I wish I had some courage

I wish I had the courage to declare myself eccentric, to talk to myself in public ; loudly and clearly, to quit my job, to truly hate it and draw inspiration from that hatred, to be determined enough to never succumb to it again, to dream relentlessly or not to dream at all, to accept the world for how it is; not how it should be, and if the world is not acceptable then to take up the responsibility of being the change, to do things I feel like doing, to live through impulses, to travel and get lost, to leave myself entirely and then be rediscovered, to criticize and not be likeable, to have my heart speak through my voice and not by my unheard thoughts, to tell someone that he is special, either that or that I don’t like him at all, to not be bothered by the fictional thoughts of others, to greet strangers like old comrades, to smile on a shittiest day, to share my deepest pain, to wail in the middle of a street, to be vulnerable, for once at least (and then suddenly find the strength), to learn things that I am too old to learn, to applaud myself if needed and not care if called conceited, to not let anything deprive me of my esteem or respect, to love without fearing that one might reject, to be visible and not be conscious if seen, to be able to say things that I truly mean,  to not heed the delusive stories spun by my mind, to revere happiness and not be scared of its disappearance if acknowledged, to not care about money, or my own irrelevance, to not hate myself or life or fate, to love the face that stares back in the mirror, to accept who I am and not compare, to be the unadulterated myself completely and be it even if it is the stupidest thing to be.

I wish I had the courage. I wish I had just a little courage to do the things I wish.

Why I will never dream…

I will never leave the comforts of present ,
Or the wise learnings of my luxurious past,

Just to embrace the unknowns and variables of future,
I will never accept the possibilities aghast!

Finding several reasons, suggestions, advice based on experience,
I will analyze and over analyze, all the permutations & combinations,
To and fro, meandering , my thoughts running in circles…
Some casting a dreamy light at zenith, and many pointing to awful abominations.

Resisting, demanding, refuting, commanding,
I will never settle for being just another ordinary,
Nevertheless, don’t expect me to take the steps that lead to the opposite..
Neither dare you tell me that nothing will make me extraordinary!

I will be secretly aware but don’t bring it up,
My deceptive hopes and daydreams will always cover up,
I am content looking at the surroundings, camouflaging immediately,
hiding, adapting, crawling and smiling idiotly,
My retribution – Being just another brick in the wall…
And never accepting the same or living happily at all!
Shush! It’s a secret – let me put up a radiant smile,
If I go on about this publicly, I would be declared whiny and vile!
So let me crack some jokes, make merry, be a little vain,
And please, let me raise the toast to my blatant latent pain.

A happy ending

image

I feel like a child sometimes. My hand is held by my fate who happens to be my loving guide and we walk along this beautiful monotonous road that I love so much that I loathe it. I am easily distracted by the things that pass by our journey. And why wouldn’t I be? Grass is so green all around me and the road is so dull! So, I try being stubborn and all -putting forward my desires to leave the road and take a detour among the greener sides. Fate says no. I insist. Fate says no again. I throw some tantrums. Fate is tired  and so she says – Okay go ahead, explore.

I am delighted! My heart is elated! I hurriedly let go of her hand and begin to run towards the unexplored woods, my feet touch the green grass, my hands are not held and I am free to run! To dance! To go anywhere I want! It’s amazing! And it is finally happening to me!And it is at this thought that I stop and look back at her.

Pause.

Play.

I start to walk into the woods again reminding myself that this is what I ever wanted!

Pause.

Play.

And then for no reason or for those reasons that I am not ready to accept just yet I stop and look back again.

Pause.

Play.

Fate smiles; she knows what’s about to happen. I turn my head towards the woods again, I look at it so lovingly – “I am almost there!”

Stop.

And then I give a sigh and trace my way back to the road. I hold her hands again and we begin to walk.

