I’m Still Here

Recently I’ve been too blocked to pen down the rumples in my mind and make sense of my brain. Too much has happened to me this summer and I mentally kick myself every time I think about all of it for not journaling on a daily basis, because those moments of gold and grey are beginning to fade away already. Even if I start collecting those frames of memory now, I know it wouldn’t be in its true authenticity and essence.

I’ve had my life altered in one too many ways, which is an oxymoron because I still do the same things I did before the metamorphosis. The only difference is that now I’m mentally aware of how ridiculous I’m being or how utterly unchangeable I am. So what is the underlining moral of this insane summer I’ve had? Like my thoughts about almost everything in my life, I don’t know. Yet. I think I’m going to use this blog as my saving grace to unknot my frazzled mind.

So what’s the point of this utterly cryptic blog post? I don’t know that either. Maybe it’s just my way of rippling the water around my afloat body in the lake to say I’m not dead yet. That Girl in the Fray is still here.

That’s How I Know You are the One

When we are together you make me feel like my mind is free and my dreams are reachable

You know I never ever believed in love,

I believed one day that you would come along and free me.

These lyrics to the beautiful Kodaline song caress my heart and soul, as I’m in this half asleep mode where the world seems so pretty and my body is ready to embrace the words of a lullaby serenading me to sleep. I’m breathing in the air and letting it cleanse my mind and praying this stillness lasts forever.

I’m waiting for these lyrics to come true one day when I’m ready to surrender my heart and be vulnerable again. To gauge the depth of the whole other worldly process of baring your true soul to someone and let their opinions about its edges and contours matter, I’ve learnt that I’m not really ready for it right now. This past year has taken its toll on me and lead to my metamorphosis into someone who doesn’t care about minute things and hurtful words that would evaporate in their essence in barely any time. It has taken a tremendous effort and a lot of rivers and rain to become who I am at the moment. I’ve let the sentiments that had been seething in me out and buried them six feet under. I refuse to have to start from the scratch again, at least for now.

Today, as I was having lunch with a few friends, listening to one of my favourite songs play made me transcend the realms of the four walls and I had an epiphany; I realized how music was something that cracked my facade of stoicism and filled me up with emotions I thought I had become numb to. This then lead me to another avenue and I decided something: I had to save all of these emotions for the time when I would need to share them with the only person I ever want to share them with. I’ve never really made a mixtape for any person in my life, nor will I ever until I find The One to whom I’ll feel safe enough to bare my soul. I’m saving up all these feelings and all these little moments of thorough spectacular spectacles in the form of playlists for every speck of the kaleidoscope, for when I’m feeling on top of the world, for when I feel like I need to vent my frustration, for when I’m feeling blue or red or black or purple. And the only person who will ever have a right over them will be The One who makes my heart feel like it’s summer.

The Mirrored Avowal

The lull before the night of the storm shatters her deep slumber

A sharp intake of breath, awoken, she steps on her broken rose coloured glasses in a lumber

She runs through the empty halls, her feet leaving behind crimson dreams on the floor

She stops in front of the gold gilded mirror, breathless, lost to the core

A sarcastic laugh leaves her lips as she notices the crinkles near her eyes

For she knows her soul is but a barrel of unfermented wine

Standing there, she is wide awake now to the numbness flowing through her veins

A heart blind to roses, but not to the thorns and the pain

The darkness, the confusion, the entrapment in a dungeon sans the light

Her bare legs buckle on the cold floor, she is damaged beyond her might

Frustrated, she punches the mirror hard

Blinded by tears, with a crimson palm she lifts a shard

Cuts off her hair piece by piece, the silky locks wither and float down

She has lost the sanctuary she knew, her safe haven is tattered like her white gown

She stands up and walks, for now ends her life in pastel

In the moonlight, she steps barefoot into the world outside her castle.

The piercing cold, her new comrade, she embraces.

The Mirrored Avowal

The Mirrored Avowal

Escaping the Labyrinth

It is a truth well acknowledged that I usually write when I’m horribly lost among the horrible monsters that reside in my brain. So that makes it reasonably important to tuck away little pieces of sunshine so that I can dig them up when I feel like I’m floating about without a center of gravity.

