Rise Up


2016:

It has been both the best and worst year. Worse because I hit the rock bottom in each and every sense of the way; personally, socially, academically, spiritually, religiously. Sure I’ve been damaged in too many ways. Sure I have had my bleak days. Bad days. Dark days. Darker days. Darkest days. In a way it has been an year of disappointments after disappointments.

But the best because i couldn’t have learned the things I learned any other way. Best because now I know there is no way but up from here. Best because I know now if I survived that, I can survive anything. Best because even through everything, at the end of the day I’m filled with so much gratitude that my heart is about to explode in utter submission to His expended benevolence. I cannot be anything but thankful. I’ve realised it’s in the process of losing that we gain. But most importantly I learned to notice the collateral beauty in absolute devastation.

Today my heart is swelled with gratitude. For all the things and all the people who have extended towards me so much kindness. For God, who has never left my side despite of countless times I’ve turned my back. Despite of the times where I shut everything down and away. None of it even matters anymore since here I am standing. I’ve wobbled and stammered, fell and shattered but Here I am. Living, breathing and struggling.

Today, I’m proud of myself for making through one hell of an year. And immensely thankful for what I have, especially few friends who have been there for me through all the shit. You know who you are.
___________________

This will be my last post for a little while. I’ve a lot on my plate right now that I need to focus on for coming year. I hope for all of you the bestest year ahead. I’ll come back soon. Thank you for always being here for me. I appreciate it more than words can ever describe❤️

(Daily post: Resilient , Hopeful, Retrospective )

Hurt Me 


He shoved her against the wall. Her back hitting the concrete with a loud thud. A painful breath escaped her lips as she felt the impact surge through her back and spine. It felt like her heart crashed against her chest wall and the only reason it didn’t leap out of the cavity was because her ribs didn’t let it. And it wasn’t just the physical impact of the shove that made her feel that way.

She fell to the ground in a trembling mess as he came running to pick her up.

Oh my God. Shit shit shit. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He babbled the words trying to lift her up. “I didn’t mean it.”

She didn’t have to see the bruises to know that they had already marked her shoulders as she whimpered in pain when he touched her.

Touch.

His touch.

A part of her despised it. But a part of her still warmed up to it. A part she needed to smother. Like the way his arms were smothering her as he took her in his embrace. The embrace that now felt more like gallows than home. His arms felt like thorns etching into her skin as she tried to recoil away from him but failed to do so.

I’m so so sorry.” He kept repeating the same words.

She couldn’t cry. The pain was searing through her body in violent frenzy, running through her veins and lungs looking for an escape somehow. Only to return back to her heart in vain. She didn’t say a word and he kept spitting some more meaningless apologies as they sat on the floor in air that reeked of heartbreak and hundred broken promises. And the only thing that was kind to them in those moments was night as it stood a silent witness to their downfall. There was nothing left between them but question marks about love, if there ever was. Even ‘nothing‘ felt like a lot more than what they two had left between them now.

(Daily post: Anticipation,  Maddening)

A Thousand Deaths


She was dying a thousand deaths and I couldn’t save her from the carnage taking place right in front of me. I could see her struggle to breathe with every gasp of air that felt as thick as molten lava slipping down her throat. And she had no other option but to chug it. Let it burn holes through her windpipe with every intake.

The pain though, was in her eyes. It was an avalanche and I could see her asphyxiate under it. There was a torrent of undiluted anguish- as crude and concentrated as venom. And I could see how with every thump of her heart beat, it was being pushed down her veins and into her arteries. Deeper, deeper, deeper. Much deeper than I could ever manage to reach.

I could do nothing but sit there and watch that pain gush out of her system like flood, as an outpouring flux engulfing me. If only she didn’t have to die a thousand deaths in front of me. If only our love wasn’t a tragedy. If only saving her was as easy as holding her hand at this very moment. If only, if only, if only.

If only she would lift up her head and see me looking at her. She would understand, how somethings are not meant to be fixed. Somethings are better left broken. Because sometimes, broken is beautiful and so is she.

_______________________

Side note: This post is dedicated to everyone who has ever suffered from loss. For anyone who has known grief. For anyone who knows what it’s like to lose someone you love. Whether the loss was physical in the form of death or an emotional/metaphorical loss. I see your pain and I know how it feels❤️

(Daily post: MissingNew Horizon)

A Chaos Within

(Chaos: This week let’s embrace disorder and it’s creative power.)

