I waited- I waited for YOU. I waited for so long- I stopped counting the time. I waited in agony, In pain, yet as a mime. I couldn’t shout it. Nor hold on to it. Who knew to hold onto pain, anyway? Who knew pain need the strongholds of arms? Who knew agony is ever loud? Who knew its piercing sound? But then, I still waited. I waited for you to see the pain! Not to alleviate me from it. But to see me through it. To hear me when I cannot be heard. To give me the arms I needed to hold onto. I never wanted YOU to take it away. By then, it was my only companion. Not the ideal company I wished to have, But it was better not to starve, Starve of any company.
The irony, though- Waiting was not the cure. It was the pain itself, rather.
The moment I stopped waiting, The moment I stopped hoping, The moment I given in, There, I saw part of the pain took off. I saw the agonizing loud voice alleviating. The moment I stopped waiting for YOU, That was the very moment I stopped hearing the pain. I feel the ache and affliction, But not a peep. Not anymore. And now I weep in silence. None to hear me. And yet, none to baffle me. I shout, I cry, I feel- Every bit of the pain I endure. But I do not wait whatsoever!
They say life is what happens while you are busy making other plans. How true is this! If life went accordingly to our generalized definitions and plans, we all would’ve been doomed. In a mundane, normal life of ours, exceptional characters appear to beautify and polish our canvas. These are the people who suck out every cynicism we developed over the years. The beauty of these people is that they don’t appear in an organized and planned manner. They are always exceptions and disrupt the plans we have held onto for so long. The obsessions we have to equate our ways of life would be ruled out because of these people. These are the people who make us believe in falling in love and goodness of people by restoring our faith in humanity once again. These are the people who give us what we call life!
Lately, I’ve been forced to succumb the idea that the world we live in is disintegrating into pieces. Advancement has become the euphemism for taking the essence out of things. The very elements that constitute things have faced the fatal reality. We built a social life without interacting socially with one another. We built a system to create intimacy in a certain amount of time. Commitment and affection have become the unnatural faces of our lives. The empathy we had for fellow humans, just because we are human beings, has become costly. The upgrade in our lifestyles to save us time is the greatest jest, perhaps. Because none of us have any time to do a thing. For us, the people in the previous centuries are simple and boring. And yet, our so-called sophisticated life has left us with no time to think and reconsider our decisions. Unwise, impulsive, and easily satisfied without considering the value are the best descriptions of our time. We even managed to have a coffee without the caffeine. The same way we create a beer without alcohol. Our advanced life has become meaningless and fragile in many aspects. So many of us suffer in silence. But we are not the only ones falling apart into pieces. The world we built is also decomposing. If we only knew how far we have come from the essence of life!
She walked out of her office thinking of her next few hours. Lately, her working hours are much more peaceful than the rest of her evening. She kept wondering what went wrong in the process. But she can’t pinpoint what it is exactly. Her thoughts have become a series of codes, she cannot even begin to understand them. Whenever she comes close to it, there he was, waiting for her with a smile, ready to disrupt her thoughts once again. The moment she is in the presence of someone she forgets her very own existence like a moth drawn to light only for utter destruction. The major work her mind focuses on would be imprinting a smile on her face and to nod along whatever is there on the conversation table. Or managing ideas that are actually out of this world, never near to reality nor the present life. But that is getting harder when her mind is filled with codes that should be deciphered into actual words.
In the last fortnight or so, she has been lost more than ever. Her insecurities and doubts have grown wild. It is not like she is a stranger for these things. They have been her special guests for a long. It might even be inappropriate to consider them as guests due to their prolonged stay. But now they have multiplied and grown, it is hard to control or not to be overwhelmed by them. Before she even get through this thought, the taxi reached her destination. She feels like walking in her sleep dragging her foot and yet she wasn’t even close to sleeping.
Out of nowhere, she remembered something she heard or read. “The brighter the lady shines, the faster she may burn!” The thought made her wince with a confused smile close to a burst of tears. She once was shining bright, maybe a little brighter than she had to. There again, she reached her destination. But she wasn’t quite ready to let this thought go. She entertained the person she used to be in the dimming light of the day. The quote couldn’t be more true. While she thought she was shining brighter than ever, she was burning to ashes. And she didn’t realize she lost more than half of herself until she was very close to losing her whole self in it.
