The Silence of My Voice

 There will always be parts of you that are inexplicable, even for you. Though, it seems to matter more to us, than to other people. Try, and think of the moon's reflection in the sea. Rippled, broken, even when it's the moon itself compelling the tides; but somehow, gazing at it, no one doubts that it is, de facto, the moon. That's all of us, the moon in water.  For everyone else, we're simply the moon; whole, still round, still white - even when we keep disrupting, and getting unsettled by our own reflections. It's easy for us to oscillate between treasuring ourselves, or not. But, there is a difference between intelligence, and wisdom, and we need to use only one of them when it comes to how we deal with the daily encounters with ourselves. I know I've said this before, but we're kinder to people, than ourselves. And, that's a huge mistake because when I think back on the times I scalped myself over something unapt, it hurts now to know how hard I was...

 We all live our life with numerous fissures within us; some we've been existing with all this while, and some, made from our own misdemeanours. I feel, as humans, whatever we're foraging for is unto us to ensure it fills us in. Often, we commit a grave gaffe celebrating the encounter of only one of a million elements that we chase, and use it to try, and plug all our crevices. A lot of us are running on empty, most times. To shoulder the albatross, and to also drain something from the same tribulation, of providing all the puzzle pieces, is how we make ourselves, and others juice out. I find it quite flakey when people mention they have a certain set of hobbies, or none at all. I feel people adopting hobbies is their way to relentlessly keep giving themselves a chance to be out there just enough, to be able to get a glimpse of what they're seeking. It's a bleak chance, but one, anyway. Then there's the lot of us too fearful to do anything about it. We often throw o...

I found my time with myself over the years extremely edifying. Half-pint trips to cafes, the movies, the book shops, or even the local nursery lady for a cup of tea. Allowing yourself the time to cognize all that only merely floated through your mind amidst your dreadful industriousness tends make you feel freer, I feel. Of course, some esprit de corps is delightful, but once I started taking myself all over the city, I realised I wasn't appreciating my own presence enough. It's an unnoticeably tiny part of it, but it makes you comprehend the need for a lot of us to travel to places alone, because it's not the newness of an alien city you're trying to discover. Contemplation, and perusal of self is key. I've iterated this in one of the Blogmases - everyone should live alone once. As social animals, there's nothing more discomforting, and challenging than to accept your own company. I reckon, maybe that's why humans came up with the concept of gallivanting, i...

Do you ever feel haunted by people? And, I don't mean dead. I mean functioning, alive people.  I've often remarked that we put our love out to the world very hopefully on our good days. And, by chance, someone gets a whiff of it, and they like what they're caught in the middle of, something extraordinary happens. People fall in love, everyday. Unfailingly. Some of them, even irrevocably.  It's not often a cakewalk to run into exactly what you seek. It's actually a snowball's chance. Yet, a lot of us do. And, when I witness something of the sort, I only wish they both know how fortunate they are. Because, most of us, plainly put, aren't. Being unlucky in love, and just having a luck that wouldn't even let you have the chance to pick yourself up, when you fall, are two drastically varied things. My heart breaks for the latter, because we don't know the struggles a lot of us are having to go through. Some people are vacuums. Regardless of how many times...

Workplaces all over the world are dreadfully condemnatory, and discriminatory. And, at times blindly run, as well. What dictates us to mostly continue dwell there is either love for what we do, or necessity. I've followed suit to the prior, but the latter must be a load of pants. Like I said  here  yesterday. Ambition.  There's a price to pay to for indulging in it. And, that price is your independence. When you rise from the ground up, there's a lot to ameliorate from being zealous, because you gain more than what you had. When you already have a cushion to launch off of, you're in the position to be enriched by others' ambitions.  Like I said yesterday, need because of greed is ambition, and the price of that is your independence. Need because of need is helplessness, and this time, peace is the price to pay. And, with your peace as the price to pay, the one thing you're never able to do is surround yourself with people who would share a quid pro quo with you,...

