END OF AN ERA (Part 2: Pain, Forgiveness & Letting Go)

Coming to the harsh parts; I was heartbroken and crumbling under stresses. Wallowing in self-loathing, being unable to let go of the pain of betrayals and disappointments. In my head, I was pretending just fine. But apparently, this time I could not do a very good job.

I was sitting alone on the swing placed in far corner of the living room, lost in my thoughts. One of my cousin came and sat next to me and out of the blue asked me, “Z why are you so sad? What happened?”. I was shook by his sudden blunt question. I stared at him in shock. Initially I thought he was just messing with me, so I said, “No I am not. Why would you say that? Who told you?”


“Then how do “YOU” know?”.

“I just know.”

“How? Are you pulling my leg? Did somebody put you up to this?”

“No, why would I joke about this. I can see it on your face. Tell me. Why are you so sad. Who hurt you?”, he said looking me in the eyes.

I still could not believe him. Cuz I least expected it from him to see it. I kept gruelling him to the point of annoyance about who told him, how did he figure out or was he just reverse psychology’ing me to get the information out of me. He was adamant about my sadness being so obvious and considering the fact that we knew each other since diapers, he could totally see it.

“You’ve been hurt, right? This past year something has changed, right? What is it?” and I was dumbfounded, unable to tell him anything. “Z you have to talk about this. Have you talked to anybody? You can tell me. ”

Another cousin also said the same thing to me about looking stressed. He also kept asking me what’s wrong. Another family member also said, I look like I’m having anxiety. And quiet frankly I was. My grandmother passed away this year in April. She was a center-point for the whole family and her loss took a tremendous toll on everybody, including me. There were other things going on in my life (on a much serious and personal level) I had no control over whatsoever and I felt like free falling. Things were building fast and I felt crushed. I was like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode any minute under the weigh of it all and that is exactly what happened. My insecurities were falling over me like broken mountains and I was getting crushed under the weigh of it all. The high rise mountains took years to hold their ground- strong and firm, and when the earth beneath my feet crumbled, so did they. Shook to their core.

On my way back from another city after my Grandmother’s death, I was on the verge of emotional breakdown. Somethings happened before I left and that triggered the long kept emotions. I had not cried with my heart full in a while. And this time the dam was breaking while I was hanging by a thread. All through my long journey back I was holding back the tears. I knew once I cry I wont be able to stop for a long while. when my dad came to pick me up from the bus station, I sat in the car trying to keep my emotions in check. He asked me how my time there was and what did I do there etc. I kept quiet not answering the first few times he asked me this question cuz I knew the moment I open my mouth, words will spill and so will my tears. I barely cry in front of anybody even my parents. But this time, the flood of pain was too much for me to hold inside of me and I broke. I cried during the whole 45 min ride back home. And kept crying even after I reached. I said a lot of things to my dad that should not have been said. But at that point I did not care. Probably cux things needed to be said. And there was no way this could have been avoided.

There are moments of strength hidden within the most painful of experiences. There was this one last time of absolute shatter, absolute heart break, absolute pain. I sat with my back to the wall trying to catch my breath between sobs. I looked at my friend with swollen eyes, “What’s wrong with me?Why can’t I stop crying?” I asked her after unsuccessfully trying to stop my tears since past 3 hours. She looked down for few seconds thinking, looked up and replied with careful consideration; “Z you’re just immensely disappointed. You were lowkey expecting and you probably didn’t know.”

I laughed as tears uncontrollably started to roll down my cheeks again. “Wow. This is so ironic. Every single thing I did and said up until now, every single plan of action… was just to save myself from getting disappointed. yet here I am. Hurt to my very core.” I am glad I had a friend with me that day. The first time someone was physically there for me. I just could not stop crying. Every time I would try, tears would betray me. The pain crashing into my heart like ocean waves and I felt like I was drowning. I put my head in her lap and said through the sobs, “I feel like I let people use me…I let them.” I just could not get over the pain of what had just happened. Basically, me letting the same thing happen to myself over a hundred times.