There is this moment before the heartache. When you know it’s coming. It isn’t there yet. You don’t even know why you think it’s forthcoming but you feel it in your bones. Like your soul has felt it coming from miles away.

This moment before the pain is about to hit you and you know it will devastate you. It hasn’t arrived yet. But you know it will. And you know it will open the wounds again. The wounds of decade that took centuries to heal.

You prepare yourself beforehand. You are sure of its factuality. So there is this night, where you lay on bed and you don’t really know why your heart is sad. Neither do you know why you want to cry. But you do.

And then all of a sudden there is this moment of realisation that this is you mourning for what’s about to become of your heart. Which is already hanging through the gallows waiting for the final call to its execution. The strings are cut one by one with which it hangs firm and it slowly looses grip. And you know it’s about to fall. It hasn’t fallen yet. But you know it’s about to. You already know. And there isn’t one damn thing you can do about it. It’s inevitable.

It will come like a tide of the ocean that slowly builds. The more it gets closer the more ferocious it becomes, and you know you are going to fucking drown. You try to save breaths, prepping yourself for the impact. But you know no matter how well you’ve prepared yourself, the tide is going to come and it will break you. Like beads off a pearl necklace; You will spill. All the pieces of yourself that you put together one by one all this time will spill…just like that. Like they were never stringed together so tenuously to begin with. Like they had always been so haphazardly splattered across the floor.

Though none of that has happened yet. But you feel it coming and you know it will happen. So this night where you are trying to make sense of why you still can’t find peace? This is the calm within the storm. Where you know the storm will soon reach the core of you and you will be blown to smithereens.

And so, this is you; grieving.

We Bleed (To Transform)

(Transmogrify)
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I don’t know what it is about blood. We claim it’s a bad thing yet we can’t stop bleeding. We let others wound us over and over again until gash is a foot deep into our soul. Sometimes we wound others and get wounded in the process.

We clutch tightly to barbed wires of emotional attachments and walk on the burning coals of expectations. And by the end of it when we fall on the ground profusely gushing and wounded to our core, we make promises to ourselves; never again. But as we all know, promises are made to be broken.

The wound is by now infected because you didn’t take care of it well. You didn’t suture it on time and you didn’t put the bandage when you should have. You just let it be; as a reminder of all the things you loved that ruined you.

We fall back onto bed made of thorns of disappointment, exhausted. And bleed some more. We bleed until we can’t. We ache until every muscle in our body refuses to ache anymore. We suffer until pain itself screams in pain. Until the infection has spread onto every small vein and down to our very bones. Until we find ourselves disintegrating- crumbling, decaying, withering.

But,
How else could we have become anew,
If we had not first become ashes?

Let’s Make A Change

(WPC: The SunShine )

“Let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered 
and think -
damn, you are beautiful.
No one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and
 assemble them into a beautiful whole.

Hell,
 you won’t even look at yourself and think – 
I made broken look beautiful.

You know why?

Because all those writers lied to you.

Yes, 
all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and 
blood dripping down chins, 
pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like 
hurricanes.

Liars.

So you and I, 
we are going to make a plan.

You are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror,
You are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you 
but still writes about you.

Here is what you are going to romanticize instead:
You are going to romanticize the first day of spring,
Its gentle hands all over your body,
Lifting you up until you are as light as a feather.

You are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love,
No hurricanes, 
but sunshine that builds you up from within,
That helps you make it through the worst days.

You are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend 
in yours,
Telling you that it is going to be okay.

Because it is.

And don’t trust poets, 
we’re no good,
 we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality – 
there isn’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and 
empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls.

You know what is beautiful, instead?

The days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile, 
scars and all.
Music that makes your soul flow like a river, 
books that offer comfort, 
families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm,
 friends that give you strength when you can find none, 
lovers who make you laugh through tears.

Baby, 
from now on 
you are going to romanticize healing;
Honey dripping down your fingertips,
August nights that stick to your skin, the day you find your purpose, 
long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now.

Bad news: 
no one is coming to save you.

Good news: 
you can save yourself.”
– Lana Rafaela (via wnq-writers.tumblr.com)

( Daily Prompt: Millions )

Where The Heart Is 

(WPC: Local :Show us where the heart is.)

Home is in the infinite space surrounding the sky.

