Sleepless

She tossed uneasily in a restless slumber. Each night she retired to bed wondering what exhausted her more – the nightmares that did not let her sleep soundly, or the nightmarish reality she found herself living every morning? Perhaps, this whole life had been one big mistake.

“If you wish to call it that, at least acknowledge it as a beautiful mistake,” he said.

Her eyelids rolled upwards, and then she rolled them back in – she really was in no mood to open her eyes. “When did you come?” she asked. “I’ve missed you; you know!”
He looked at her serene face that now showed the hint of a faint smile. “I’m right here. Why don’t you just open your eyes.”
She felt him crawl into bed and settling down beside her. “I’ve really missed this,” she sighed as she allowed herself to be spooned. It had been a tiring day, but she knew that he already knew that. He always knew everything. And he always accused her of the same.

She allowed her mind to travel back to the time of their parting. He was the wanderer on a mission to discover new lands. She was the North Star meant to stay fixed. Even if it was in a sky of chaos and muddle. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that no matter how far he went, his compass always pointed in her direction. She was still the point around which his whole world turned. Yet she knew she had to push him away. He was meant for greater things. She too had a different purpose. “It won’t matter,” she had said. “Life’s short, and we’re only here for a brief period of time. Let’s just live our purpose, collect these experiences, and meet on the other side?” It had seemed to be the most sensible thing to do at that time.

As she snuggled up to him, she mumbled, “I wish you were really here. Things are just so easy when you’re around. When I’m lying next to you, in your arms, time seems to have come to a standstill. There really is nothing more I find myself desiring out of this life.”
“I needed this too,” he said, gently kissing her forehead. “You’re my favourite place to go to when my mind needs peace.”

Dreaming of being in the other’s arms, both had a good night’s sleep after ages. The nomad in him wondered how the cosmos managed to travel the world every single minute, every nano-second, every single day. What from him had travelled through into her world even after he’d left? And what part of her had still not left his side? Did anyone ever really leave? Was there any place in the Universe where they could just park themselves forever? Did such a place even exist?

“Not yet,” smiled the Devil. “And, perhaps, never,” and once again, sucked them into the world of nightmares. But it didn’t really matter anymore. 

“Everything is an illusion,” her voice served as a reminder calling out to him even amidst those nightmares.
“And that’s no excuse to not experience everything,” he chuckled and dozed off thinking of her – his favourite illusion.

Lights

In the course of our life, on one fine, seemingly ordinary day, we cross paths with someone with whom we feel a bizarre sort of connection. For some inexplicable reason, we feel more attached to this stranger than anyone else. The stranger feels closer to us than our closest family member, and even more dependable than our best friend. And after that, life is no more the same…

The stranger almost feels like our guardian angel. Everything is so perfect that surely only the Gods could have sent them! There is some truth in this – they definitely are in our life for a Higher purpose. Perhaps, to teach us an important lesson, or to just protect us during a difficult phase. Worries just seem to evaporate in their presence, and there isn’t any sorrow so great that it doesn’t fade away in the comforts of their arms. We put our complete faith in them and even if there are times when trouble does brew up in this La La Land, everything clears up in due time.

However, it’s always wise to remember that they aren’t ours for keeps no matter how strongly we grow to love them. They may enter our lives as Saviours, but they cannot do this job all their lives. At some point, instead of blindly submitting to them as our protectors, we need to take the reins in our hands and learn the art of saving ourselves. That is when the process is fully complete and their purpose fulfilled.

After fulfilling their purpose, they may just exit our lives and become strangers to us again. That will hurt. With the mask of the guardian angel off and the halo lifted, one may wonder what was so special about them that made us give them the power to hurt us and leave us in disarray.

If ever such a thought crops up, remind yourself that you are walking towards the wrong end of the tunnel. While the whole world may appear bleak and dark, and you feel that you cannot see any light around you as your continue plunging into the darker depths of the tunnel, there will always be light coming from you. Never forget that. Even if you cannot see it, everyone else can.

We are all lights leading the way for one another. It is the light in us that enables us to see the light in others. If ever you find yourself being immersed in a world of darkness, remember all you need to do is to look within – your inner light is all that you need to light up the whole world!

Keep Shining!

A Note From The Rain

 This is for anyone who feels like continuing to hold on to something that Life wants them to let go of.

Hello!

When you want to hold on to your dream or a love for anything, and you feel like the whole world wants you to walk away from it, but you want to stay, I know how it feels. And I think everyone does…

I know you feel like the X that you drew on a map so many years ago seems further than ever…I know you feel like you cannot appreciate yourself no matter how hard you try because no matter how much effort you put in, they never seem enough…I know all these things because I recognize that look in your eyes – the look of tamed frustration of holding on to something that does not want to be held on to…I too understand what it feels like to burn with the fiery desires that one has the capability to possess and get burnt...I too understand what it feels like to have that heart made of fire-wood have its flames doused by the sudden shower of rain. I too have many questions, doubts and uncertainties. Questions that seemingly have no answer, doubts that want to pull at your strings of hope until they snap, and uncertainties that wish you would move on to something more stable.

You are not alone. And together, you and I, may have a solution; we may revel in entropic peace. Bear with me, the rain falls through my heart too, and I am simply trying to stop it from crumbling.

I feel it is the literal rain, an accompaniment to the drizzle of ideas and the hurricane of emotions that always makes melancholy more poetic than it actually is. Or, maybe, it’s because when life pulls the trigger, it is your own tears that comprise the rain that falls as dead bullets. That is not terribly surprising for the Universe thrives on War, and Life just so happens to be your personalised battle-field. In many ways, you have known all this time that a white murder was not too far along. The death of a dream you dreamed, a love you loved, a wish you wished or a belief you believed. Loss in any form is agonizing. That is where the rain comes handy. According to me, it gives the most beautiful explanation of this particular situation where you can feel yourself break; but it is not a clean break, it is not a clean fracture…It’s louder. It is the sound of rain in the most powerful thunderstorm you’ve been trapped in. Thousands of raindrops on roses, but they resemble thorns. Oh and the rain is strong; the drops relentlessly hit you, and the feeling is devastating. They shatter a part of you into billions of tiny pieces that you cannot put back together by yourself.