Time and again I’ve been forced to acknowledge the fact that things mostly never turn out the way you want them to and more often than not disappointment is a constant comrade. As W.B Yates says, “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.”

Quoting something I read recently, “The Buddha knew one thing science didn’t prove for millennia after his death: Entropy increases. Things fall apart.” I guess the only way to survive life is to accept that the world is ephemeral. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing stays the same forever. So depending on anything, or anyone for that matter, is sheer foolishness.

So how do you “escape the labyrinth” of never ending suffering and torment? To answer Alaska Young’s question, you hold on. You hold on to things of beauty, to moments of clarity, to stories and sentiments of epicness and save them in your heart forever. You etch them in your mind, save them in ink and paper, carve them, treasure them and never let them escape. When your sky is dark and the earth is shaking your bed, when your hope is at its end, you relive these moments, draw strength from them and build your broken self up again.

Half Past One on a Summer Night

I sighed a sigh on a summer night

the moon in its half innocence right in the corner of our eyes

the warmth radiating through our palms and finger intertwined

the freshly cut grass sweetly stinging my calves

we saw a firefly dissolve into the kingdom of the stars

they glistened and reflected in his eyes, his eyes that were made for mine

His coat on my shoulders, his voice humming my favourite song

I closed my eyes, I’d never felt so happy to be lost

the musky breeze messed my meticulous locks

I didn’t bother, my hands were right where they belonged

he pushed the hair out of my eyes and laughed

I smiled, knowing the universe and I were one

I was where I was meant to be

I was right where I finally belonged

 

 

 

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People

Sometimes in life (almost all the time for me, actually) one goes through something I like to call the “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” phenomenon. It is characterized by those times when one really has two opposite opinions about something and the real test of the soul lies in the guess work involved. In recognizing the part of the split you that you should trust. Of my recent experiences, I can say that I’ve acted in haste, while being drenched in emotions and not seeing the complete picture. And I’ve failed at choosing the right way out.

What I’ve gone through, if I try and spell out those facts and circumstances in third person without any emotional involvement, it would actually seem like nothing too tragic or worthy of the million rain drops I’ve shed. In fact, any sane person would lecture me that people in the real world go through some real problems and my pain in comparison to theirs is like comparing the height of a sand castle to the John Hancock Center. But I’ve always felt that pain is subjective in nature. We measure the magnitude of our despair and cataclysms with reference to the things that we ourselves have gone through. We can empathize with the sufferings of others, but we can never truly understand the things they had to face and the monsters they had to slay and the beasts that almost trampled them. Or in fact did trample them. We can never truly fathom someone’s sorrow. So, telling someone that their problems really aren’t that big or worthy enough to get upset over is ethically wrong.

Pain has a definitive character unlike any other sentiment. It ends up deciding who you become. It defines who you are. When I am subject to pain and bleed furiously with battle scars that run deep and wide, I have the habit of shielding my soul and attacking back, even though the blows on my enemy take their toll on me too. I can never get over people who hurt me. I might forgive them as time passes and the memory of the pain fades a little everyday. But I can never forget, especially when the people who attack you were your own trusted friends. Why is loyalty so hard to find these days?

Another really important life lesson I’ve learnt recently is the dire need to get out of abusive relationships. Now, the dictionary meaning of an abusive relationship is “a state of affairs between two people characterized by wrong or improper¬†action, either physical or verbal.” This very well includes abusive friendships. Holding on to people who have always just used you for their benefit while being malicious towards you. People whose conduct towards you has been laced with rudeness, sarcasm and taunts. People who have dragged you down, made you more depressed and darkened your soul with their apathy and cruelty. When I look back at these past months, I’m horrified at not realizing this any sooner. I had known their conduct towards me was wrong, but instead of having the courage to walk away, I started changing myself. Stopped being bothered by their snide comments. Kept my mouth shut all the time. Never shared any of my thoughts or experiences. I remember infinite instances when I began narrating some anecdote only to stop and realize that no one even noticed that I had left the story halfway. Because they treated me like garbage and had no interest in what I had to say. They were willfully committed to misunderstanding me and still are. And the honest truth is that I don’t hate them. I hate myself for ever putting up with those fiends just because I was afraid to end up alone.