That was the day I knew I had enough. Enough of being used. Enough of being treated like a recyclable trash. I finally did find the strength in me to take care of myself. As much painful and scarring as the whole time had been, I find peace in knowing that life is really fair and nothing goes unaccountable. Maybe some day I will find forgiveness in me, for my past and for my present. But I have not. Not yet. I’d be lying if I said I did. This is not a happy ending. But it is an ending at least. An ending I have to accept as it is.

If anybody knows me, they know I’m an overthinker. I overthink to the point of self-destruction. That is one thing I’ve been learning to deal with because it has made me nothing but miserable. I will not say I found the most healthy way out of this chronic overthinking cycle. But I found the only way I could. I shut myself out to every human interaction. I discovered the more I socialize and the more I talk to people, the more I tend to think over and over. So I keep a lot of emotional distance now. Anything to keep me from getting disappointed from people I cared the most about. And now it feels like I’ve managed to build this wall around me where I don’t allow anybody to see me emotionally vulnerable although many people confide in me for their emotional support. There are a lot of things that stress me out, that generally shouldn’t, because I cannot deal with stress anymore. Everything seems to spill out of my glass of patience because its already overflowing.

When I see my whole life spread out in front of me, and I see where I am right now? It’s a scary scary thought. I know one thing for sure that if this is how I continue to be, things are only gonna go downhill from here. I know things need to be changed and confronted on a much deeper level of understanding than I can understand alone. So for the first time, I’ve found the enough strength in me to seek some help. I am ready for the repercussions if it comes to that. But I am making an effort to save and change myself. I would be thankful if you send positive vibes my way for this new journey and help me understand & bid farewell to an era. Maybe I shall be back soon to pick up this baby of mine from where I left it off. But first I’m gonna try to take care of myself. This time for real. With actions. Because actions always prove why words mean nothing.

END OF AN ERA (Part 1: Conflicts & Lessons)

It’s been a long time since I have written anything coherent regarding my feelings and even longer since I have posted here on my blog. I’ve stopped writing for most part and when I would tell people about it all of them said one thing to me; Why? This is such a gift. To be able to put your feelings into words. Make your pain sound beautiful. So this is me trying. By the end of this two-part post I plan to achieve at least one thing; closure. Either a closure to this blog, or a closure to an era of my life. I guess we will see which one is it going to be by the end. 

The last 6 months of my university life were pretty eventful. This was the first time I was living away from home and independently, on my own. This was, for most part, one of the best period of my life. Not because it was all great but because, despite of so much drama and pain involved, I somehow emerged as a changed person finally. Not changed, as in fixed. But changed, as in stronger.

A childhood friend and I were standing on a rooftop holding sky lanterns in our hands, about to release it into the air. When she said, “wait hold on, We gotta wish for something before we do it.” so we both closed our eyes and wished. And there it went raising itself to the sky as soon as we let it go. It’s orange light seemed like hope against the black sky. We watched it fade into the night, becoming one with the stars. She turned towards me and asked, “so what did you wish for?” and I replied without a second hesitation, “To be happy”.

The one conflict most significant throughout this period was my struggle with the idea of ‘happiness’. My whole world revolved around the question ‘what is happiness’. I could not, for the life of me, understand it. Probably because it had been a long time since I had felt it. Probably because I could not comprehend why am I not happy despite of ‘seemingly’ having it all. With every single person I sat with, I used to ask them these questions, “what do you think happiness is?”, “what is happiness for you?” in desperate attempt to find some answers. I was a tangled mess. There was sadness and an obvious lack of happiness. But I lived for the moments. And these moments made me have the best time of my life.

I met so many different people, had so many amazing experiences along with some really bad ones but everything was worth it. My friend and I, once crashed some strangers wedding (we were invited but through friend of a friend and we knew nobody there except two other people). We all literally danced for 1 hour straight, ending up in a sweaty mess by the end of it. At one point even took our shoes off. Then we joined a train dance, with bride and groom on front. We danced our assess off, cuz 1)we knew nobody there and knew we were never gonna see them again either, so we went all in 2)It helped that some people on the dance floor were a bit tipsy so nobody cared what we were doing :D. It was a very memorable wedding for sure.