I know you wish things were different. Everyone does. But you have to be strong and you have to keep holding on, if it’s what you believe in. Hold on, despite the pain that comes from the ropes cutting into your skin. Hold on, in spite of the storm tearing at the billowing sails of your ship. Hold on, without a care for what the world has to say to you because that’s the kind of person you are. You drew the world around yourself because you believed in it. And you cannot let ‘Life’ tear you apart. Hold on not for the insecurities you have of the implications, hold on for the connection you possess with your dream. Hold on, not for false hope, hold on for true love. Hold on because you know of nothing else but holding on until you change Life’s mind. It is possible and it’s not. We have to be open to all possibilities. But, hope is never lost. Hold on to it. Hold on to yourself.

If you have to let go of something, let go of the questions. One day, they shall be answered. Let go of doubts. Your doubts can someday be rectified. Don’t doubt yourself, your fire shall burn again if you let hope fuel it. I know it’s hard right now, but in case things don’t work out, I promise that uncertainty can be made certain. You may have to live with the pain for a while, but wear it proudly. It simply makes you more human. Let go of the despair and remind yourself to love and love and love yourself. Hold on to the power of your heart, and feel it beat not just for itself, but for the love of your dream. Hold on to that. That’s all that matters.

Try to let yourself smile a little when it rains.

Love,

Someone who knows exactly how it feels.

Goodbye 2016!

It’s the last few days of the year. Goodbye, 2016. Finally, this year has come to an end – a year that was a total roller-coaster ride in terms of emotions, memories, and achievements. In hindsight, it was just like any other year I suppose. Some part of me is glad it’s coming to a close, a part of me is not (I mean what do I do if the coming year turns out to be worse than this one!). Excuse my cynicism, it’s a side-effect of ageing. To be honest, cynicism is nothing other than disappointed idealism; something I realized the other day when my best friend was trying to drill in my head that a few bad days do not account for an entire bad year. To be entirely honest, it has been a good year – a year full of lessons and clichéd inner awakenings that are again a part of the natural growing-up process.

It’s weird looking back at who I started 2016 with, and who I’m ending 2016 with…Who I was a year ago, and who I am right now. I am a much happier person today than I was at that moment. I may not have changed for the better, but I’ve definitely changed for good. I feel closer to my companions, I feel more at home than I’ve ever been. 2016 has been a whirlwind of change, yet I still feel centered. This brings me to what I wanted to talk about – change (what they say is the only constant in life!). We love it, we hate it, but in the end, we just have to deal with it because there is nothing else we can really do about it. People change, ideas change, situations change, and before you know it, the year ends and you are a completely different person – or, perhaps, as I’d like to believe, a newer, improved version of yourself.

Reality is subjective, but 2016 has made me aware, to some extent, of what is real and true; and as I’ve allowed myself to be awakened to my feeling of being, I realize that it was everything that I already knew. I am what I am trying to become and achieve. I do not become loving, I am love. I do not become sincere, I am sincerity, and so on. So yes, that’s it. The ocean persists, waves come and go. You are the entire ocean in a single drop and not a single drop in the ocean. Life happens. Moments come and go. Just seize every moment.

I’ve noticed people getting annoyed at my optimism. Few have managed to muster courage and ask why I am happy all the time. There are many who claim they can never imagine me being sad. I just feel that people fail to understand – I am not happy all the time, and I can be sad too – last year, was particularly hard for me, and there have been moments where I’ve been in the depths of despair. But, I feel that if there could be an accurate measurement – life would actually be finite suffering and infinite hope. For me, what I learnt in 2016 was that being negative is a sure-shot guarantee for ruining things. Being positive, on the other hand, might just make a difference…or it might not. But I am willing to take that risk. Hope…Hope is everything. If you haven’t found it, keep looking. I hope you will find what you are looking for, the coming year.

The most important lesson I have learnt in 2016 is that you should just seize the moment and tell people how important they are to you. Not because they could leave at any moment or because they could return to you, but because they matter and it’s worth saying something. Parting ways with people forever is easy, but when you find someone you want to keep around, you should do something about it. You get 31,536,000 seconds in a year. Have you used at least one of them to tell someone they mean a lot to you? I did in 2016.

I could go on and on and on. The memories and lessons, good or bad, have been countless and unforgettable. You survived. So did I. And now, we’ve stumbled onto another blank canvas. Paint a masterpiece. Write a bestselling novel. Contribute to humanity in any way you can. I’ve learnt a lot the past year, including the fact that you are only as insignificant and irrelevant s you convince yourself to be. It’s not wrong to be upset or sad or cynical as long as you can shake it off and let go. Letting go was a particularly difficult lesson to master for me, and it’s a lesson that still needs to be fully learnt. Another lesson – it’s not weak to be afraid or sad, it’s human; and actually a tiny reminder that you have something to lose, and gratitude is the way to go.

Take a breath and pause. Reflect on the year gone by. Hold precious memories close. Forgive. Let go. Believe in second chances. Love and be loved. That’s what New Year is all about. It’s time to make a new start and let go of the past– just take some moments to say that final good-bye. 

