inside my soul until I reach my menstrual cycle every month to proclaim that I am a girl. Why being a girl is so tough for me? I am not a tomboy either. I am me, yes, just me! A free spirited bird, who wants to flatter the wings and fly, just fly without stopping.

They jest at me, saying “you’re a boy inside” I reply “because my father raised me like a son.” I am tired of hearing about the gender roles. I want to be fearless like a male but I know that a male fakes his cowardice by acting vigilant and a female, hides her valor with the veil of fragility. I don’t want to cake myself with makeup just because I am a female and I have to look presentable for the world. They measure my worth with the pressed crease of my clothes and the lipstick shade I wear. They resist talking to me in my messy clothes and face full of acne and breakouts. They don’t judge my intellect on the basis of huge piles of books that I’ve read or the records that I lip sync on. They dread me when they come to know that I am an introvert and I don’t go to outdoor places. They call me bore and psychopath because they consider my thoughts negative and lethal. They easily discard the goodness in me and let my mood swings outweigh the former. They hurt me, I won’t lie. The worst part is they make me dread myself the most. They take me out of my shell, get some amusement and throw me. And left me in the dungeon of my endless contemplations. They convert my life into Intransitive. They really do!

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