Saturday 18 August 2018

I know you.

Hi there,

Probably we have never talked or met. I don't know your story. I don't know what you are up to. I don't know what you do, or where you live, or anything else about you.

But I know, when night dawns upon the earth, you let out a heavy, tired sigh. You think you are all alone. Days are long, and you get through them somehow. It's not like you don't have friends, you do. But there's a lot inside you that they have no idea about. You are all smiles throughout, and you don't brush away the chances you get to socialize. You're always in. But it tires you, doesn't it? Being around people who know you, and yet somehow don't. They know the pretty face of you: the smile and laugh and all that you show. The mask, yes, that's all they know and they have no idea there's more to you. But you know, it isn't their fault. You don't show it, because you think they won't understand. Or because you feel it's a super big deal, letting someone inside your little shell.

Your shell: where you are you and no one else exists. A place where you drift off​ at times during the day, zoning out of your life. Your happy place. And even though you are alone there, you don't feel so. But being surrounded by people all day? Yes, that's what loneliness feels like. You have already decided to struggle. One day at a time. To fight against-

You. You are whom you fight against. You are your greatest friend, and your worst enemy. You are what makes you happy and you are what deprives you of it. You are strange, you think. You don't fit into this world, this world that never stops. You don't talk about what you feel because you think it'll make you feel it even more. So finally when the day is over, you sigh not because you didn't have a good one, but because the struggle for today is done. There's a new day tomorrow, new sunshine, new... A new struggle. It's tiresome, it drains you out.

Nights are peaceful, aren't they? The world slows down, quietens down, and you are your company. At times, you grieve and cry and let it out, but the others, when you yourself have no idea of what you feel, they're the hardest ones. Numbness surrounds you and you don't know what to feel. You make up poems and songs and sketches and try to create something in the form of art because that's what you do. To let things out, to free yourself from the burden that you have on your heart. You create art.

People even appreciate it but they don't know the wounds that you reveal through your art. There are some people who even think that they have you all figured out, and why wouldn't they? You don't show the depth of your feelings to them. People who are your friends, are not really friends, they're mere acquaintances because you're too scared to let anyone come close to you. You listen to what they talk and what they vent but you never say a word about yourself. It's all just inside.

You think nobody knows you. But you're wrong. I do. I know you.

Monday 25 June 2018

Unnoticed

She had a twinkle in her eye, the kind you'd not notice unless you stare into it. Standing alone, she clutched a book in her hands: holding it against her chest, almost hugging it. In the crowd of thousands, she'd easily go unnoticed because she wasn't the prettiest one around, or the best dressed, or the one who'd say something mind-blowing that'd stick by you through tomorrow and even after that. In fact, she looked the exact opposite. She was unapologetic: even though she was a mess, she owned every part of it, and all her attributes simply accentuated it. Her unmade hair, her clumsy demeanor, her long-strained, sleep-deprived eyes, everything made her who she is, and I, I just looked at her from a distance as she stared into blankness.

She sighed a lot, I observed. Was she tired? Maybe, but of what? Each time she breathed, her eyes seemed to startle, yet focusing the stare into her blankness firmly. When she exhaled, her lips parted a little, almost alternatively. She stood fixated, unmoving, undecided. It was a treat to watch her though. My eyes seemed to have locked themselves on her.

Time and again, it seemed like she almost realized to have zoned out, and she'd try and come back to the present moment, but I reckon she must've drifted off too far to return to now. She looked like the one who'd be really shy in large crowds of mere acquaintances; what she craves is a soul connection. She'd look up and around oftentimes, maybe when she'd try to come to right now, but her thoughts seemed to catch up fast and grasp her back. She was lost. She was the girl who you'd easily miss out on, but once you did see her, you'd not want to look anywhere else. She had the charisma, I think she'd keep you hooked once you start a conversation with her. But would you be able to say anything when you know those eyes that are so lost right now would be looking into yours? I wonder.

She was the girl who'd go unnoticed, because you'd always hear the loudest person in the room, but in her head, I bet she has things louder than that going on, and someday she'll find people who'd be intrigued, and one day, she will be heard.

I wanted to go near her, towards her, try to get to know her, maybe strike a conversation: hear her voice. It was strange, she didn't look like someone who'd participate in a talk with some random stranger like me; but it wasn't like that. She'd gotten me hooked. I imagined me going up to her and her looking at me, her eyes throwing some magical invisible light at me, emancipating me from everything with just that one look. But I decided against it; just watching her was so pure, I couldn't taint it with reality. I looked at her for the last time, tried to capture the image of her face in my memories, and walked away.