The Call

It had been a long time since their last meeting. Every time, she missed him, she stared at the sky. After all, no matter where they were, they were all under the same sky; and they both fell asleep wishing under the same stars under the same sky they shared. People always told her that time is a wonderful healer, but she had seen how time had destroyed them – perhaps, it was too late for them to be able to salvage their situation. Time could heal, time could rip a person into pieces. But, time could not change the story. Ever since he had left, she found herself constantly swimming between two waves – the flood of letting in, and the torrent of letting go. Sometimes, she felt so frustrated that she thought it was time to just leave and turn to dust. If the essence of her life was leaving him, she wondered if she could just walk down the old path one last time, gather everything that she wanted and re-paint the entire road red. She missed the lazy evenings they spent together and wished she could just go back to simpler times. She knew there was still a chance – albeit a teeny tiny one – but she was not sure she wanted to take it. It required a lot of effort, and she wasn’t sure she could invest so much again. Besides, only a miracle could really save them, and she did not believe in miracles.

As he waited for his train to arrive, he remembered the first time he had met her. The swarm of people rushing to enter the train while she was attempting to get out had scared her. As soon as she saw him at the platform, she just rushed into his arms, and the world around seemed to have come to a stand-still. The way she’d held on to him made him feel incredible and uniquely warm. He wondered if she had ever been horrified the way she’d been that day. It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea to endure the journey on Mumbai local-trains during peak-hours, and that had been her first time. In that moment, all she’d needed was a whisper and a hug. He hadn’t quite known what to do, but on that day, she’d made it clear that trust had no faces, only promises, and her vulnerability had involuntarily made him promise that he would protect her. She was the first person from whom he learnt that the world deserves to be loved; even by broken people, like her and him. As he thought of her, he realized that what they shared was beautiful, even though it had been dead for some years. Had it really been that long, or it just felt that way because time only seemed to fly when she was by his side chattering away to glory? He realized that the night did not always need to be dark and cloudy; light always shone to drive the darkness away. After all, they lived on a blue planet that circled around a raging ball of fire, next to a moon that moved the sea – who was to say that miracles don’t happen?

The time had come for change. It was time to recover the good parts of their life. Happiness was now just a phone call away, and this time he did not hesitate as he pulled out his mobile-phone and dialled her number. 

Every Night

He was more than a thousand miles away, but he still stayed with her. He often said careless words, and sometimes, nothing at all. She still did not love him any less. Sometimes, she thought she could escape him by slipping into a different world, but he stayed with her even when she was asleep; and whenever she felt happy in a dream, she knew it was because the ripples of a forgotten river were laughing in his voice.

Why was it that there was nothing in her that wasn’t his? Why did he possess her to this extent? Of course, she knew the answers, but just knowing did not make the path to acceptance any easier…

She had always been her harshest critic. She was filled with flaws. Yet, he had managed to find some source of awe in her and made her see that she was beautiful. She found herself staring at herself through the small mirror called love each day. And each time, she only saw him there.

She had always prided herself over being practical. Her eyes that had never dared to dream before his arrival, no longer dreamt at all after he left. Her dreamless eyes were still his. 

She knew the vague words that she wrote with her hand were only desperate attempts to reach him somehow. He’d held her hand, and led her into thinking it was forever…

Her feet, when they had walked with him, were often lost. But in her heart, she knew that as long as they were walking together, no matter where they went, it was the right way. She knew that if he called, her feet would run to him even today, despite being weighed down with grief – grief over his inactions that let her leave.

Her lips quivered every time she thought of him. Once upon a time, they used to smile most honestly. The quivering lips were still his.

Claiming her heart should have been the hardest part, but he easily convinced it that he was true. Her heart had never believed in too much too soon, but it had really believed in him. But his determined destruction had been too swift. Now her heart was broken, but every fragment of it was still his. 

Now that he had left, she realized he had more than her heart, her feet, her lips and her eyes – he actually owned her whole. In the depths of her soul, there was now a void. And from somewhere there, even though it ached, she still loved him. He was a little raw piece of her. A piece that had gone missing. 

One day, she hoped she would be able to find her freedom. Somehow, she was convinced that she would be able to have it. It would be in everything; in everything that she wanted to renounce. She wondered what she would do then. She’d find herself in that everything. Then, what would she do with herself everywhere?

As her mind agonized over these aimless rambles, once again, the night called to be awake. It wanted to stay longer with her, within. It was there that she’d meet him. Yet again.  

The Travellers

She was tired. No matter how hard she tried, he was everywhere. From the corner of signs, she could see him. Even though they kept telling her what to do next, she kept seeing him and nothing else. In the end, they just gave up. She wished they hadn’t. It was not like she was purposely ignoring their precious advice. They just did not get it.

He was her road. No matter where she was, and no matter where she wished to reach, he was the journey she would have to make in order to reach her destination. They kept telling her that many times the journey is the destination. So, did that make him her destination?

Sometimes, she tried changing her direction on the same path. She’d long realized that the path is not always a straight road, and, at times, it is easier to keep walking on the same path, exploring the different directions. But why was it that in each direction she only met him? Did he already know she was arriving? At some level, did he also believe that she was his path?

Once or twice, she stopped to wonder. Did he read her world in the same way as she read his? As he became a page-turner in her world, had she also become a bookmark in his? He still dwelled in her world, but was she also beginning to enter into the spaces between his stars? He read through the stories of light, and she read through those cracks, through which that light entered and shone.

Were they both travellers meant to keep stopping by in each other’s life? If that was indeed the case, did she have the courage or the will to wish herself and him a “Happy Journey” and meet one more time?

“On the map, it appears that I am going home. But the truth is that I’m only getting more and more lost,” he sighed.

“On the map, it seems that I’m already home. But the truth is that I’m lost with him on his road,” she realized.

Embracing Change

It took a pitcher of sangria and an imaginary series of hundred “he said, she said” conversations to finally seat myself down and calmly reflect on the changes I desired to make in the coming year to make the most out of every moment each day.

The last year was a huge turning point for me at a personal level (even if those around me feel differently). I gave up on things which were extremely close to me and looking back at those, I think I needed a lot of courage to stand tall in front of my decisions and stick to them every single day. Giving up on things that you have cherished the most is not easy because even if that thing is not physically present in your space, you still carry a part of it in you and you can never go back to being the person you were before that experience.