I tell myself that grapes are sour. I tell myself that the day wasn’t right. I console myself – Maybe tomorrow. Fate senses my sorrow, being the encouraging person she is, she assures me how beautiful the road is going to be. The trueness in her eyes is not deceptive, the dumbness in my perception is just appropriately clandestine ; I am convinced it’s for the best and hence we walk again.

We are walking again, walking again through the road that I loathe so much that I love it.

It’s a happy ending. My happy ending.

Connecting the dots; A tribute to the past

So close, yet so far
trying to relive through the moments that will never come back,
Going distant, and distant and distant
like the milestones along the road growing small…

I am gazing through the back seat of a car,
and slowly forgetting where the milestones are…
it’s not fair,
these images in my head,
some existing and some diminishing
transforming into the vivid images of a beautiful dream I will soon forget,
it hurts when memories  exist,
it hurts even more when they slowly fade away;
My brain in a pitiable auto format mode,
only so much of Terabytes it can accommodate!
but  son! We can go to the front seat  and drive!
Look out for the milestones that will grow big instead of small,
We will make note of each one of them
until we pass by and again forget them all,
but don’t worry the road won’t end,
it simply won’t,
maybe the never ending journey won’t make sense,
maybe the past will haunt again,
maybe the future won’t seem bright
especially with beautiful images of the trail behind splashed all over inside,
maybe chaos will forever be chaos,
maybe the noise will never turn into symphony,
So what, son, so what?
come to the front seat,
don’t be seated at the back,
your reasons to stay are good,
and I have nothing better to argue,
but don’t waste too much time connecting the dots,
it will never make sense when you will want it to,
come at the front, we will have fun,
We will never talk about the dots!
We will never talk about the road!
And trails shall become a map, and dots an image,
One day, one day out of nowhere…
when you would have forgotten that you ever cared.

Hasta la vista Losers!

So, it has finally happened. The thing that I have been waiting for since the last four years is right there in the palm of my hands ready to be pocketed. Thing I have hated from the bottom of my heart is ultimately vanishing. And all I am going to be left with are some memories which are going to grow fewer and more rare with each passing day. Isn’t it amazing?

Isn’t it?

No?

NO?

It’s not fair how the most awaited thing of your life ends up disappointing you. While my heart should have been jumping up and down, whooping with ecstasy, it is growing heavier with every breath I take. I don’t get it. The insides of my heart are becoming more or less like a dam blocking the whole reservoir of emotions from flooding my entire body. It’s raining and raining and I know someday, I am going to drown in this inevitable inundation of feelings.

What am I going to miss?

Friends? Classes? Funny teaching assistants?  Practical labs? Canteen?  So much vella time? What?

It’s not done brain!  I thought we agreed that none of us are going to grow sentimental about this. I thought we had a deal. Why the fuck are you breaking it?

But don’t you see, turquoise ink!” says my brain in an attempt to defend himself, “that in these years of stagnancy, ironically, so many things have changed! Look at you! Look at me! Look at the memories we have made! I am not doing this intentionally! Damn it! I am not deceiving you! I am just so helpless.

Huh. Traitor.

ihateyou

What do I say? What do I write?

I am tired. I am tired. I am tired of growing and I want to revert it back. I am tired of struggling to swim across my emotions. I am tired of happiness. I am tired of hope. And I am tired of anticipating the unknown. You wanted my naked emotions? Here they are! I am scared shitless. And I want it all to stop. You wanted me to be despondent. Look here I am heart! Morose. Pessimistic. Hopeless. In a weird state of mind where the right words are just not coming out.

How do I say how do I feel?  Sadness has always rendered me speechless and in an acute awareness of the fact that my vocabulary isn’t good.