His warm greeting woke her up from her thoughts once again. It wasn’t a pleasant distraction. He seemed to be energetic more than ever. He got the promotion he was hoping for so long. ‘Tonight, we are celebrating!’ He continued with the enthusiasm she envied. She gave him the best smile she could ever muster. ‘Congrats, you got the promotion?!’ She said, unsure of her wavering voice. ‘Better, I got the head editorial position…’ he went on and on. She didn’t realize her body was long gone until he called out her name again. ‘I’m listening’, she lied.
She has to do it tonight. This madness has to stop. She needs a break before her mind makes it demand and paralyze her body in total. It wasn’t just him. She needed a break from her usual activities. She wasn’t sure she was going to do it. But she has to before ruining the greatest night of his life. ‘How is telling him different from that?’, she wondered. But convinced not telling him would be much worse, she blurted it out. She didn’t even think of her word choices. ‘I can’t do this anymore!’ He was startled. ‘What can you not do?’ She saw a flash of hurt across his face. ‘I need a time, space…whatever, I need it all. I’m so sorry. I just can’t.’ She is not thinking. If she was, she wouldn’t have the gut to say it. The hurt has changed into anger. He is ready to blast any moment now. ‘I do not understand. I will never understand you for that matter.’ He sighs and muttered something she couldn’t quite get. ‘What do you want? Do you even know what you want? Why do you keep shutting the world out? No, no! Why do you keep shutting me out? I have tried to get you. And I did. You are okay, now. Your past days are behind you. Why do you indulge in them again and again?’
He pushed some button she never knew she had. Her face was downright flushed. ‘I am okay?! How do you even know that? What do you know about being okay? You know what, I’m not even going to say more. I don’t need space or time. This is what I need. I don’t wish to see you ever again. Do not say anything!’ She took a deep sigh for she said it all in one breath. She picked her bag up along with herself and said, ‘you think you are so smart. So full of knowledge, about me, my emotions. Here is something for your thought then. If you think you’re so smart, decipher all the notes I left looking out for help! You were ‘the only smart one’ to figure that out. And yet, here we are! Goodbye!’ She runs out of there. Despite the rising anger on her chest, she felt a hint of sadness inside.
As she got to her house, she scribed the words- ‘deciphering my thoughts.’ That would be the only thing she would do in the next few hours, weeks, even years!
If you must choose between fighting or standing down, which one would you choose? As appealing as fighting sounds, if you’re half sure that you would lose the battle, would you choose it just for the sake of bravery? Well, standing down means you are signing a lifetime deal with regret. For starter you would definitely regret not choosing to fight. And you couldn’t help but wonder that you may have a chance at winning it. Either of this two, as a grave hater of regret myself, I think I would settle for a fight. What could be the worst case scenario? Losing?! Well, be it then. It will at least leave you with, “I tried.” Collateral damages and all other factors considered, I still say FIGHT! Mind you, this is not a physical fight. It’s a fight for yourself, your choices, your actions, to your own healing, to forgive yourself, give yourself a second chance and everything you might wonder. Solely and absolutely for yourself!
Living in the constant need of distraction, To keep my feet on the run. To see life beyond the horizon, To not be bound, but freed. To move on, To keep going, I kept hiding. Hiding on the things I could hold on to, Tangible or abstract, Vivid or indistinct, It never matters. As long as it distracts.
Because, The moment I stopped hiding in ‘something’, That’s very moment I start to lose control. The moment I face the world as it is, That’s when reality bites. The moment I came out of my shield, That’s when I became crippled. If moving on is the secrecy of life, Then I should keep distracting myself. For now, it’s better to live, Beneath the shadow of my own!
Mend me for I’m broken, Hold on to me for I’m fading away, Find me for I’m at loss, Hide me from my own misery! Cleanse me for I’ve sinned, Rule over me for I’m yours, Tend me for I’m broken, Bid me for I will obey!
“I used to be someone else. Someone who was comfortable with talking. Someone who played with the strings of beautiful words. Someone who did this and that. But then I sank into the dark abyss of my soul, I forgot the existence of the world around me. My eyes are now nearsighted for the universe of my own. I barely talk. Words have forsaken me. I can’t utter a single thing well. That could explain why I like my own company more than anything. I wish to utter words on my paper to see the flow of my thoughts well. I want my words to paint the roadmap of my train of thoughts. But, o my words! They left me behind in the constant perplexed illusion of myself. I can’t even recognize which is reality or ideation. I’m just left to wander in this unknown, untouched part of myself without a hint of light. Even when I’m awake, it feels like I’m sleep walking through my life. This is why I do not want to talk. The war I have inside of me doesn’t put me at liberty to say things. I’m in fact afraid of what I might say if I open my mouth. I do not wish to say the things like you ache me, your presence suffocate me or your words wound me. I just want…I just want an absolute silence.” She sighed. Almost in a relief of the heavy words she uttered. It felt like the words were burying her down. And now she is liberated. But then, what now?