This year, I am embarking on a quest to rediscover my true self. I no longer want to feel lost. I am no longer the person I used to be and even though I may not like this new person that I have become, I choose to acknowledge all these parts of me as the first step towards self-love.

In retrospect, maybe everything that looks scary from afar is not.  After all, the past year was difficult but it was also a great learning experience from which I came out a stronger, wiser person. All those decisions which were once hard to take also added the extra zing to my being. I no longer need a veil to stand amidst a crowd.

I want 2016 to be the year of change. I wish to make decisions that will keep me happy in the long run. Hopefully, by the end of this year, I will have more reasons to be grateful than I currently have.

Everyone tells us that change is good. But nobody tells us what happens after we decide to take it up and make change the way of life. This year, I am choosing to embrace change.

Let’s hope my list of things to be happy about multiplies in 365 days! *fingers crossed*

The Twenty-Six Year Old Child

It was an orange scarf that hid in a corner of my cupboard and I never bothered giving it a second glance. I had never worn it, and would probably never use it, and so it lay tucked in its corner, bearing the burden of other clothes piled on top of it, almost forgotten. Until one fateful evening when my mother told me to give it away in order to clear some space. Despite the fact that it took her over half an hour to explain which scarf she was talking about, I put my foot down and refused to get rid of it. And so it stayed in my cupboard, and it still has never been used.

As I reflect on my behaviour, I know it is the kind that probably a four year old is more suited for, and I wonder what made me react in this strange possessive manner. It isn't just about the scarf but, in general, I am not someone who likes doing away with things. I have been this way since I was a child, and at twenty-six, I am not sure if I am any different.

I often wonder: do we really change with time? Do we actually grow up or are we the same people inside who would react to things the same way they'd do before if only they were given the space? As we start developing physically, our process of socialization ensures that we start reacting in ways that we are expected to, but do we really change as a person inside ourselves?

The process of growing up involves behaving in a way as expected by our peers, family members and significant others. So, we try hiding the green monster with a smile when we greet some people. We brush off our irresponsible side with finesse and each and every moment, we stand, all geared up to brave the big, fierce world. We try hard to fill the gap and be the person we are expected to be in order to match the image they have of us. But, somewhere inside, we still enjoy those small joys; we still like to do silly things; and some wishes that were once our dreams continue to haunt us.

Each one of us, according to me, is unique, and born with a different set of abilities, habits and desires. Rather than trying so hard to fit in with the rest, we should just own up to who we truly are and work towards achieving what we were born to do. If your first instinct as a child was to gather up some vessels and make music, chances are that it still is! Hence, this Children's Day, let us resolve to loosen up a bit, and be the person our inner voice has been screaming out to be. After all, we don't really "grow up", we just learn to hide ourselves better.

Happy Children's Day Everyone! Let Us Always Remember To Celebrate The Child In Each One Of Us!

Heart-Break

The first time she read the note, she had no idea it was not just any note, but the one that would change her life. In the time that she finished reading it, her life would begin its process of being rewritten:

Dear Beloved,

Not a moment goes by without me hunting for a life worth living or seeking knowledge that is worth knowing. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I therefore have everywhere to go! Your love has transformed me in ways that I previously could not fathom. It gives me strength to seek newer lands, collect more pieces of me, and build myself anew.
I will always remember you even in my new kingdom! I'm sorry I cannot take you with me.

Yours Truly.

He had always been a nomad at heart. She knew she would not be able to keep him forever. But this rather unceremonious parting was too much to bear. He had always talked about exploring strange lands, discovering new ideas, but what had caused him to take off suddenly? She tried rewinding to their last meetings to see if she had said or done something to tick him off but she found no clue. Alas, it was a futile exercise. Revisiting past events never led anyone to discover the truth. It only resulted in interpretations. Would he ever return? She wondered about the possibility. It was of no use either. The future was just an illusion.

He was gone and she was alone. Suddenly, the silence gripped her. She despised silence. Whenever a thick smog of silence descended, the yapping voices inside her head became all the more audible, rising to the surface, one by one. She liked to believe that she knew all the voices that resided in that inner harm, yet she was scared of chancing upon those she had never met. Together, the voices just made noise instead of music, each talking at the same time as the other, in tones louder than the others, without listening to a word of what was being said. The voices frightened her. They made her scared of her own diversity. She hated coming in contact with the disintegration inside of her. It was rather unsettling.

She knew that she had always been a clinger. Even now, she wanted to cling, to bits and pieces of his existence here and there, with no firm grounding, no center and no coherence in her life. To put it simply: she was a mess.

She stared at the note yet again:

So, he was setting off to conquer kingdoms? What was he trying to prove to her? Was he trying to convince her of his valour or spirit? Why had he run away, evading all questions she would have asked if he had said a proper good-bye?

But then, she wondered, if she would have ever asked the questions that were now racing inside her head. In all this while they had been together, not once had she unashamedly bared her soul before him. He did not know much about her fears and scars. She had never rendered herself vulnerable in front of him. He had never been presented with an opportunity to realize that her greatest strength could be found in her flaws.

He too had his insecurities. He was too afraid to seize what he loved, and therefore was blindly chasing unknown territories. It was alright if love passed him by. After all, he would still have his new kingdom.

She found a way too to alleviate her pain. It was a simple solution, really. After all, whenever one wishes to destroy something, all one needs to do is surround it with walls. So, a massive wall she built around herself replacing all her now-obsolete beliefs with the new. No more did love call out to her, excitedly telling her to let go. Now, she listened to the voice of reason and approached everything with care and doubt. "Be careful, protect yourself" was her prime concern. This new approach never let her fall. Her old belief had only caused hurt and had her life falling into ruins.

The stranger heard her story and could not help but smile. After all, it's only in ruins that one finds treasures. Her broken heart hid many treasures; and it was now up to him to uncover them all...