An extremely busy highway was once closed off due to some political protests. There was an overhead bridge which was empty as well cuz of that. Police was standing on either sides of the road monitoring. A friend and I sneaked on to the overhead bridge taking advantage of the darkness and sat in the middle of it in the shadows so nobody could spot us. We had a very deep conversation while sitting there looking over the deserted highway, scarce cars and mountains in the distance as night lights flickered. It was so beautiful, I could not stop just staring at the endless deserted highway in front of me from the top. We had to leave soon enough tho as police proceeded closer. It was quiet an adventure.

I will always remember roaming on the streets at night, eating out with almost no money in the pockets, catching an uber and just going to the first place that comes to mind. A friend took me to his (secret) favorite spot in the city. We sat on a specific corner and the whole city was widespread in front of me. It was hands down one of the best places I had been to. It was mostly quiet and very few people were roaming around as the night dawned in. It was cold winter night and we were freezing but the view was breathtaking. Breathtaking is an understatement. I could have spent an eternity there looking at the night lights; high rise distant building, cars speeding on the highways on three different sides, stadium lights flashing in the distance as the cold wind blew in my face. It felt like I was part of the night sky. The whole city looked to be immersed in million stars. The sadness in my heart acknowledging the beauty of those moments as well, while I sat on the wall trying to imprint the view into my eyes forever.

If there’s one thing I learned during this time period, it was how strong I can be. Especially two friends of mind, B and K, really helped me through it. They gave me strength when I thought I had none. It was only then I realized how insanely frail I used to ‘think’ I was. I struggled a lot with my self-worth, self-loathing and self-deterioration. There were days I was nothing but a flesh dripping with sadness unable to comprehend the person that I am. Thinking of myself as unworthy of love or care or affection. They both made me believe in myself. Of my worth. Of my ability to take decisions. I learned to see things through more positive perspective, how to take things easy and how to not give a fuck to every single person and situation in my life. I learned a lot about actions. We can apologize over and over but if our actions don’t change, the words become meaningless. You will come across so many people in your life who will claim to care for you and love you and be there for you, but there will be very few and far in between who will prove it with their actions. Actions prove who someone actually is, words just prove who they want to be.

And just like that, Somewhere along the way, my struggle with the idea of ‘being happy’ blurred away. Perhaps I accepted the sadness as a part of me. Perhaps I accepted to be content with the moments in between. Perhaps I was happy but didn’t know I was. Perhaps I stopped looking for happiness cuz I knew the answers to my questions weren’t that easy. Perhaps I knew some day I will find it but not yet. Perhaps…

Next: Part 2 (Pain, Forgiveness and letting go)

My Favourite Little Seed

This is as beautiful as it can ever get. Take notes:

(Daily post: Waiting, Glorious, Recreate

Can You Love A Sad Girl? 

Can you love a sad girl? I mean maybe you can but do you really know how? It’s easy to love her all smiling, positive and supportive. When she talks about the sun and moon and stars, how they shine and how beautiful they are. When she talks about the beautiful colour of the ocean and the limitless sky, the chirping birds and wet grass. But that’s not really her. Deep inside, in all realness, she’s just a sad girl.

Would you know how to love her still when she decides to stop pretending? When she decides to take off that mask and leave it hanging at the door for good. When she decides it’s okay not to be okay. When she decides it’s okay to be that way. When she decides there is no other way she’d rather be. Would you still love her? I mean would you know how to love her? Would you be able to stand the melancholy in her eyes and her half hearted smile?

Love her not only when she talks about the colours of the ocean but the darkness in its depth- when the fears take over.

Love her not only when she talks about the limitless blue sky but the storm that accompanies it- the hurricane of her insecurities.

Love her not only when she talks about sun moon and the stars but when she’s a little too literally a black hole herself. A galaxy within a galaxy- a confusing state of complicated mess.