One might expect me to write an ode to these four years. But I can’t do it. There is no ode. There is no symphony. There are no lyrics or music.  All I have is an ugly mixture of  chaos, confusion, disappointment, anxiety, panic attacks, happiness, late night rainfalls of tears, lots of laughter, lots of irrelevant knowledge, a little of relevant knowledge, infinite sleepless nights, loads of hung-over afternoons, memories of unplanned trips, memories of planned trips, some unforgettable dialogues, some unforgettable quotes from late night conversations, the pleasure of watching some of  the most amazing movies for the first time, some deeply embedded tunes of most beautiful songs, some of the funniest live actions, awareness of individualism,  starvation for freedom, haunting questions, philosophical discussions, falling in love, getting heartbroken, realizing the dreams, un-realizing the dreams, change of perception, consistency of soul, realization of friendship, realization of connection, anger outbursts, a little of regret, a little of hope, a little of fear and a lot of lessons that I am not even aware that I have learnt. I have found beauty in the ugliness. How do I describe it all in a bunch of fucking rhyming words?

How do I do it?

Self absorbed as I am, I think I am sinking in the pool of my own reflections. While I have tried my best to spread the happiness around me wherever I am, what have I done to myself?  While I have been such a loud advocate of “living in the moment” kind of lifestyle, why am I lagging behind the time? While I have such casually cried out loud “no regrets”, what have I been repenting?

So detached and yet so adhered.

And here I thought college was just about some fun studying, a bit of partying and eventual career building. Huh! I don’t need to know how wrong I had been.

This could have been a gratitude letter for my friends. But they already know that I am thankful to them. They already know that I love them. Fuck gratitude letter. Fuck “I am going to miss these days” pieces of sentimental crap. You say “These were the best days you were ever going to have” So what are you implying?  I should just die now? Since the best is over?  What we ignore about the “end” is that though it is one distasteful concoction of lasts, it is also a gateway to the more exciting blend of “firsts”.

“But still”, you would argue, “it is a little sad, don’t you think?” Well, of course it is! I am going to miss it, yes. The people I have met, the things I have done.  It’s been marvelous.We have all touched each other’s lives in such a delicately beautiful manner that it’s really hard to believe these connections exist for real.I could have made this all about them but I don’t want to ignore this person I know. I do not want her to make false assumption that her life is over. And I am extremely sensitive about her because I know. I know how hard it is for her to walk through life. I know how she struggles. I know how things haven’t been perfect for her, and that’s why this is my earnest effort to let her know that it is okay. And if there is nobody else to tell you this, then you should know that I am here, inside your fucking head to tell you that you are one crazy person to live with but dude! I am stuck with you so I am going to be there for you anyway. And whenever you are going to shatter apart into million pieces again, I will pick each one of them every time and you would never be alone even if you are alone.

There!  That is the college ending gift for you, turquoise ink. You- yourself. Be whoever you want to be.

You fear that you are going to screw up big time with this big responsibility. Then, be it. Screw it all up. I don’t care. We will find something amazing anyway.

Don’t have faith; don’t have hope, fuck it. Don’t have anything. Be as much as the sentimental assholic drama queen as you can be, but I am going to live with you and pick you up and drag you to our land of dreams anyway.

Four years, and I realize that I am not an engineer after all. But instead I have realized that I am an individual. And considering the fact that some people don’t get that for their whole lives, I think I have done pretty good.

Signing off as self absorbed as I can be, getting sentimental for all the peculiar reasons, bidding adieu to college yelling – Ghanta engineering!
Hasta La vista Losers!

Love and lots of Gandugiri,
Theturquoiseink

Being beautiful – What the hell does that really mean?

While I should have been there making the best of the moments and capturing them in my head as much as I can, I was busy thinking about this stupid thing –
Beauty

No, not again turquoise ink!

Well, being beautiful is some phrase that I have never truly understood. And it keeps haunting me. What can I do!

What is it that you don’t understand?

How do you know if someone is beautiful?

Seriously?

Well?

Uff! Attractive to eyes?

I don’t trust the eyes.

Okay, I am going to shut up now. I get a feeling if I stick around anymore, I would die even if I am not capable of dying.

Goodbye, voice in my head. I expected you would do something like that. I am glad you did.