The Understanding

It was a crowded day at the mall. Two friends mercifully managed to get off work early in order to catch up.
"I couldn't wait to see you!" she exclaimed. "He finally proposed!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" came the squeaky high-pitched response.
Both friends embraced each other - one to share her happiness, and the other to mask her state of confusion...

They chattered endlessly while eating dinner. In between bites, the friend spread out a piece of paper and scribbled earnestly. Lots of plans needed to be made. Apparently, an entire childhood had not been enough to fantasize about the dream wedding. The friend continued jotting down finer details of the wedding-dress and the guest-list. She drew out a neat timeline of the tentative flow of events. It gave her some sort of stability and comfort knowing that there was something solid and familiar amidst all the haphazard chaos.

Indeed, the amount of chaos in her mind was tremendous! She was still trying to process all the information. Everything was happening too soon and she could feel the wall that she had built around herself crumbling. From a distance, one could see two friends excitedly talking about the future. Only she knew the true reason behind her incessant babble. She knew if her mouth failed to do its job, her eyes would give away what she was so desperately trying to conceal.

She had always been the spare wheel. Time after time, she had seen her friends jump from one relationship to another until they had finally settled upon 'the one'. She had been with them in all their adversities, nursing them through rejections and break-ups, assuring them that things would be all right. And in the end, things had always fallen into place. Well, for them. Once they had settled in their newly-found haven, they conveniently left her behind.

She had never felt completely isolated for she was approachable and it was easy making new friends. Yet, she missed those who had let her go. Building relationships took time and it wasn't fair to have to build a new one all the time from scratch. Was she so easy to forget, she often wondered to herself. Why was she always just a filler? Surely, her existence had more meaning.

As she reflected on her past friendships, she realized no one had been by her side when her heart got broken. No one cleared their schedule to make time for her even during emergencies while she had always been just a phone call away. Perhaps, she was the problem. Not they. Perhaps, no one would give her a lot of importance until she started prioritizing herself.

Suddenly, she saw her friend staring at her.
"Penny for your thoughts?" remarked the friend. "Where have you drifted?"
"Nothing," she simply shrugged. "I was just thinking of work," she said. "Something funny had happened..."
"Oh, I will hear about that later!" dismissed her friend.
She knew this was the moment. It was up to her to seize it. "No," she snapped. "I would like to talk about it now because 'later' never comes. I am very happy for you. I genuinely am! But have you realized that in this entire while, not once have you asked me how I'm doing? Would you not like to know what is going on at my end?"
Her friend was surprised. Nevertheless, she decided to humour her. "Sure, tell me. Did someone ask you out?"  

The dismissive tone hurt. She realized that she could not expect to be treated the way she desired from her friend. It was her fault, she acknowledged, but there was no point in beating herself over it. It was time to rectify the mistake she had been committing for so many years. She had to respect herself in order to get that respect from others.

"I just remembered that I need to be somewhere," she said. "Sorry, but I really need to go."

She picked up her bag, dished her share of the bill on the table and walked out without looking back even once. She knew she was leaving behind a rather perplexed friend, but her heart skipped with glee at the realization that she was also leaving behind her old inhibited self. The tables were turned and from that moment onward, everything would revolve not around the others but around her and her needs. She had embarked on a new journey and once again, life would become beautiful!

Moving Forward

They met yet again only to talk about work and other vacuities. Suddenly, he glanced at the clock and, with a nod and a smile, indicated that it was time for him to leave. She watched him walk away and wished he would stay a while longer, for the conversation was still not over. She could listen to him talking about things forever.

She loved him. She really did. She was drawn to him the way one's in love with their favourite bar of chocolate - it seems to be the best and one wants to eat it all the time but it's not really a healthy choice.

The love that she had for him consumed her, left her parched and begging for more even after it had dried out and left her for dead. Consumed by his love, she felt as if she was living a fairy-tale for she was obsessed with a love that was not real. She was in love with a love that did not exist.
She loved him more than she loved herself. She idealized him and put him on a pedestal. And, each time, he let her down, she ignored the shattering of her heart. "He's only human," she tried reasoning with herself. "Everyone makes mistakes." She believed he was not doing it on purpose. Love blinded her and she failed to see him for what he was - a self-destructive being that eviscerated every good thing that came his way. She found herself hopelessly devoted to him. She was there for him at every beck and call. Her life revolved around his happiness. Making him happy was no easy task. Sometimes, she messed up and had to face his wrath. But the storm always cleared after a while; and when the sea calmed, she relished in those brief moments of tranquility. For sporadic and fleeting periods of time, the waves stopped relentlessly crashing down her soul, and she found herself starting to trust him again completely.

But in her heart of hearts she knew what was amiss. Secretly, she knew she had become addicted to the pain.  She knew she had loved him more than she had loved herself but true love did not hurt. True love is not an addictive drug.

Finally, she knew it had to end. She had thought him to be her knight in shining armour. But, in reality, she was the one who had been saving him. With this realization, she knew she had to let him go. She had to let him go even though she knew that she could have him all to herself. She loved him and thought the world of him. Still, she had to let him go. She had to let him go because she could not see beyond her inadequacy of being with him.

As she saw him walk out of the door, she felt her heart crumble. She followed him outside and surprised him with a sudden hug. She held him close and felt at home. She felt love - that mysterious thing everyone seems to be indulging in the eternal search for ! She could not let him go. She did not want to! She could not see beyond her inadequacy of calling him - her own, having him all to herself.

But she let him go. She let him go - knowing he was finally home. She found happiness in the belief that he was where he belonged. She had lost her way and needed to find a place she could call home. Home was not where he was. Love did not reside where he did. She needed someone who loved her no matter what. She needed someone who made her feel free. Love always transpired between equals. She needed to find a man who deserved her as much as she deserved him. She needed a man who loved himself in the same manner as she had started loving herself.
In leaving him, she found herself. He was all she had. But she let him go knowing 'she' was all he had.