Thursday 5 April 2018

A fable

I look at my blue shoes as I walk, with earphones put up, some random music playing so loud that it disconnects me from the world. It's day-time, burning hot, beads of sweat are dripping past my left eyebrow. I don't like summers.


Mindlessly, I look around as I reach the bus stop. The crowd is usual, all the known faces staring at each other, trying to make decent small talks that I'm not a part of. I'm not really interested in talking to anyone here, it's too mainstream and I'm too lazy. Pointless conversations seem to bore me. All I want to avoid is normalcy; I want something extraordinary, something epic that I'll be a part of. As I'm lost in my thoughts, scanning every face, I see him.


He's wearing a beanie, has rather long hair for a guy, and has put on a loose t-shirt and a track pant. He doesn't look quite aware of the people around him, and neither is anyone else there affected by his presence. He's standing alone. He looks visibly uncomfortable and itchy; something must be bothering him. I want to ask him but I don't -- I don't have the guts to do so. He's a stranger and I cannot just walk up to him and ask him what's wrong. Maybe I could, but I don't want to. I'm scared. He has pretty, green eyes that sparkle a little as he looks up and around, but most of the time he's just staring at the ground, maybe thinking something too hard. His eyebrows often seem to rise and in turn creases form on his forehead, and that actually makes him look really adorable.


I realise I'm staring at him, so I look away. I think he saw me looking at him. It's awkward, as I think we'll board the same bus. I just hope he doesn't come up to me and talk. I don't want to be babbling the first time I talk to a guy I found cute in ages.


I'm this socially awkward person, really uncomfortable in groups. I can talk one-to-one very easily, but this guy is really cute. That's exactly where my anxiety kicks in, making it rather difficult for me to utter one single meaningful, comprehensible sentence out of my damned mouth. I'm not holding myself back; it's just that I can't.


My mind races about how much I really liked the guy even though he was caught up all in himself, and how much I want to go up to him and talk to him, but my feet seem to have locked themselves to the ground, making me helplessly unable to move. Even though I feel like going up to him, I decide against it.


My bus arrives and I get on, but he doesn't. My heart sinks, I really wished he'd come aboard, but that's okay. I'll probably never see him again and he'll just be a story I'd tell my friends someday.  He stares at the bus as it goes by, and I look at him until I can't see him anymore. Later I feel like I was creepy, but what's done is done and I can't change that. Neither am I going to meet him ever again, so it doesn't really matter. I'm very convenient that way.


                                                            ***


The next day, I'm hoping I don't see him again, considering the obvious fact that I made a fool out of myself the last time. He would think I'm an idiot, which I actually am, but I don't like to confront it through other people. A part of me also wants to see him, why would I not want to see a perfectly amazing person like him? But I'm reluctant to face him, when I'm not even sure if I'm even going to face him or not, and it's just weird.


I walk up to the bus stop hesitantly. I look around, I don't see him. As I'm about to let out a relieved sigh, I spot him, making it really confusing for me as to if I should be happy about it or no. He looks exactly like he did the last time, same clothes, the beanie, confused look concentrated on the ground.


'Shit!' I mumble and look here and there, to find something to hide behind. He shouldn't see me today, not today -- at any cost. I'll let a few days pass and he'd forget me, and then I can start all over again with no previous embarrassment. But there's nothing -- nothing I can hide behind, nobody I can talk to. I take out my phone and pretend to be busy on it, when I'm not even sure if he's even looking at me, let alone if he remembers me as the girl from yesterday.


But what the hell, right? So what if he remembers me? I have to take chances in life, how else will the extraordinary stuff I’m missing out on right now happen to me? I deep breathe, which doesn’t help at all, and I decide I’m going to go talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen? ‘He could hear me.’ Monica’s words sound in my mind like a reflex, and I giggle.


But I’ve decided now. That’s it, I’m going to talk. I gather all the courage I have from every fibre that is there in my body and start walking in his direction. He’s still busy staring at the ground. My heartbeats pace up with every step I take ahead, and despite the loud cacophony, I can hear the thuds of it.


I reach up to him – he’s standing right in front of me, and I’m too nervous, and I know I’m going to do what I do best – blabber. I’m still not giving up though. I muster up all my valour, and I’m surprised at how painfully weird my voice sounds when I say –


“Hi, I’m Alisha. I just happened to see you yesterday and I was hoping we could talk but you didn’t get on the --”


He cuts me off with a dead look on his face as he looks up to me from the ground, aghast. To make sure I'm talking to him, he looks behind him and then again at me, and I point a finger towards him as to confirm it for him that it is, in fact, him who I'm talking to. His green eyes reflect the sunlight from the afternoon skies, and he looks at me with perplexed expressions and total horror.