So, the thing is that lately I have realized that while I was busy making myself something that is “attractive” to the eyes around, I have unknowingly objectified my own self.

Huh?

Still there?

I am stuck in your head. What can I do?

And I am stuck with you. The tragedy of my life.

Anyway, the thing is that I put in appreciable number of efforts to look good; Concealing those pimples, getting my hair done, getting my hair done again because no one can do that at first try, getting my toe nails painted so that they look good in stilettos, learning to walk on those stilettos, manicure is equally necessary, then of course you need a flat belly, a fairer skin would be great ( and I don’t want to admit this because skin color is bullshit but yet I have my crazy norms of beauty and I obey to whatever shit my eyes find pleasing) I am never satisfied with the way I look. Something is always there that’s missing. Over the years I have learnt to ignore it but nevertheless it has kept eating me from inside. I have to have some things that I don’t own and I naturally can never ever own but I still have to get them because they are Oh-so-beautiful. If I were an object I owned and if I could just throw my body away and buy a new one, what would I do? My answer is sadly exactly what I don’t want it to be.
Objectification? Is this really objectification? Yes, it is the most brutal form of objectification. I treat myself like a pair of jeans. No, actually I don’t. We embrace even the rugged jeans with such love. I don’t think I would ever do that with my own self. I want to be what is exactly trending, what exactly some people are flashing in front of my eyes so that they could make some money. I want to be what society is used to liking. I want to meet all those silly criteria. Then and only then my vision magically changes and my eyes begin to perceive myself as beautiful.

There are certain things in yourself that you find ugly. I get that. But why would you feel that way? Especially when you are acutely aware of the fact that norms of beauty keep changing every day?

Voice in my head, you are right but I am helpless.

Turquoise ink, have you ever fallen in love?

Yes, I have. Well…I think I have.

SO that means that you have admired someone so much that you ignored all his imperfections.
Like if he had anger issues, you would have still loved him somehow. If he smoked, it would have been alright with you. If he was moody, you would still have figured out a way to adjust. You would have told yourself that he is caring, smart, understanding and he loves you. If he has embraced your imperfections, why can’t you embrace his? You would have loved him and you would have loved him anyway…
Cute isn’t it?
And you can do that for some other person but not your own self.
Why?

That‘s true. I get your point. I have to live with myself all my life. That is one marriage that doesn’t have an option for divorce. Even then I can’t respect it. I can’t lovingly look at my own reflection… what kind of joke is that? I unintentionally compare myself to those models. I am thin, I am tall. But that doesn’t change anything. Had I been obese and a dwarf, I would have felt the same way. Because as long I am not the person in that bloody magazine page or TV advertisement or fashion channels it doesn’t really matter.
Dwarf, tall, obese, skinny… what the hell, I am nothing but an ugly piece of shit.

Such pitiable condition we live in! The people around us are always so keen on pointing out that you are not good enough. What a strange world we have grown accustomed to!
The act of objectifying my own self is like a habit now. It’s embedded so deep that even while I am typing this, even when I am aware of the fact that how wrong I have been, I can’t change myself. What a godforsaken condition! I unintentionally subject myself to misery.

However, however, there is still this wanderer foodie called hope. And I am going to end this with him ( because let’s face it – Nobody likes depressing endings )

One day, I hope we figure a way to embrace ourselves. One day, I hope we stop being dependent on others to know our self worth. One day, I hope that a photo is not capable of stripping us off our confidence. One day, I hope that I am able to propose to my own self and live a happily ever after.

The Orange Sky

Time has come and the time has gone,
Another sun will rise with another dawn,
All I have now are the traces of the missing star,
An unknowingly discontented heart or an unacknowledged scar,
Oh! If I could just know the reason why or just the meaning of I,
As if listening, “Why bother?” whispers the lovely orange sky.
 