The Golden Rule

It has never been difficult for me to press the 'Delete' button on people I don't want in my life. I've said so many goodbyes that I don't even remember all of them; but I think I'm still not prepared for this last one. I need one where I shall be able to muster all the courage I have to say all that I need to so that when I say I'm done, I will actually be able to truly let go.

In my experience, "equal" relationships are rare because in every relationship (even friendship for that matter), there's always someone who cares more or compromises more than the other person. I remember of times when I was in relationships or friendships where everything revolved around me. Those friendships gave me a strange sense of power - they made me feel important. I was human and I made mistakes. There were times when I didn't treat them right and denied giving them the love and respect they deserved.

Our society works in a strange fashion. It's always "cool" to seem disinterested. People who can hide their true feelings are actually considered winners because they don't seem to care. If you are a person who cares more and genuinely expresses your feelings, you are doomed to be branded as a "loser".

Back in those days, I thought I had everything going. I was achieving all my professional goals. I was always surrounded by people who would be willing to kiss the ground on which I walked; and no, I am not exaggerating. I seemed to have it all. But karma truly is a bitch for it works in strange ways. I have no clue when or how the tables turned and I ended up becoming the person who cares more. Currently, I seem to be surrounded by only those people in my life who will let me down. No matter how much the other person claims to care, I don't matter to them as much as they do to me; and no matter what I do, it's never going to be enough for them to care for me the same amount.

I know I am not being completely truthful when I say that I haven't got a clue for I do know exactly when this started. The first time the inkling of doubt popped up that X did not care for  me the way I did, I  was dismissive. But as that doubt started creeping up more and more frequently, I actually started holding back. At that time, I knew X would notice, bring it up and fix things. How naive of me! X never noticed; or perhaps, and I am not sure which is worse, X noticed and chose to do nothing about it. From that point on, I started holding back as much as I could. We spoke less and met even more infrequently. The rare times that we did meet, I never disclosed my discontent and though I was extremely upset, I never showed it. But honestly, I felt let down. With time, the aloofness between us has grown so much that even if we meet, we act no better than strangers and the only appropriate reply to a simple question like "How are you?" is "I'm fine, thank you." even though in reality, nothing is "fine".

True love is unconditional but it is natural for expectations to develop if one invests a lot of time and effort in a relationship. It hurts when these expectations are dashed to the ground but no matter how wounded I am, it is almost impossible for me to loathe X. Even though X made me unhappy and contaminated my system with negative thoughts to an extent where I doubted whether I was even deserving of love in the first place, X taught me a very valuable lesson - that of treating others the way one wants to be treated.

Earlier,  the Golden Rule, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you," was just a line; but now, I fully abide by it. I am now kinder, more patient and hopefully, less narcissistic than before. I am more expressive and I don't need to resort to ridicule anymore in order to show affection.  With time, I hope that my scars will heal. I will forever be thankful to X for having taught me this lesson, but in my heart of hearts, I still wish I could have learnt this lesson in another, slightly painless, way...

Of New Beginnings and Ends...

It's that time of the year again when everyone is talking about new beginnings. But how do you begin a new chapter when you haven't ended the previous one? Can you just skip ahead without any real closure? I know I can't.

I find it very difficult to say good-byes. I wonder what I would tell you before we parted again. Would I just shake your hand and watch you walk away, without looking back even once at me as I stand seething in pits of bitter unrequited love, or would I actually open my mouth and let those years of bottled up feelings flow?

Some partings are well-made but one reason why I have never learned to say good-bye to you is because you seem to hang on in almost all of my moments. Even if we don't speak for weeks, each morning when I open my eyes, I feel your presence - or rather it is the awareness of your absence that stirs me from my slumber. Even at night, while I am asleep, you do not leave me alone; you creep into the crevices of my dreams. It's been so long; yet I don't know why you still hold such a special place in my heart.

There was a point in time when I finally decided it was time to forget you. I had to let you go. That pursuit made me search for fragments of your being in the people around me. When I realized it was impossible to recreate something that had felt so perfect, I tried redefining perfection. Alas, I horribly failed! I tried again, and then again, but each time, I failed even more.

Everyone's life has a story but you were the first person who was actually interested in reading my tale. You helped me discover myself; and, in your own simple way, showed me what it truly meant to feel cared for. You helped me become a better person. No matter how corny it sounds, you are the reason why I smile, laugh and believe in unconditional love.

Every lovely thing has an ugly side and, unfortunately, things were no different in our case. You shattered me. I single-handedly picked up the shards of my broken self and tried to fix myself. With a little help, I was restored to my previous state; but now that I had experienced what it felt like to be loved and looked after, it became difficult for me to cope. I became distrustful and swore that I would never rely on one person again. You taught me a valuable lesson on the importance of self-reliance but I still haven't mastered the lesson completely. One day, however, I hope to get to a place where I will not depend on anyone but myself for my happiness. Someday, I hope to emerge a stronger and more independent version of me.

But does that mean that I should just say good-bye and let you slip from my hands? Each time this question pops in my head, my inner voice screams "NO" because you felt (and still feel) like you're the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

It's the end of this year but I know I am still holding on to you. The next time we meet and it's time for us to say good-bye, I shall do so - I do not know yet if it will be a permanent one or temporary but I shall hold on to the illusion that our next meeting is just around the corner; and comfort myself with the belief that our story will never really have to come to a real ending.

Hanging By A Thread

"If you were watching a movie and found that it was utterly ridiculous, would you judge someone for leaving the theatre in the middle?" she asked.
"Of course not," he replied. "In fact if the movie was really bad, I'd walk out myself and judge those people who remained inside!"
"Then, why do we judge those who choose to commit suicide because they find life unbearable?"

At that time, he had not answered her question. But today, as he stared at the lifeless body in front of him, he thought about all the conversations they had had. And about the ones they hadn't.