“You shouldn’t be able to see me.” He finally says.




Thursday 29 March 2018

Transition

Up above, all I see is darkness. It's so painfully beautiful -- the moon shines bright, waning crescent, almost full. There are millions of stars shining submissively as the moon takes up the show, but there's one star in particular that somehow doesn't lose itself in the populace. At considerable distances, they flicker constantly, nearly perfecting an illusion. You just cannot concentrate on all the gleaming at once. These stars, they shine in shades of white. They shimmer sheepishly, very unsteady, but it looks peaceful. It's such solitude in just laying back and looking up to the sky, with beauty dripping from the dark. The sky looks like a black canvas with glittery white paint splatters all over it, making it an ultimate masterpiece. Night sky, I tell you, is pure art.
It's like the sky is trying to embrace you in its arms, you feel the solace you'd feel in a lover's arms, absolute. It's as though it's trying to tell you the secret of everything, and even though you don't understand it, you know that you know it now.
The night is almost over; the moon has almost set now, breaking the dawn. The darkness seems to have lessened too, it's getting brighter now. People have started coming out, some walking, some on bikes. In the near buildings, I can see lights being turned on. The day is officially beginning. But there's some weird scare in letting go of the moon, the night, the darkness. It's almost slipping away, and I can't hold it. That's what scares, I can't hold on to it, but the dawn is every bit as beautiful as the intense dark night, and the day is on. The sky feels lonely without the moon, almost as if the stars would miss it.
The sun is going to rise soon, the anticipations have started. It seems as if the black canvas has its edges smudged by a dash of orange now, and it's spreading. In the distant background, I hear the barking of the dogs, the chirping of the birds, and also vague but noticeable noises of the very few vehicles that are out on the road.
The sky is now turning an undetermined shade of blue as well, beauty peaking top. It's as if the sky's now divided in two parts -- one side, it's still dark, the stars are still shining, fighting the light that's coming from the other side of it, where the day is about to break, making the stars at that side of sky disappear.
It's all in various shades of only blue now, ranging deeper in intensity as my sight moves from east to west. And before I know it, it's day. The sun has started to rise, a chill's filled in the atmosphere, and the darkness has completely vanished, as if it was never there. Instead of the bright, vibrant moon, now I see a fulfilling, lively sun, and the only thing I learn from this is letting go ain't so bad, because every end is another beginning, and every beginning can be as beautiful as the dawn breaking into the day.

Saturday 17 March 2018

Beyond words.

Hi,

I know we have just met. I know we haven't known each other for that long. There are millions of things we still have to discover about each other, I know we're still almost strangers who happen to know each other just a little.

But, oh! My life has changed drastically since I met you. For good, of course. You made me realize the simple fact that after every dark night, the day dawns and its every bit can be as beautiful as you believe it to be. It's funny how someone can have a such a deep impact on me in the so very little time that we've known each other.

You came into my life when I was an absolute mess, had hit the rock bottom, but knowing you has made me see that the only way to go from a rock bottom is up. You've been with me when I was finding myself, in the most inconvenient circumstances. And there are no words that can encompass the intensity of my gratefulness.

You get me, there's no other way to put it. I can be me when I'm with you and you'll know. There's no pretending to be good when I'm not, no holding back. Life has become beautiful because of your presence, for when I'm with you, I'm more me. I laugh more when with you.

It's probably a very cliché thing to say but I really thank my stars that made me come across someone as extraordinary as you. You've been my light through the dark, the colors on the canvas of my life, because without you, I was just plain. You came and made me the art I have become today. You've added joy to my being, happiness to my heart. I'm a better person with and because of you. Everything I do or don't do is just an attempt of showing you how much you mean to me because lately, what I'm feeling for you is beyond words, yet I'm trying to gather some and make sense out of it.

When I look at you, I see strength. I see the person who always pushes me beyond my limits because you believe in me. And you've believed in me when even I didn't. I am what I am because of you. I have transcended beyond my grief and let go of things that were poking me just because I knew you'd be there to catch me when I fall. And look how I fell -- for you!

"You're my living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe in better things." You've revived me. You made me feel connected -- to the world, to you, to myself somehow. I feel eternal and full of energy because of you. You made me believe that the ones who want to will always climb the walls I've built around myself, no matter how tall those are. I was the person who always just wanted to be done with the day, but now, here I am, hoping and looking forward to a new day, every day, with you by my side. I don't intend for this to get all cheesy but that's all I can do, all I have is words. And I won't let go.