So, maybe I am laughing I cannot really see,
Or maybe it’s alright, I cannot really feel,
Anyhow I look forward to another misplaced sun,
Another beautiful day and another misleading run,
Maybe the night shall make me tough, and hope will keep me high,
And then, as if listening, “Why bother?” whispers the lovely orange sky.
 
So now I finally listen, I melt into the beautiful hues,
Lost or Found? I don’t really have many clues,
Few tears escape my eyes as if they have committed treason,
Is it the dying day or the dream? I don’t really know the reason.
Few more fall as the colors fade and as the last traces of light die,
And then, as if listening,” Why bother?” whispers the lovely orange sky.

 

How vain is it to be vain?

My life has been utterly unadventurous and my story is something that is known for it’s proficiency in inducing somnolence but I still have some interesting confessions to make.

My heart wants to spill them out of course but then there’s no fun in that. Everybody has a right to have some mysterious past filled with enigmatic secrets. It’s quite cool. Isn’t it? At least in TV series it is.

But I can reveal one secret here. The tragedy is that it isn’t that interesting but on the positive side it is worth some debate.

I have written many articles on ,you know, supposedly deep stuff; inner strength and life and hope and happiness and blah blah blah blah. But if I die and if you do my autopsy, you would find myself to be a ‘deeply’ superficial person.

hellno

(^Pun intended of course on your behalf)

 

Anyway, sticking to the post, I care a lot about what’s outside. And many a times  I fail to look inside.

I worship vanity.

Though I know vanity sucks and I shouldn’t be doing what I do but..

Well…

It comes to me as naturally as procrastinating, bunking classes and sleeping.

allergic-to-bullshit

^This is voice in my head speaking.

So, let me make some room for  “I have to contradict everything you say and I will always be rude to you” person inside my head;

And here is the conversation between him/her/none/both and me;

Me: You know what? I am shallow. I like vanity. I look for beauty and I..and I deeply admire it.

Him/her/none/both: Too bad. If everybody was like you nobody would ever admire you.

Me: That’s rude. But you think I care about that?

Him/her/none/ both: If you are indeed shallow, you should. Huh! Too bad you suck at being superficial as well.

Me: So, you are saying I am not shallow. Well, thank you. But you know you suck at analyzing me. You have been wrong before. You are wrong now.

Him/her/none/both: I don’t know. Lets look at this from a fresh point of view. I will ask you some questions and you will give honest answers. And then you know, we can work out the possible conclusion.

Me: As if opposite was possible.

Him/….YOU KNOW WHO!: Are you beautiful?

Me: I don’t know.

You know who: Aen. Wrong answer.

Me: Okay, I am not.

YKW: Are you jealous of people who are?

Me: No, I am not jealous. I appreciate their beauty.

YKW: And why would you do that?

Me: Beauty can do wonders. You can escape with it. You can just run away.

YKW: Run away where?

Me: Into daydreams.

YKW: Even if that beauty is not yours?

Me: Beauty is never yours. You think you are beautiful. You know you are beautiful. And even then you are never satisfied with it.

YKW: What makes a person beautiful?

Me: He/she is pleasant to our eyes…I guess?

YKW: If somebody knows that he/she is pleasant to the eyes then why wouldn’t she/he be satisfied with him/herself?

Me: Beauty doesn’t end with being pleasant. It ends with perfection.

YKW: And since nobody can be perfect. Beauty is illusion?

Me: Beauty is the horizon we keep walking towards. It’s the dream we keep chasing.

YKW: So beautiful people are chasing horizon, You, the ugly one, are chasing horizon. And yet you want to be them knowing that they are basically doing the same thing as you.

Me: Here’s the catch-the horizon we are chasing are same yet different.  And they might be doing the same thing as me but then they are NOT doing it the same way. Their way is quite different probably better than mine.

YKW: What are you going to do about that?

Me: Maybe make the billion dollar cosmetic industry draw profit out of me. And do it the “better” way.

YKW: Will that really make you happy?