Love her when the stars in her eyes lose their shine, when you see her eyes hazy with fog and dew drops. When she can’t see anything else, make her see you. Let her know that you are still here. And that you’ll always be no matter what.

Love her like the sunset; you know it will disappear but you admire it nonetheless for as long as it lasts. Love her fiercely like the dying light of the orange sun; warm and burning.

Because it’s easy to love a girl that smiles. Anybody can do that for you. She will know your worth when you still keep loving her. Actually love her more, much more than before, especially when her smile has faded among the deathly hollows of her sorrow.

So tell me can you love a sad girl ? Do you know how?

(Daily post: Structure,  educate,  priceless, Finite, waiting ) 

If Love Is Pain Then Darling, Let’s Hurt Tonight 

She holds my heart in her hands and we sit to talk. I need to feel warm and she needs to feel safe. We are quiet at the moment but stars speak. Her eyes glisten like emeralds as she flips and turns my heart in her hands carefully examining it. And I’m surprised how there isn’t even one moment of fear that crosses my mind that she might drop it. Because I know with surety she won’t.

I have never been as sure about anything in my life as I am about her. I am actually glad she has my heart in her hands because I fear it’s her touch that keeps it beating. Without her love, there will be just colourless voids and a heart that keeps forgetting to beat.

So we sat to talk. We should have talked. We could have talked. But we didn’t. Instead we just lay together staring into infinite space that looked nothing less than pure magic. I wanted her to tell me things, anything. Lot of things. Everything. Just hear her speak. But her eyes were too loud for me to hear anything else at that moment. So I stared at her while she stared at the stars.

I didn’t want us to be mere accident like something that just happens one day unexpectedly. I wanted us to be on purpose- that just has to be for a reason. I wanted to love her on purpose and not like an accident.

She was a calm whisper in a world that was too loud. And although she was a chaos herself, I knew she could calm the storm within me.

She broke her eye contact with the stars and looked at me. And all it took was flash of a second, for me to know; I’d be a fool to let her go. Because she needed me as much as I needed her. And together, we were going to heal and glue back together our broken pieces.

It has always been her and me.

All those empty cervixes inside us that echoed with scars that still bled and thunders that still ripped us apart from time to time. It has always been her and me. And we, together, were going to heal.

Hence, she holds my heart in her hands to keep it beating, while I hold her close so she can breathe easy. I’m never leaving her side nor she needs to fall because she’s already safe in my arms. She doesn’t need to break herself anymore to prove anything.

I’m sure now, it has always been; her and me. And there is no way I’d rather have it be.

(Daily post: Corner, magnetic, homage, rhyme, critical )

Pain, Love and Magic

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I looked at her as a tide rose in her eyes. She quickly looked down at her hands trying to hide it. I called her by name, holding her chin between my fingers.

She lifted up her head but her eyes betrayed her this time and tears came running down her cheeks. Like a flood which had been kept blocked for far too long, finally broke looking for its much awaited escape. Her tears spilling like rain drops on the palm of my hands.

It hit me, in the deepest part of my chest. Like her soul was being sliced open right in front of my eyes.

And In that moment, I wanted, I needed magic to exist. I wanted to let her know that happiness existed. I wanted her to know happiness and nothing else. For her to taste it on her tongue and breathe it in like air. I wanted her to smile at me with the laugh that sounded nothing less than poetry. To look at me with those bright eyes that made my stomach unfurl.

God, I couldn’t see her like that. She didn’t deserve this. Why did she have to suffer so much? In that moment in time, I had never wanted anything more in my life than for magic to exist.

I wanted, I needed her to know that I loved her. With all my heart and every ounce of strength, I would love her. Every second, every minute, every hour of the day. Till the end of times, I would love her. Till all she would know is my love. Till all that consumed her would be my love and not sadness, not pain, not suffering.

I wanted her to know I would love her even if the stars stopped shinning or the moon went dark or the sun lost it warmth. I would love her still…. with all my heart. Always.