In my teens, I dreamt about everything materialistic. In my early 20s, I dreamt about money. In my latter 20s, well, there's a lot more. We grow, we grow up, and we place a price on what's vital to have. We put a value to worth in diverse measures. Even ourselves. Especially, ourselves. Whoever taught us, or told us that we're the kind to which a denomination can be placed. It's easy to believe good things about yourself; easier to believe the bad ones.  We're often not very hospitable to ourselves. We're all torn between believing whether we're virtuous of our own love, or not. I'm not very implicit at this point, why we're in a steady battle with ourselves because of others' demeanours. It's an impact, sure. But, I feel we give too much of a voice to others, before we remember to give ours a value.  I've always felt criticism, feedback, and discipline is the healthiest way to grow. And, I hold a deep respect, in a place very personal in...

 Self-doubt. Self-confidence. Self-love. Plants. Invasion. Completion. Phases. Barricades. Paranoia. Hope. Success. Laughs. Puppers. Help. Possibilities. Comfort zones. Discomfort. Criticism. Faith. Direction. Growth. Panic. Alarm. Revivals. More plants. Accusations. Silences. Oranges. Pretence. Loss. Enlightenment.  Illusions of friendships.  Broken friendships.  Friendships that wouldn't let go.  Decisions. Pain. Strangers. Unconditionality. Newness. Even more plants. Seek. Self-respect. Dreams. Some more plants. More hope. Work. And, more. What're you thankful for this year? More tomorrow. Until then. Artist:  小老虎-tgr Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, A.

There are infinite moments between where we're now, and where we wish to be. Though, it's glib how we're never chuffed with our current situation. And, we're easily petrified of the space that keeps us apart from our wishing place. Some people call it future planning. Though, I'm not sure it really is that. Money, no object, success, healthy relationships - the usual memo? Although while ticking through the checklist that gets you there, or wherever else you anticipate, do you have a list to make sure you're taking more with you, than leaving more behind? Didn't reckon so.  We ardently lie to ourselves about what it is we want, because we either aren't brave enough to accept what we want, or zealous enough to put in the work to verily seize the same. And, once we stop lying to ourselves, that's the most truthful we'll ever be in our lives.  There's an elephant in the room that we never address, mostly because there's a multiverse of rooms...

It was a few years ago that I wrote Wadjet (you can read it  here .) It's one of the pieces that's closest to my heart, amidst a few. 2013-14 was a period in my life when I really came across myself. It was the point where the teenager in me had begun to dumb down and morph into someone who was awaiting to be found. Those couple of years was the beginning of me putting myself out there - for judgement, love, hate, friendship and everything insignificant amidst all of that. I was at the crossroads where I couldn't push myself enough to be a part of a camaraderie, or be on my Jack Jones, either. I feel, for the sake of our own sanity, our minds are perpetually on the mend, so it'll always engineer a way for us to be eased into anything peculiar.  During that time, the only person I ever went out with, was myself. College drives, cafes, foggy morning walks, dates with myself, movie for one - I met people, I saw people. And for the first time, I saw myself, and reall...

Overly sweet coffee, and the underestimated bland tea, Broken spines of a book, and fallen leaves of the gingery tree, Boisterous silences, and the straining piano notes, Broken phone networks, and prudently hearted notes, Loquacious senses, and sardonic tongues, Unknown ignorances, and methodical glances, Stolen truths, and concealing lies, Surreptitious smiles, and reluctant cries, Starry nights, and tacitly retired drives, Solitary overhauls, and conjoined cautions, Supervised footsteps, and the agreeable wind chimes, Blistering softness, and the disquieting light, Fleeting sheets, and dented bolsters, Desiccated  throats, and clammily sultry bodies, Unkempt love, and the copious confessions, The incessant denials, and the fate's laughter in your face.  Oh, the inevitability of things. Reminiscent, Ak.  