Me: I don’t have any choice.

YKW: You know you could be satisfied with how you are.

Me: But then that wouldn’t make me superficial.

YKW:  You know being not-superficial is not bad.Why is vanity so important to you?

Me: It’s in my genes. It’s in everybody’s genes. And nature wants this. Nature wants beauty to be there. And it also wants not so beautiful people to be there and appreciate it, maybe run after it.

YKW: Why would nature do that?

Me: Why would nature make murderers? Thugs? Corrupt politicians?

YKW: To maintain the balance?

Me:  Exactly. Maybe. I don’t really know about that. All I know is nature encourages vanity in it’s own way.

YKW: If everything had been beautiful, then, I guess world would have been a lot different. And different here is not a positive one.

Me: How so?

YKW: There would have been nothing to chase. There would have been no motivation. And it doesn’t end with that. Motivation and inspiration has been a key factor for human civilization.

Me: I see this discussion is getting a little too philosophical.

YKW (out of the blue): What if you were beautiful like drop dead gorgeous. What would you do then?

Me: I don’t know?

YKW: You wish you were beautiful. And when you get to be it you don’t know what to do?

Me: I would admire my images and pics a little more, I guess? Date a little more I guess?

YKW: But your life would have end up being equally miserable. From your answer I don’t see you doing any wonders and everything you dreamed of.

Me; What’s your point?

YKW: That you are not as shallow as you think yourself to be.

Me: All this interview to prove me I am not shallow. You do know that’s a good quality. You are actually proving myself to be a good person! Who are you? What did you do to the voice in my head?

YKW: I don’t care if I prove you are good. I just need to prove you wrong.

Me: If I had been beautiful maybe I would have enjoyed the attention. Maybe I would have enjoyed hitting on hot guys knowing that he is not actually out of my league.

YKW: Okay you would date some really cute guys. So what?

Me: So nothing. I am back to square one. My life would have been directionless anyway.

YKW: Bingo! Dumbass!

Me: Okay, I get your point. Actually….. I don’t- you are trying to say beauty doesn’t matter?

YKW: I am trying to say beauty doesn’t matter. That much.

Me: So, what do we do?

YKW: We appreciate them and move on. Not all pretty things have to be yours.

Me: Good. Good. But I can’t change my nature. I am going to remain vain anyway. This discussion wouldn’t change anything.

YKW: I know that. But the real question here is; How much vain is it to be vain.

Me:; Exactly. So,what’s the answer?

YKW: It’s not vain to be vain. Though it is vain to be too vain.

Me: How informative! How do you know you are being too vain.

YKW: When you are crying about it like a baby. And when it starts clouding every decision of yours. When you are so obsessed with it that you forget who you are. You forget what your qualities are. You forget your values. You forget what you were born with. Girl, you have to understand that some things you don’t have to own.

Me: That’s easier said than done.

YKW: Yeah I know. But then you have a choice- Make your life miserable. Or make your life worth living. My favorite? The second one.

Me: I get your point. You are not in your criticizing mood today. But looks like I am. SO, here is what I am going to end with- What we all have to keep ourselves reminding is- Universe is too big you are too small. IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER!

 

YKW: Bingo. That proves you are not shallow. You’re welcome.

Me:

Nevermind-reaction-gif

 

P.S. The title courtesy goes to one of my closest friends– fuck that, the title courtesy goes to THE closest friend of mine who doesn’t read any of the shit I write but then I don’t care as long as she keeps suggesting me the possible “topics” and have late night texting debates about them.

 

 

 

 

So, you have googled how to commit suicide…

Disclaimer; It doesn’t mean I am suicidal. Please. I can’t kill an ant.

It’s just that I have been reading about Robin Williams and Kurt Cobain and some other famous dead celebrities who couldn’t make it out of depression and decided to end their misery once for all.