(Daily post: CornerShiny, Solitary, Unfurl, )

Fire vs Men 

She loved starting fires. Whether it was in the belly of lost men in pub at 2am or gentlemen in the park at 2pm. All she knew was of starting fires.

She was wilderness, an inhabitable Chappell. That played unheard choirs with symphonies that told stories of all those who once visited her. She left a trail of flame behind her every time she walked away from them. Her glow was a warmth those men couldn’t resist. Even though treading too close to her meant getting a burn or two but she loved starting fires and those men loved to be set ablaze. It was more or less a mutual consent. Except of course fire also means inevitable ashes. And it was mostly always her who was slowly being reduced to one. Her footsteps were an amalgam of her ashes; pieces of her that once were and spark; pieces that still held potential. You could say she was life and death both in one.

For those men, she was just a distraction from their old boring routines. Someone who made their stagnant hearts beat a little faster in the night and made them feel more than what their sorry lives made them feel in the morning. She resurrected them from mediocrities, made them feel alive in those moments in her embrace and company. She was never more than a woman who satiated their wildest fantasies and just that.

She too liked the way she made them feel. She was someone they would always remember, like a burn marred into their memory forever but never the one to spend the rest of their lives with. It was only fair, a fire like hers was never meant to be contained. A fire if kept too long would only incinerate and devour the one keeping her captive.

She was a flame meant to spread like wildfire; Velocious, devastating and resistant.
Like a tenacious unwavering inferno, that only knew of rage and annihilation.
Swallowing everything that came her way like smoke down the windpipe of an addict.

All she knew of was starting fires. And there is only so much fire those frightened men could take before they ran for the hills. Their coward faces hid under the mask of unproved bravery. She could only laugh at their stories. Those men….only used her as a lighter to ignite their fire, only to end up leaving her to melt other candles. That’s all they could do. Their cowardliness never allowed them to be anything more than that.

They were just scared gutless boys trapped under the skin of manlihood that asked of them nothing more than words and no action. But they carried the mark of bravery like they had earned it, with their puffed up chests pointing towards the sky dripping with smugness and arrogance. Their fragile egos tender and at-stake with everything said against their will. Their pride as easily bruised as their spineless existence- Condescending and conceited.

A mark of bravery they owned like a heirloom but never earned, not even close. So it was only fair when they ran the other way on the sight of fire which threatened their superiority. They were never the ones to fight in the battle field but the ones to flee from it at the first sign of danger and gunfire. Ducking their heads like nothing will ever hurt them if they didn’t look and kept walking. Those men only knew how to save themselves and they were good at it.

Nobody really knew the potential her fire contained. She might have burned a man or two but she scalded herself just the same. Her fire only flamed higher and higher until it reached the blue sky and made it red. Until the sky too caught her fire and rained flames.

(Daily post: ElementalPrickle)

To Be Loved Like A Poet Loves its Poem.

She will touch you with fingers so cold you will wonder why ice wasn’t named after her yet she will set your skin ablaze. She will look at you like art piece. Analyze every crease on your face when you laugh and every grimace when something displeases you.

She will look at you like a path that keeps unfolding and she’s treading blind. Oblivious of what’s to come but woefully expectant of what’s ahead. She will explore you. She will show you what’s its like to be loved as a poet loves its poem.
And believe me, she will love you like a poem.
She’s the type to turn you into poetry.

She will see into your eyes and imagine a thousand stars bursting; into dreams that are made up of all that you are, all that you were and all that you are suppose to be. She will consider you a galaxy with shooting stars and meteor showers.

You will tell her things and she will listen to you. And she will stare at you until you tell her how her gaze is so unnerving. But she’s only looking at you like words that are left unsaid because nobody has been courageous enough to write them down on paper yet. Because those are the words not everybody can imagine writing every day.

So she will love you like a poet but you will have to love her back like a poem; gently, kindly and courageously. For a broken heart might shoot ink into her veins but it will kill a part of her, that she will never be able to recover again.

People like her lose their pieces one by one until one day they find themselves empty. After all there is a reason, why poets die young.

(Daily post: Texture, Shimmer, Amble, )