She ran to her room as if she were running away from the previous few minutes. She stood behind the door,trying to collect her thoughts. Her breathing has fastened. She felt her pulse racing. “Why did I open my mouth? Why? Why?” She stared at the wall waiting for a response. She started pacing around the room. Counted her steps. Right, left. Left, right. “Oh my God!” She sighed with a shiver. She then scurried to her bed and hid under the blanket. In the absolute darkness where she can only hear herself without distraction. She felt relief for no one followed her after the speech she had given. She wanted to think of the reason why. But forced all the thoughts back and convinced herself just to lie down in the darkness.
“If I were a melody,” her mind started wondering. This was already the next day and she started scribbling on her notebook. “If I were a melody, I would’ve spent my whole life in a beautiful box. I would sing out the beautiful notes when needed. But for the rest of the time, I will be locked out in my box.” She went on. “I have always thought, when you play a pianoforte, you’re feeling the depth of your heart at the tip of your fingers. Even though your fingers are only doing the magic, your heart is pounding and pouring itself out. Your soul is dancing it’s way through. Only your body is stuck in some fixed position allowing your fingers to move along. In elegance, yet in passion.” She paused for a minute. Then continued again. “But as someone who never played it, but watched many skilled ones perform it with love and passion, I must think that’s how they feel about it. In fact it’s usually said virtuoso musicians lose themselves in the music and zone out from the reality. They become buried inside the box as if they were the melody and the rhythm itself. As the string move, you hear the beat of their soul. That seems to be easy to run away from reality. You just hid in the box.” “Here is my dream job”, she whispered to herself.
She then realized she had been away from the grave reality of her life for few hours. She closed her eyes. She didn’t get out of her room after the last incident. Would she ever be able to stand in front of them? As she starts thinking about her next encounter with her relatives and parents, her throat starts closing up. “I may not be able to say a word after this.” Once the box is open, her mind couldn’t stop wondering about it. “I bet they think it is an iniquity. That it was a disgrace to speak what you have in mind. Is it how it works though? I was a melody in the box. Well, the music that outflowed wasn’t in their liking. And yet, it was still a melody.” As her rambling and her real life becomes at peace, she realized how much little she had spoken. She didn’t say it all. She still has a lot in mind. She felt all the indignation she had kept to herself just for the sake of not saying anything. For the best picture people had of her. But in retrospect, it doesn’t actually feel it worked at all. It was all a ruse at her cost. She doesn’t even remember why she stopped saying anything in the first place. As much as it sounds good to hide in the box and give away such a composition, a melody, it just doesn’t feel right anymore. But this doesn’t mean she is going to use all the words after this. Sometimes, saying nothing says the most anyway. That is also using your voice in sorts. “I am a melody. I live in my own box. My music is sometimes bad. But also good at times. It’s all about a good composition anyway. Who then could tell the bad from the good?” She shouted this in her mind. Then she opened her door and faced the world. Well, at least the people in the next room!
Which one is wrong? Looking for something perfect in this imperfect world(incredibly so) OR believing that there are no perfect things and living a mundane life? Even though it is almost always annoying, the former makes you earn life in a special manner. You feel like you are in a treasure hunt every single day of your life. Some of the days you know what you are looking for. Some of the days you’re running up and down with no sense of direction whatsoever the end result is. But it sure does make you hope for more. You seek to see more in life. You seek to have a desire for a better tomorrow. Even when you know living to see tomorrow means getting close to your death, you live for that instant. Is that really being gullible and silly or brave?
But, the latter is mundane. Nothing exciting whatsoever. You’re always content with what you have. You don’t need more. You are just okay with the momentum of life. If something better comes along, you would receive it with open arms. At the same time, if someone tells you this would be the very last day to live, you wouldn’t mind at all. Knowing and understanding the momentum of life means you are not afraid of a thing, even death itself. This sounds pretty ordinary or lame. But isn’t this the reality of the world we live in? Why should it be extraordinary always? What does it change anyway? Feeling the superpower within you and living like a hero is only possible in a fictional world. If one wants to be a hero, the only thing he needs is keeping up with the tricks of life. Understanding the magic of reality! The way, one would start living beyond surviving a single day in life!