I have happy 3 ams because of you now, when in the past, I used to be drenched in my tears and agony. You healed me in places I thought I'd have wounds forever. You're my adventure, and also my calm. You have been the one thing I have done right in my life, and no matter how much I write, I don't think I'll ever put things I feel in my heart into words.

It all comes down to this -- I am me because you have been you.

- Someone who loves you.

Monday 5 March 2018

I'm not the girl people fall in love with.

A stupid, desperate attempt to write a poem. Here it goes.

I won't say I'm not beautiful, because I am, but in a different way.
I will make your insides whirl but won't let you have a say.
I'll make you think, I'll make you cry.
I'll play with words, you'll know I'm sly.
I'll be your spring, and also your rain.
I'll be your cure, but also your pain.
I'm not like her, I'll never be.
... Maybe I'm not the girl people fall in love with.

You'd forget the world when you're with me.
I'll give you strength, but you'll go weak in your knee.
Fierce and powerful, my love you'll see.
I'm a lone wolf, that's how I'll always be.
My words like fragrance will stick by.
Once you drown in my truth, you won't lie.
See? I'm not like her, I'll never be.
... Maybe I'm not the girl people fall in love with.

My words like arrows will hit your heart.
Your soul will churn, like pricked by a dart.
I'll be your rainbow, even on your sunny days.
You'll see how I'll love you, in a million ways.
I'll kiss your scars, then scratch them more.
Then I'll be your band-aid, stick to the core.
I'm still not like her, I'll never be.
... Maybe I'm not the girl people fall in love with.

Even after long, in your memories I'll stay.
I'll shine bright, like the day's first sun ray.
I'll run my hand through your hair,
You'll love me, but you will be scared.
Half the time, you'll skip a beat,
When we'll be one, you'll feel my heat.
Am I like her yet? You know I'll never be.
... Maybe I'm not the girl people fall in love with.

Wednesday 28 February 2018

Bit by bit

They say falling in love sweeps you off your feet, and it's all sparks and fireworks, and you're just so very taken over by them, and it's all fierceness and passion. It's all butterflies in the belly and go weak in your knee kind of feeling.

That, no doubt, is an amazing feeling, but nobody talks about the love you gradually fall into. You start seeing the humour in their bad jokes, the intellect in their show off, the wit in their puns.

Slowly, you start noticing things you didn't pay attention to before, like the color of their eyes, the way their lips curve, the way they eat, talk, smell, be. You realize how blind you were to miss out on something as extraordinary as this.

It's the best kind of love, I think. You discover each other, there's friendship. There's a connection that grows deeper with time as you explore them, get to know them -- bit by bit. This love, you don't fall in; you walk into it, in all your senses and sobriety, and then your world turns upside down because you realize you have gotten something you never expected. Something so powerful, it defies words.

Monday 29 January 2018

Now that -

Now that you're gone, I find myself searching for you in every person I meet. My eyes long for just a glance of your reflection in someone- anyone, but I don't find it. My heart is untamed but it still is caged in your memories, the ones you left me with, devoid of you, devoid of your love. I'm a strong person but now that I'm alone, that's just something I have to be. Because I wouldn't know what to be, if not strong. I show resilient, because why the hell not? I am fucking resilient but you, YOU don't go away. Somehow you're stuck in that part of my heart which I've locked forever, without realizing you're still in it. And now I realize that's a terrible mistake I made, because now that you're no longer in my life, having you in my heart fucks me up. I don't even think about you, because that's a barrier I've put up for myself, but when I do, I pour. I over-flow because I always have had the habit of being too much, giving too much, wanting too much, feeling too much, but now that I'm left with so little of me for myself, I wish I'd not been too much for you, because you've consumed me. You've consumed me in an incomprehensible way, something even I don't understand. I never ask why you broke me, because I don't regret you, because if I do, I'd hate you and I don't want to, but now that I think about you, I think you deserve all the hate. I should hate you and curse you and curse the world and everything and everyone, but I just don't. I hate the fact that I don't hate you. I hate the fact that I still have that soft spot for you in my dead heart even after you put me through so much. I wait for days for you to drop a text saying you miss me, or a call you'd say you dialled by mistake but it'd be just because you wanted to hear the sound of my voice, maybe you'd show up someday at my doorstep, saying you're sorry, asking for my forgiveness for what you did to me, but now that I imagine it, I feel I don't want you to do any of it. I don't want you back in my life because I'm out of what was devouring me for once, why'd I ever want to do that to myself again? I've been through hell and back but now that I'm here, I think it's just made me stronger, better. And maybe I needed to break, to be whole again, picking up all my pieces and forming my own perfect jigsaw again with all the pieces, none missing. Not even you because now that I know you're not mine anymore, I realize you never were.