philosophy, Poetry

Let her explode.

My oh my!
Look at that girl,
Look at that girl being so shy,
Reserved, antisocial, the one who doesn’t give a damn,
The cool one, the coolest one,
who doesn’t have the fear of “missing out”
Ah! Trapped inside the shell,
despite being outside it,
often, so often, so often!
How does it feel to lose your character?
One thing that you thought you are,
One thing that you thought you accepted!
But wait, oh wait!
Your acceptance escaped!
Now, your definition is running short of words,
How would you find your meaning now?
How would you find it all over again?
My oh my!
Look at that girl,
Look at that girl being not so shy,
Outspoken, carefree, mingling, friendly,
A genuine smile that doesn’t deny-
That doesn’t deny the voice within,
That doesn’t deny the things that could have been,
That doesn’t deny the moment right here,
That doesn’t deny the fact you care.
Ah! A genuine fictitious smile!
Damn. That girl.
Help her? Save her? Protect her?
But how would you see the fireworks then?
Let her explode instead.

***

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Poetry

Bleached white

Over and over, every single day,

She walks down the same hallway,

The days have passed but the clocks have stopped,

Even she finds her footprints carelessly mopped,

Memories are soaked, washed and bleached white,

Thinking about them, analyzing every night,

So aware and yet she clings on to the past,

Delightfully watching the painfully aghast,

Exhausted even the frontal lobe is tired now,

Slipping into the flight mode, it long ago waved, “Ciao”

“If only you would stand up and be the person you truly are!”

“Shut up” says she again, to the well wishing heart,

So joyfully self destructive, so foolishly unaware,

Such a bad actress and yet she pretends she doesn’t care,

What should I do with her? She hears but does not listen!

Happy being boarded to the train with no destination!

So, now I am quiet which is quite not right,

But believe me I have tried all that I might,

Or not who knows; maybe I am not the well wisher after all,

Maybe just a dumb girl playing with her doll,

Maybe my thoughts too are soaked, washed and bleached white,

After all I too over analyze every single night,

How can I be sure of everything I ever do!

Forever judging was it false or was it true!

So, be as it may, throw the mirrors away,

I know, ours is such a shameful waste of talent!

But fuck it, we will laugh running in the circles of regret, insecurity and lament.

 

 

Inspiration, my life, philosophy

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

food for thought, philosophy, Poetry

Where is the I in your I?

How many days have you forgotten? How many days are there to forget?
How many deeds have got you deceived? How many are there that you regret?
Crushed under opinions, hidden behind good impressions,
Caught up in denial, under vain beautiful expressions,
The clock is ticking; the so-called time is flying by…
And yet you lie stuck searching for the I in your I…

Adapting, conforming, certain things have to be learnt
Lost and confused yourself, some dreams have to be burnt…
Between the choices of rights and wrongs,
You stretched ignorance for too long…
Now, relevance doesn’t make sense,
The prospect of living is too intense,
There is a thin line between the choice -whether to live or to die…
Just how far will you go to find the I in your I?

Why should you chase the sound if echoes are perfectly fine?
Why should you chase chaos if life is perfectly aligned?
Tired of possessing things that you don’t even deserve,
Tired of invading space that you should have reserved,
A persona is all you have, Identity is long gone lost
A thing you thought you bought; now you have to pay the cost.
And the clock is ticking and ticking; the so-called time is flying by…
And yet you lie stuck searching – Where is the I in your I?

Inspiration, philosophy, Poetry

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.