So, I think one must choose to settle in the middle of these two. A little enthusiasm would never hurt anyone. Living in the real, non-fantasized world is sine qua non. If the two can mutually exist, then, that would be quite a combination indeed!
A jewel in my pocket, Designed in my own forte. Carried it along everywhere. Like it was the only thing to matter. When my finger touches the tip of it, Feel it in my hands, Then I breath. Sometimes I shiver, In delight, real happiness! The joy compensates, For all the times I don’t feel it. For the moments I’m in despair. It makes me wish, It makes me wonder, How do I keep it with me? How can I be certain in life? Can it be achieved? To have the abstract such as life, At the tip of your fingers? Isn’t that a rarity indeed? Isn’t life itself an oddity? Who lives like the other? Doesn’t our definition vary? If for one, life is an abstract- It’s tangible for other! But surety in life, Is rare- almost always!
In pain, we thrive. Believing everything is transient. It is just now. Not tomorrow. Or constant.
In love, We are to be found. Know more about selves. Find our soft spots. Discover our vulnerability. We acquiesce to be lost, Only in love itself.
In waves, Life always happens in waves. Once, in the highest peaks. Then, in to the peril of storm. But again, it picks up. Flows upwards against the odds. And it goes on and on!
She was ruminating. Lost in her own universe. It was like she was asleep right in front of him while her eyes were wide open. It was the first time he realized that waking someone from sleep was much easier. He knows her. At least, better than many people in her life. She knows that too. What he doesn’t know is that knowing her better than the world is not enough. Because she is made of multiple layers. And he only knew the first few. Beneath the layers and layers, there lies a person. A whole, new, different person. The world doesn’t know that.
In propriety, she may let in some people into her life. She might atleast open the gate for them. But in reality, the gate that is opened is right next to another gate.
Here’s something about life. In life, almost everyone is afraid of death. All the people she met were really afraid of death. Even when they say they are not, she knew exactly that they really are. That’s when she realized there is a huge difference between her and the world. She wasn’t afraid of death. Not a little bit. She was terrified of life, though. Very much. The only thing she was scared of was tomorrow. Oh tomorrow! And the day after that. And the next. That was what she was thinking of when he waked her up. “Why am I not scared of death? Just like everyone? Why do I freak out with the thought of tomorrow? Why do I breakdown by the glance of my future?” He called her name again when she was trying to remember what she was thinking about when she was deep in thought. Life!
She saw him in tearful eyes with a hint of smile. She was trying to make sure her smile was much bigger and stronger than her tears. Tears give you away. But laughter builds you a firewall. He stood frozen not knowing what to ask or what to say next. So he said, “let’s go some place else or walk?” She nodded since she wasn’t sure of her voice. And she followed him.
And so they went out of the park. A larger crowd faced them. He then decided to head towards their usual spot. She’s barely moving her feet trying to follow wherever he would take her. She feels like she was in a dream and now awaken to reality. Heavy eyes, weakened limbs. Was she asleep or deep in thought? He is heading somewhere. She is following him. She is trying to paint the smile on her face. He is quiet. She wondered what he might be thinking about. For a brief second she thought, “did he see through me?” But then she answered to herself “no, that’s not possible.” He turn around to see if she’s coming. She gave him a nod along with a bigger smile. She’s relieved her smile is winning.
He wanted to say something. He really thought he should. He just couldn’t utter a word. He wanted to talk about anything. But then, his mind left him bereft. So he is wandering just like the rest of the people on the road. He hoped to get to there faster. At least sitting would help. Or having a sip of a drink.
He went back to the moment where she froze. He was talking about life, hope and all. He knew she is sensitive about these things. But he wasn’t sure why or he never understood the level of despair she was in. He didn’t think it would turn out in her teleporting to the other universe and him being left speechless. He felt like he smashed down a huge jenga puzzle to the extent he doesn’t even know how to rebuild it again. For now, the only quick fix he is thinking, sitting down and having a glass of water would clear his mind. Or magically put some words on his tongue. Fingers crossed.
“So”,he said after he took a sip from his water. His idea of quick fix is working. He has few words now. She looked him in the eye with the painted smile on her face and replied, “so…”. “I think our generation is obsessed with post apocalyptic events, don’t you think?” He waited for her to say something agreeable raising his brows while he’s taking another sip. She knew he’s trying to get her back to this universe and make her interested in imaginations, philosophy or ideologies. Despite her usual interest in these things, she wanted to stay in her ideal universe for a while. In the middle of the debate she’s having with herself, she was taking longer than a while to give him a response. She excused herself to go to the rest room.