I think that is the very reason people tend to stay in abusive relationships. The fear of loneliness. The fear that maybe what lies outside the relationship is much worse than the present torment. So we deny the wrongness. We justify their conduct by pointing out mistakes in ourselves. We change ourselves to suit them, to fit into their idea of right. When actually all we should have done was stepped away from such people. It requires tremendous courage to accept the truth and move on towards uncertainty and possible loneliness. But it really is worth it.

But not all of life is cruel and untrue. I really admire the people who stepped up and stood by me in my hour of self doubt. I am indebted to their help and kind words. I wouldn’t have survived this storm of my life without their love and support. Their courage and strength is a source of inspiration to me and I will do everything in my power to be there for them when they are in need of my tattered soul. It may not be much but I promise my loyalty to them.

I’m done with people who walked away at a time in my life when everything went haywire and I lost myself for a while. I’m glad to have gone through this ordeal because everything is so clear to me now. My troubles proved to be a litmus test for me and the people around. I have realized now that at the end of the day, the people who were left standing are the ones worth dedicating yourself to. It’s like waking up from deep slumber. There is just so much beauty around me and so much to take in. I may not have too many friends, but I will fight wars for those who helped me in my battle. I will ensure that from now on, my life is a reflection of the clear peaceful sky. It might take time to reach the zenith of clarity and peace, and I will ¬†fall and stumble along the way, but I do believe that I will get there someday.

 

 

Moments of Clarity

Clouded by uncertainty of the future and callousness of the obnoxious world around me, it’s really hard to concentrate on the beauty and magic filled in every molecule of the wondrous air that surrounds the vicious calculating deceiving pseudo-smiling faces. I guess, that is exactly what makes those teeny-tiny precise moments, when beauty hits you in the face and you are overwhelmed by the design of the cosmos, precious and worth holding on to when they cease to exist.

That’s what, to summarize it, went through my mind the other day, as I sat behind the wheel listening to one of my favourite songs (Save me by Tyler Blackburn) at a dangerously high volume in my car. In that moment, as I was screaming along to it, every inch of me rejoiced and felt at peace in ways that are hard to exactly put into words to form an accurate description. But to try to do that, it was as if nothing else in the world existed, no sadness, no melancholic rhetorical questions tossing around in my mind, no awkwardness, darkness, anger, pride, nothing. Just me and what made me ecstatic. In that precise moment, I had found my elixir, my nirvana. It was a rare moment of clarity, when I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be, doing what I was meant to, as if it was sanctioned by the higher power. That feeling of belonging somewhere, of being a piece to a puzzle that fits perfectly, a thoroughly rare moment of beauty.

It’s like running in the ever soft tenderly chilling breeze, feeling the ground under your feet push you forward to reach that destination that is meant for you, getting so used to the motion that you aren’t running anymore, in fact you’re flying. Like the feelings in your heart when you spot a firefly at midnight illuminated by the effervescent moon turning grease and gold, everything good or bad to silver, hiding every ugly crevice while highlighting the hidden beauty in everything. Like paragliding over the crystal blue ocean glistening in the sun, beckoning Aphrodite to open the window of heaven and gaze at her reflection in the waters. Like lying in the grass in midsummer watching the stars shine brighter than any other worry, snide comment or cruel word ever enunciated. Like listening to your favourite song for the first time ever and waltzing around all by yourself, with your eyes shut, dreaming of another universe. Like being said the exact words your soul has always wanted to hear. When written words, scenic verses and strokes of brushes speak to you, louder than any sound ever has. When life doesn’t consist of the usual elements, but colours, sounds, smells and feelings that are heightened to an extraordinary level.

Those moments of clarity, when you know what’s happening was meant to happen all along, when you know that you’re home, even though you might be miles away from it. When every superficial thing ceases to exist, those are the true pearls of human existence. Those are the moments and sentiments close to my heart that run on the screen of my mind right before I close my eyes and fall asleep. And somehow, I just know that no matter how dark and broken everything seems right now, I’ll end up fine and happy, with the memories of these moments acting as my Polaris guiding me home in their divine shimmering light.