Friday, February 9, 2024

Flaws

There is this way of talking to someone even when they are not around. Because you want to share every tiny detail of your life with them. 

And so she found herself talking to him in her head, telling him stories from her life and how they impacted her way of thinking, her personality. So he would see her. Really SEE her. And love the REAL her. Not some mystery version he created in his head. In reality though, the more she shared, the less interested he became. There was no longer an air of mystery about her. Nothing more to explore and win over. We don't want people to sit naked in front of us all day. We want them to wear pretty clothes that mask their flaws. 

We want room for adding our own lies to someone's personality. 

And so she knew she had lost him. Sure he gave a polite nod, an appropriate remark here and there. But no statement of real depth, of understanding. He was too lost in his own vanity to care. This is a world of pretty things. Bare ugly nakedness had no place here. You either put on your mask and join the herd or get left behind. So many of us have chosen to be good looking manufactured book covers with empty pages because our real pages with scrawly handwriting are torn and tattered and hidden away somewhere. 

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Flashback

Would you talk to me as I sleep,

Would you tell me I'm safe

In your arms

As we hold hands and our fingers intertwine

Would you tell me about your regrets

And dreams and struggles

Would you give me that one moment that belonged to just us

Before you'd leave forever

Would you hold me tight and keep talking 

As I fall asleep, knowing you are right there 

Knowing you are mine and I am safe

Atleast for this night

Would you hold me and talk as I drift off to sleep

In a moment that would soon become a memory.

Wednesday, June 14, 2023

Rogue

 She had nowhere to go and no one to take help from. And now she was old. This was her. A 34 year old lady who had suddenly gone rogue and decided to walk on a path  that made no sense. That had no road. And she kept going because it appealed to her. It called to her. It asked her to keep going. May be it ended in nothing. May be it ended in a beautiful tree or a river. May be she'd meet a sweet creature or an animal would devour her. And that night she could hear the wolves howling and the dogs barking but she didn't know what to do. She was alone in an unknown place and she felt foolish. She felt alone and no one was there to help and no one to blame but herself.

An ant crawling over her hand suddenly woke her up. Here she was. She really was near a river, she could hear it now. Loud and clear. And birds chirping and a pleasant breeze with the fragrance of flowers. How weird was it that the same path that made her weep bitterly at night, made her wonder at the glory of the universe when it was day.

Friday, January 27, 2023

Empty Room

I realised that no room is empty enough for me. But when I write I can build myself a truly empty room and here I have solace. I can be alone with my thoughts for a second and be whoever I want to be without worrying about the rules of the world. 

Once when I tried to ask for help by trying to harm myself, someone asked me "Are you still a kid? Do you think we are playing around here?" Well, yes. I think I never matured into an adult. I kept playing. 

Like an abandoned child, I keep looking for adults who would sit with me and see how beautiful my fantasy world is. And what if we could somehow make it a reality? A world where someone actually loves you for who you are and not who they want you to be. A world where you can sing when you want, paint when you want and write when you feel like it. A world where no one will come and tell you that's not important or that's not what "fun" is supposed to be.

Friday, December 23, 2022

Layers

 If we take off the layers of pain, layers of worries, layers of memories and people we can't let go of - if we take them all off and keep them aside, just for a second, we would realise that we are actually happy excited kids looking forward to a fun day. 

If we could just stay with that child for some time every day. I don't know what would happen, but it sure feels like relief. And why shouldn't we stay with that feeling? Isn't that meditation though? Pure existence without any burdens, just breathe in and breathe out. 

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Two sides

Growing up, music had always been like that elusive guy out of my league, that I had a huge crush on.  I would stalk him, chase him, be secretly jealous of anyone else he spoke to. He would speak to me as well - gently, charmingly at times but only once in a blue moon. Leaving crumbs for me to relish. Then I'd wait for another eternity for him to look back at me. It happened too but lasted again for a very short time. Yet I could never stop hoping. And things haven't changed much still. He talks to me more now than he used to and I am still that teenage girl around him. Still as obsessed. I don't think i am ever going to stop chasing.

Yet in all these years someone else has been my stark companion. Somehow I took him for granted. But he's always been there. In my darkest of times, he came as a book or blog or journal to write into and he'd listen quietly, without judgement. At times he would talk back or give advice, "Don't make excuses, find a way." he would say or "This man is not good for you. Cut him off before he harms you more."  And on other days he would reward me with a beautiful poem or story that awed me. How could I have written something so good. It was obviously someone else writing through me. He would have done more if i had given him a chance but I'd always chased music instead. He has almost left me now. No more rewards. He still listens but never replies. He's there, he knows I know that. But he's tired of being ignored. 

Saturday, June 1, 2019

No Desire To Talk

I don't want to talk anymore,
What do words mean any way.
Let's all just sit together and let the music play,
As we sit in silence, let the music communicate,
Let's live in honesty and purity.
Our human minds, most of them,
Don't have the words to translate -
this purity into conversation,
We will corrupt it with lies, with shallow assumptions, with ego,
Let the depth of the music remain,
I have no desire to talk anymore,
Because it can't really communicate.