"But they never warned me", You retaliated, Your voices screeched, your heart breached, You wriggle and slither, Skulk and scuttle,  You prostrate yourself, just to hold on to it, Like a man edging on the valley,  Rasping, and scraping to live, With each hope fracturing, Every dream fragmented, You still endure to tussle and brawl, "Help me", you plead, "Save me", you weep, And she simply laughed, "Why, but?" Lightly seizing the end of her robe, From your those once strong hands, Now frantic, deplorable, wretched, You mislay her, And there he was,  Hiding under the heavy embroidery of the drapes, Smiling, laughing, reminiscing, Think of it, of the alerts, He did warn you, "I'm Greed, I'll take what I give." And he stood behind the curtain, still, Belting yet another name off the list. I just breathed. So long,  Ak.

How terrifyingly sincere are those words, Which never left your mouth, The words, that still exist only on the tip of your tongue, Those words, igniting fire inside of you, Fire, most people won't get near to, Fire, that's only seeming smoke to others, Your own words, having the courage to destroy you,  Purposelessly, of course, Like a child eager to play, throwing toys at you, Only, that he doesn't intend harm, Words, unspoken of,  Words, mentioned of only,  In the darkest corners of your mind, Words, stringing along forming a dangerous story, Story, all yours, Words, still yours, Why so then, do they seem foreign? Why do they put up like a tenant, in a place, That's all theirs? Why do they run and hide in the coils of our mind, Each time we wish to spit them out? Words, that are horrified,  Of being rejected by the hearer, Words, that are born by those few, Who know where to press the right nerves, Or, the wrong o...

Can you take me someplace else? Where my diary isn't the one, Whom I tell things, I used to tell you,  Somewhere,  That's not home, A place you're homesick for,  A world, not to be found, But to get lost in, Where there's no tax on coffee,  And people live to read, Somewhere,  Where the freshness of the cakes, Is the only intoxication to resort to, Where the wine is shared with only those you love,  And not to forget them, Somewhere, That is untouched by profit, That is virgin in its most spectacular manner, Somewhere,  Where you can talk to stars, And instead of guiding you, they hear you, For a change? Where the moon is unblemished, And the sun shines only until, Your warm skin shines to make you stand out, Do you know of a place like this? Take me to that place, Where you're the only person I tell things, And my diary is the only one to tell things, I can't tell you.  In hunge...

She sat by the same window, stirring her coffee. Looking out - thinking - nothingness. The comprehension of the most simplest activities of the human mind stayed well beyond her reach. She came here often to be astray in the smoke from the chimneys that preceded the green lake. Through the cloud of the smoke, she kept her attention out for the water. Water that seemed misty from the chimney smoke. Water that was true. Water, that was imperviously solid. Water, that reflected everything for what it was. She smirked, thinking funnily, how the haze from the steam of her coffee, was just so essential for her to obstruct the distractions the world was ready to serve on a plate, each time that she was here. Alike the steam of her coffee blanketed her when she rendered herself most vulnerable, the smoke of the chimneys, never let anyone see the true face of the water. She often thought to herself, how unfair for the water to be abandoned out there naked. Oh, how she could understand the sha...

Helplessness.  It's hard to not be deafened by its inconspicuous screams. Shrill, hard, hurtful. When it touches someone, it ceases the soul. It renders, the unfortunate, inhumanly vulnerable. And sometimes, only sometimes, allows the white light to peep in. Imparting its only emotion to the one it strikes on, it never leaves. It sucks them out, feeds itself off them. Its presence starts to be felt in the gut, rising to your heart, increasing its beats, reaching out for your throat to squash it, wrangle it, and choke all your strengths and happiness down the drain. Those people with a frown on their heads, a doubt in their eyes, and a silent scream in their slightly opened mouth? Yes, them. They're the ones helplessness has been feeding off of. Nibbling at their coils, it spreads like termites in your body. You'll feel it. When immobility will dictate over you, and thinking of a way out will only burn those extra cells in your brain, you'll know it. You'll know ...