Though I can’t tell what is it to be that depressed but you don’t need to know rocket science to deduce that it must feel terrible. I’ve had on the other hand, my moments of despair ,of course, where I am actually like “Kill me now” (Somebody please?) but then that goes away once the night sets in and then there is sudden transformation to calmness and beauty of dark and illusion of a better tomorrow that makes me forget everything and  I find myself experiencing happiness and contentment.

Nevertheless, that didn’t stop me from googling how to commit suicide. I even got to pick my favorite;

The best way to kill yourself is Carbon monoxide poisoning.

Fun Fact#1; Who died this way?

Sylvia Plath.

The famous writer, sealed herself in kitchen, inserted her head in the oven and died while her children were sleeping in other room.

The thing is actually  it annoys me that some people get to throw away their lives so easily and on the other hand there are some people who fight their way out until their last breath but they are shown no mercy no matter how strong they have been, how hard they have wished for just one other chance to live and then they die.

It’s just sad.

But then depression that fatal is another kind of disease.The fact that you are just physically sound isn’t a good enough reason to live.

So, okay, nature has weird rules.

Anyway, I have googled the methods of Suicide. How vulnerable am I? And is it some sign that my family should take seriously. Or you as a reader, should you freak out?

No, Not in this case.

The fact that I am writing a blog post on it just shows how non-depressed I am. The sole reason that I googled it was because I was curious.

I am sure many of you must have done that as well. Though I can’t tell if that was out of depression or curiosity.

If former then, dude, please don’t die.

If latter, welcome to the club buddy!

The funny part of doing search on suicide is that it’s ironical.

The chances are quite high that you won’t commit suicide after all even after knowing all the methods. Most of the sites that provide you with the answers also offer you the antidote.

And when you are really depressed then I am sure you won’t be googling about suicide but most probably doing any of these:

a) hang from the ceiling fan

b) jump off a building

c) consume a lot sleeping pills.

d) slit your wrists.

(These conventional methods never go out of fashion even if they are so painful. And they are the first ones to pop in your head solely because you knew these even as a kid).

So, by doing a search on how to commit suicide you are actually doing something opposite: driving your depression away. You are distracting yourself.

So, the major effect of all this shit is that you are not depressed anymore. And your curiosity has been quenched. And in my case, you have procrastinated well as well.

Now, coming to carbon Monoxide poisoning and why is it my favorite.

CO poisoning isn’t painful. Till the very end your body is in illusion that it is taking up oxygen so it doesn’t resist. When your body does realize that it has been tricked, it’s too late and you die with a kind of calmness on your face.

The prospect of dying is something that scares shit out of me in reality. I am too young and there are a lot of things to be done. Places to travel. Blogs to write. Songs to listen to. Books to read. Boys to fall in love with. Though I sometimes do find myself wondering what is the purpose of doing all this. I mean universe is so huge and you are so small. And even if you die what difference does that make?

But.

But.

If it doesn’t make a difference whether you live or die, so wouldn’t you rather choose to live?  I mean dying is not cool. Living is. Even if it is utterly unimportant. There are some things you like to do. Do you ever ask yourself what good does it do? You just do it. Same goes with life. You just live it. And you live it well.

If you’ve voted on the third option and if you need someone to talk to, then you know, you can always contact me or someone you are comfortable with.

Grieve no more, oh heart!

Sometimes I lay under the night, gaze upon a star,
Conceal a forgotten past, grieve upon a scar,
Some mistakes were made, not so cruel, not too intense,
But in arrogance and ignorance, that remain too huge to make a sense.

The footprints of those missteps, lay buried under time,
Too distant, too deep, unlikely to be exposed,
But what about the heart that stay frozen under guilt?
Will I recover? Will I forget? Will my shattered heart be rebuilt?

“Grieve no more, oh heart! Don’t let yourself be burnt,
Some mistakes have to be made, some lessons have to be learnt,
Some decisions, some choices are meant to leave you contrite,
Because unless you know what’s wrong, how will you know what’s right?”