The hotel room was surprisingly clean, two single beds were joined together to make it a bigger bed against the wall. The interior was comparatively simple, with green carpet and plane white walls. Two arm chairs with a table in front were placed opposite the bed. It wasn’t very luxurious but it was fulfilling his purpose for now. He gave out a tired breath and let himself fall on the chair. The chairs were conveniently placed closer to the window. He looked at the deserted road at 12 am which still showed a hint of night life as few cars passed by. The summer wind was softly blowing through the windows and onto his face. He closed his eyes to take it all in. Her face flashed in front of him as soon as he closed his eyes. The vision of her hair being softly caressed by the same wind that was now touching his face. Damn, what did this woman do to him, he cursed himself. As clock ticked by, with his tired eyes, all he could think of was her. In all the hours, in all the minutes, in all the seconds she had captured his attention. There was something about her. He couldn’t figure it out and it was killing him.

He felt frustrated, he wanted to hold her tight with a strong grip and ask her to look in his eyes so he would know what exactly she carried beneath those alluring lashes. He wanted to tear off the skin she was wearing so he could see underneath, the soul she was carrying. Despite his best attempts he couldn’t figure out who or what she was. This woman was driving him crazy.

He took out a cigarette from his pack, there were only two more left. There would be none left by morning he was sure. He wished there was something stronger to drown his anxiety. But for now cigarettes would do too. He took out a lighter, burned his cigarette and inhaled a long puff and slowly exhaled it out. Watching the smoke make patterns in the air and then dissolving in the summer air by finding escape through the open window.

This woman was like smoke… Mysterious, beautiful and a killer. She was killing him softly, with her infectious laughter and her enticing eyes.. The way she would touch him, ever so lightly and then disappear in the crowd. And he like a madman would follow her around. Trying to catch another glimpse of her allusive beauty. God Damn, this is getting out of hand he thought to himself. He was probably no good for her or maybe she was too intense for him. He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was he wanted to see her again. He wanted her fix like an addict. It was like this woman had completely taken over him. In his veins, in his blood, in the air he breathed, she was everywhere. She was all around him. He wanted to hold her against the wall, pin her and kiss her till she would beg for forgiveness for all what she made him feel.. If only he could do that. Taste her lips. The lips that lied with a smile. If only he could look deep in her eyes. The eyes that usually betrayed her smile.

By now the cigarette pack was empty, dammit he needed to stop this, he thought. At least they should have lasted till morning. But the thoughts of her were too distracting for him to notice how poison was filling his lungs all this time. He sighed and moved to the bed. He slept as soon as his back hit against the bed.

He dreamt about her. As always.
And he realized that he could never have her as the day dawned upon.
But he knew that in the night he could have her thoughts.
She was a wish never to be fulfilled,
But a dream that could always be seen.
And so he dreamed. As always. He dreamed.


(Flâneur  )

Moon, Ocean and Her

(Weekly Photo Challenge: H2O )
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She dipped her toes in the water to check the temperature. Today the water was warm, not as cold as the other nights. So inviting. So perfect. Ocean spread in front of her endlessly, her eyes gazing into infinity, catching nothing but darkness and with it moon- lit like the last flame after the candle has almost completely burned.

Waves, oh the waves. She heard them calling her name, in the far distance. Enchanting. Dancing. Welcoming.

She sat on the steep rock, her toes still dipped in the water.

Wind, oh the wind. She felt it embracing her. Seeping into her bones, sending chills down her spine. Hair at the nape of her neck deliciously stood at its touch. Enveloping her being.

But the moon, oh the moon. She looked up, was silent today. She was expecting it to beg and plead. But there it was, as quiet as the infinite space surrounding it. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt her. Moon and her had a thing, or so she thought. Her heart fluttered, her stomach churned as she kept gazing at it, as if somehow it would break its silence. The water was now up to her knees.

“So we are doing this huh. I see. You are not going to say anything? After all this time. Nothing?

Well no problem…I have a lot to say tonight anyways. Or would you rather have me quiet and say nothing?”

The water rose upwards about an inch, from her knees to her thighs.

“Hmmm, so silence it is then.”

She laid back on the steep rock, looking up at the sky. Mapping out stars, in hopes soon there will be one of hers up there among constellations too- hopefully closer to the moon.

The water was soaking her back now, it was rising fast. She smiled, as bright as the moon itself. So heartily that for a moment stars dimmed their lights to let her shine. She knew. She just knew; The moon wanted her too. And that was the whole truth.

In that moment, peace came. A tear as heavy as the gravity itself fell down her face. Carrying more pain than salt in an ocean itself.

The tide came & took her away,
Orchestrated by the moon,
For it wanted her too.
And so that,
It proved.