Days passed and turned into months. But he was still woken up every night by her dreams. It didn't matter whether they were good or bad, because they hurt all the same. People still asked him about her. Few asked him what it was like without her. He never knew how to respond to those questions. Going through life without her was not something he had wanted to do. He had never wanted to live without her. And without her, he wasn't really living...

She was the person who'd made his life wonderful. The guilt that he had failed to do the same for her plagued him mentally and emotionally. When someone leaves the way she did, everyone wants to point a finger. Everyone wants to know why. And she didn't leave a "why" because she left behind no note. It was in her nature to leave things unsaid.

He often blamed himself for her death. Well-wishers told him that it wasn't his fault but he knew it was. He knew he could have told her to hang in there but he didn't. He wished he could apologize to her - tell her that he was sorry for not being able to help her. Perhaps, that would take the guilt away. But she was not in front of him and he was tired of speaking to her imaginary spirit.

He felt that his life had lost all meaning and purpose. He was doing nothing constructive. Sometimes, while driving his car, he wondered how easy it would be to just lose control. He stared at the sleeping-pills his father took every night and wondered how many it would take. It would be so easy for him to end things the way she had. But then, he wouldn't want to make anyone in the world feel the way he had felt after her untimely death. He realized that he needed to hold on just to make life bearable for himself and for those around him. She was gone and while he would never forget her, he realized he would also have to remember his old self that he had forgotten, somewhere along the way. Even though he felt dead, in actuality, he was not. He would have to move on because life (with or without her) was all about learning, loving and being alive.

Old Conversations

I like going back to old conversations.

Letter-writing went out of fashion a generation or two before us. Today, we neither have the perfume nor the handwriting. We have nothing to touch, nothing to hold. I would rather keep turning pages and pages of long, long letters but I try to make do with what we've got.  

I scroll up our chat-archive; up, up and up until I find conversations garnished generously with " :P ". Then, I scroll down slowly to find more " :) ". It may mean nothing but to me it marks an important transition. It's when the need to pretend you were just kidding when you said something nice gave way to saying it, and letting me know that you really meant it.

The conversation never ends. I know when you woke up and what you did all day. I know where you went, with whom you were, what you ate, what made you angry and when you slept. It really isn't a lot of important information but it made me feel really special knowing the ordinary things about somebody.

I like going back to old conversations especially those that we pretend never happened; those that we will never have again. I go back to them to find some lost happiness; and I do, but now it is tinged with pain. Not intense; but chronic.

So much has changed. It is awkward to even say "hi" anymore. Wouldn't it be better if we pretended to not know each other when we meet now? It feels worse to just shake hands and meet like acquaintances. But it doesn't matter. You and I will just be a fraction of all the letting go we will have to do in our respective lives.

Have I let go? I like to think that I most certainly have. It isn't really about  reminiscing anymore or even regretting. It is more about acceptance that all this is a part and parcel of life. Some stories find their conclusions while others just meander their way into oblivion.

If I have let go, why do I still go back to our old conversations? It is a tough one to explain, but I think I go back to feel sane. It would drive you crazy to feel a great pain in your shoulders for no reason, but if you saw your dismembered arms, it'd make sense that it hurts. The old conversations will always bear testimony to the fact that there was something we let go of.

An evening by myself usually leads my thoughts to strange places. I'd much rather step out, get a good cup of coffee, and find someone to have new conversations.

Sweet Vengeance

"What are you doing here?" she stared in astonishment at the man standing in front of her, outside the entrance of the airport.
"You really thought I would let you go without saying a good-bye?" he exclaimed with an expression of fake horror.
"You do know I am not going forever, right?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. "I will be back."
"I know," he replied nonchalantly. "That doesn't mean I can't come to the airport and see you off."
"Fine," she sighed. "Let's not argue. Say your good-byes, give me a hug and let me go. I don't want to be late - I want a window seat!"
He chuckled. "I wish you would pre-book your seats."
"No more lectures," she groaned and put her arms around him.
"Take care," he said. "I hate it when you go away - even though I  know it's only for a few weeks."
"Really?" she said with a look of disbelief though she could not stop a smile from escaping her lips.
"Of course," he said. "Every time you leave, I feel you take with you a piece of my heart. Thankfully, you come back and the piece gets restored again to its rightful owner."
"Ha! Ha! Very funny," she laughed. "Since when did you start sounding so cheesy?"
He suddenly pulled her closer to him, "You  know I love you, right?"
Startled at his sudden declaration, she just brushed him aside, "Sure, if you say so." She wasn't sure if she really believed him.
As if he had read her mind, he continued, "I know there are times when you think I do not care. The truth is..." he paused. She stared at him as he nervously looked down at the ground whilst shuffling his feet. He continued, "The truth is that I care a lot about you. I may not express it and I know that hurts you but I do love you." He looked at her. There seemed to be no visible reaction on her face. "What's wrong? Don't tell me that you had no clue about the way I felt about you!"
A sad smile appeared on her face. "There was a time when I thought I would die of ecstasy if you ever came and told me that you love me."
"But now, you feel differently?" he asked with a somewhat hurt look on his face.
"I love you," she said. "I always have; and I don't think I know how to re-program my system to stop loving you. Believe me for I have tried! But I cannot be with you."
"What do you mean?" he asked. "We both love each other. What's the problem?"
"Love," she replied.
"I don't understand," he said perplexed.
"You don't have to," she reassured him. "I need to go now. I cannot afford to miss this plane!"

She walked straight inside the airport successfully fighting all temptation to turn back and look at him one last time. He was still standing there, looking at her until he could see her no more. Nothing had gone according to plan. He found her behaviour confusing. Why had she said she could not be with him if she loved him? He could feel the anger welling up inside him as he realized how he could never get a grip on what was happening inside her head.