As she stood infront of the mirror, she kept telling herself that she can do this. This is just another day. Like the other days. She reminded herself that she can’t start ruminating about her life now. That’s always done when she’s alone. Life is not all about doing what you love. It’s about not showing the hate for the things you don’t want to do. She recited that again and again while feeling the cold water along her face. And when she step out, she had a bigger smile on her face. Ready for the day! For the moment! She decided to be here, not out there.
After she took a sip of her coffee, she went on and on about what he started as a quick fix. They laughed. They talked a lot about other things. But she wasn’t reminiscing about life anymore. He didn’t bring it up either. He was happy she’s smiling and talking her heart out. As the time closes to dusk, they walked home. And both thought quietly, “not that bad, after all.”
Under the valley of mist, In the blur of my imagination, There I wonder! Would words be enough? Would tears suffice? To show the ache inside To tell the story behind. To face my doubts of existence in life! Will I ever be enough? Will I ever survive the longest minutes of life? Will it be over? Or worse? Or just a dreadful nightmare? Will I ever long for my existence? Or just the end of it? Am I always gonna be the coward? Coward for hope? Coward for life? Whatever I’m gonna be, Just let me be. For you, it might be minutes. But for me, it’s so long- It feels like years.
I get exhausted easily. My mind becomes numb after few hours of operations. It’s like I have to maintain my room temperature. I don’t know why I’m this delicate at times. Few things drain me out. Little things tend to overwhelm me. It’s like living on the very edge of a mountain. If I can’t maintain my balance for a while, it’s like I’m meant to end up falling to the depth of the valley. And maintaining the silence both in the inside and outside is one way to do it somehow. Where could be a better place more than a library to maintain your room temperature, then? The room full of silence along with the books like a wall for your thoughts! Imaginations dipped in great words to construe your reality well, and to fill your chaotic mind with peaceful alms for you to hang on in this hectic world.
I don’t recall the first time I got into a library. Not even the age range I was in. I was probably in mid school though. I don’t think I had this immense realization or instant love for it either. But lately, I’ve come to realize something. Libraries are not just the center of academic stress. Yeah, I admit, their smell even could remind you the howling nights you’ve struggled against the time and the pages. But despite those many nights, libraries have their own awe in making silence reign the space. Sometimes, I want to think that we keep silent in the library to pay our respect to the books. In spending much time in the library, living in so many books at once, here’s the skill you will develop. Listening to yourself quietly. Paying attention to the details of your mind ardently. And breath for a while in this chaotic and loud so called urban life. Just breath for a moment!
As I grow up, this is one of the things I’ve realized about myself. I hate the chaos and disarray of this world. I hate the loud noises which are supposed to be comfortable for others. Enjoying life in the company of many voices is vague for me. I have an ultimate tranquility in the absolute silence of my environment. I reach out to my solace in the voices of my head from my imagination. That’s the only voice I would love to hear. That’s the only voice that puts me at ease.
So, yeah. I might not know how much I loved libraries back then. But now, I know I adore them most. You might wonder, do you have to be in library to achieve the ultimate solace? Not necessarily I guess, but most probably. As Pythagoras puts it “meaningful silence is better than meaningless words.” The thing about the chaos of this world is, it’s filled with meaningless words. And libraries are filled with meaningful silence. I would rather die in the solemn silence of them than live in the sea of inane words.
So, change of dreams! What do you wanna do when you grow up? This is one of the most common questions one hears in lifetime. There may be multiple answers for it. One thing is sure though. I’m gonna build a library of my own in my house. A home library! That’s an actual dream. I can picture the beautiful shelves on my walls. I can sniff the smell of the books. Even the thought of it gives me an ecstasy. I can see the collections I’ll have. In the generation where hard copies are being overthrown, I’ll be the home of many of the great books.
Amidst the chaos of existence, in the full gloomy season of life, there comes the few bright, exciting days. A sunlight in the full snow season. The heat across your face which could make you forget almost everything for a moment there. The good vibes that captures the anchors of your life to be the hero of the moment. The narrator of life.
Good times are the pearls of existence. They are the ones to become memories of lives. Those random days where ideas spring like never before, where arguments are to be loved and companions to be enjoyed. Spontaneity blossoms into the best of moments. Days that couldn’t be described enough with pictures, but worth remembering within the eyes of our minds. These are the days worth to remember in the gloomy days of life. The best memories stamped on our minds to get back to, not once but millions of times. Conversations to be cherished again and again. Those days! Good times! Good vibes!
Unabridged Manuscripts 