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)

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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 )

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)

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?