Things we do not expect happen more often than we wish. Anticipation of something that's never going to happen in your hopeful possibilities is the worst form of human torture. Ask a dying man his last wish. Seldom would you find one asking for nothing. Sounds hilarious, doesn't it? Someone dying with all their wishes fulfilled. And that's where the crux of it all lies. The entire gist of it comes down to letting go. We, humans, take immense pride in embracing what mutilates us. We're nurtured with the notion to endeavour whatever it is that we want till our last breath, and if we don't achieve it, die trying. I'm sure the grass is always greener on the other side, and when I reach there, I can see the weeds up close. Until then, I'll try watering my own premature grass. You'll be told to attempt harder, but none will appreciate if you find your own America. We are used to seeing results, but the effort is what we ignore. We brand those strong who try to...

"Remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it." - Suzanne Collins I could keep running back to you. What's bound to happen, will; no matter how hard you try to change the course of planets, they'd still be rotating and would still be on their axis. I could literally sit and stare at your beauty for hours, and the beautiful part is that you'll let me. Those scars. They ooze your sensuality, your strength, your determination, your loyalty. The ones that run deep within - I want to trace them with my fingers like on a Braille. So that they narrate their own legend. I like you, at times, and I feel I know you at times, so I'm not going to let go off you, as of now. Of course, one can't measure love by the amount of words exchanged. Unfair, it would be, wouldn't it? We do talk - it's only that we say very little. Your sins? I might hate them, but I can't simply deny that I'm in love with the sin...

Amarillo todas las! Yes, the year's about to end. Yet again. Nothing new. There are always things you wish you'd done or hadn't. Things you regret doing, things you cherish. This year's been more of a regretting list, but by the time half the year passed, I reckoned that maybe, just MAYBE I've been looking in all the wrong places for affection and care. A few amends? Of course! What would it hurt, right? NEVER. Never ever spill your heart out to people who don't trust you. Sounds silly, eh? Not in the least. Tell them whatever you want, they'll never believe you. It's better to talk to people you don't trust. You'll eventually end up doing just the contrary in time. STOP INGESTING SO MUCH OF CAFFEINE.  OKAY! That's not possible for me. So let's move ahead, companèro?  Write more. Read more. Click more. Sleep more. Talk more. Eat more. (Bah! Who am I kidding? I'll explode if I eat anymore. :/) Throw some people out my life. Whi...

I wake up every morning at six. Actually it's more like staying up through the night till the point when it's my real time to wake up. I'm slogging myself, and yet the work doesn't come to an end. How will it, when I have only 24 hours for 30 hours worth of work?! I drag myself past each day, in the hope that something nice'll happen. Something/one will bring a smile to me. A genuine smile. One that I've actually forgotten what feels like to be done in response.  And then I look around. And I see people. Real people, fake people, helpful people, sadu people, leechad people, kind people, happy people, whining people. I try looking within. And I find myself. Should be enough, isn't it? YOU should be enough for yourself. [Read: Satya. I love you, Tambi :*]  I bend down and shake my head, look up smiling, and get back to my work.  Life is okay! 

I've paid Karma enough, so not anymore. I'd begin to start believing in love again because of you. I'm not implementing that you weren't different. You are. You every bit are. If I had a nickel for every guy as amazing as you, I'd only have five cents. You don't have to believe me if you don't want to. Nobody does, so it's not a requite for you either. The problem is that there are too many memories. And each memory evokes another memory of you. And you love soon, and you leave sooner. It was ironic how I judged you and ended up liking you anyway. And it took a little. Only a little. Remember how you said that we were customized for each other? Yeah, that. I don't believe that we were. You just turned out to be somebody who tried relating each countenance of me to some relative facet of yours. And boy, were you awesome at doing it! I told you your voice played havoc to my mind. It really did. That soft lush ring. That was half the reason I did everyt...