She knew she had walked off without explaining herself. She knew he was bound to be very puzzled by her behaviour. She felt a sense of guilt surging up her chest but she buried it inside as immediately as it had surfaced. She would not justify herself to him or anyone. She had spent many a night waiting to accept the love that she thought she deserved. Each moment of disappointment killed a part of her until she was in so much pain that she started hating the person who had made her experience the hurt in the first place. That started a new cycle of hate where she started despising herself for being incapable of 'unconditional love'.
His confession had surprised her but she, herself, was stunned at her indifference to his  words. Although she hated to admit it, she actually felt a part of her smiling wickedly for turning him down. He would now get a taste of his own medicine and learn what it felt like to have your love ignored or rejected. Vengeance was, indeed, sweet. She smiled to herself as she sat on the window-seat of the flight.

Unknowingly, his profession of love had helped her reconnect with the most important person in her life - her. Her feeling of self-loathe seemed to have evaporated and re-instilled in her a new sense of adoration for herself. She knew she still cared about him and she'd be there for him when he needed her but she no more worshipped him the way she used to before. She had gone back to her old affair of loving herself more than anyone.

Message In A Bottle

They sat at the sea-shore knowing that the time to bid farewell had arrived.
"Each time you leave me with more questions than answers," he complained.
"You, no more, sort things out for me," she retorted. "No longer do you iron out my doubts, fold neatly my dilemmas and no more do you leave me well-stocked on enough clarity to face life."
"You will need a housekeeper for that, my love," he teased her in reply. "Not me."

"Time flies when we are together," she pondered.
"I wonder if time flies," he replied, "Or if it is feelings which have flown?"
With a heavy heart she sighed, "What can I say? I know I have to let go of you as we depart to distant shores. I know a part of me aches when there seems no ache of parting in yours."
He simply smiled, "I have witnessed many more partings than you; yet in each parting, I experience an ache anew. If  you were to move from your head to your heart, you would feel it too."

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes and poured out all that she had stored in her heart, "There used to be a time when we would exchange messages in bottles made of sighs. I would float my feelings on a thought and you would catch and expand them on your island. Thus, we were tied across the waves of life...But these days, why do I feel as if we are caught up in separating tides?"
His voice remained calm as his eyes shifted in a thoughtful gaze, "Yes, there was a time when you floated your feelings of heart-felt desire. But these days, you have started building a ship to endure doubts within those very sighs. You guard the bottle of doubts, not allowing the contents to float away. There's only so much a bottle can hold - doubts or desires - choose one to drop away."
"Would you rather I allow my desires to find their own way?" she quizzed.
He replied, "How does one sail through life without a compass of security to show the way?"

She stayed silent, settled in her bottle. He stared silent, at the lap of the waves. In the absence of intent, the currents of life drifted them away to where stories without ends somehow find their place.

The Desert

Her crest-fallen face was enough to tell people that things had not ended well. They kept their curiosity in check, respecting her silence over that matter. Several nights passed and she still wore that same dejected expression.

Days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months. They declared that the time had come for her to move on but how could she when she did not know how to? She was so different from her favourite poet, Neruda, who grandly proclaimed "if little by little you stop loving me/I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me/do not look for me/for I shall already have forgotten you."

She did not want to move on from him because she still loved him and she did not know how not to.

 When she had met him the very first time, she had felt that she ought to keep a safe distance from him. He was very different from the rest of the people around her. He accepted her just the way she was finding perfection in all her imperfections and he forced her to observe everything, within and without, in a new light. She had thought that she would be able to navigate her way through this beautiful storm but, only now, she realized that it was too late.

Even when there had been people surrounding her, she had always felt lonely. Like a barren desert, she remained not inviting another soul into her world. He had come into her life like a ravenous sandstorm and swept her away from her barren existence into the comforts of civilization. She started opening up to people, not even hesitating before interacting with strangers. Life had never been more beautiful.

But now he was gone and no matter how hard she tried, she just could not forget him. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if she was trying hard enough. Forgetting him would mean forgetting her own self for she never saw herself separate from him. And even if she got rid of all those memories, could she really go back to being her old self? What was her old self like? She had no recollection of it. That part of her was lost forever...

She felt empty. Her soul was barren again. The vastness of the desert scared her. Everything looked too far away, even the cloudless sky. She could hide nowhere in such emptiness. She kept hoping to see a falling star - it was her one chance of making her wish come true.

Alas! There were no stars in the clear sky save one and that star twinkled brightly in the sky, indicating it had no intention of falling.

He was like that stubborn star in the sky, always gleaming even when she had no desire to see the path that lay ahead. His absence in her life was as powerful as his presence. Just like the light from a scorching sun that burns the sandy desert, his absence fuelled her to move ahead to newer roads, newer avenues. Unfortunately, no matter where she went, she still remained the way she was. What was missing never changed. She knew she was still beautiful but she was empty. No one could die for her. All the places she went to were different but she was still the same, incomplete soul. She was still the parched, arid desert that craved for rain to fall.

Voids And Discoveries

He turned around to look at her one last time before he proceeded through the departure gates to board his flight. He wished she had accompanied him on his journey but their paths were completely divergent. He was travelling to his future - a land of many promises. Even though he had never gone there before, he was sure everything would be bright and beautiful for he was going to a place that had infinite potential.

She had chosen to stay behind. She considered the past to be a shrine that needed to be preserved. Reliable and unchanging, it provided her with an insight  to the beginning of everything as it gave her a sense of centre and stability.

As she watched him go, she had a sudden urge to leave her familiar path, catch his hand and travel his journey. It was not as if the thought hadn't occurred to her before. But each time she pondered over the matter, she realized that it wasn't the right thing to do for it would forever create a dent in her soul.

He had left his lover behind to completely submit himself to the quest of self-discovery even if it meant conversing with every piece of stone and pebble that created a dent under his sole.

As she walked back home, she hated to admit to herself that she was actually not feeling miserable. Even though he was gone, she did not really feel that she was missing anything in her life.

He cared for her a lot but he knew he could not be in love always. His life had always felt complete until she came along and made him realize what he had been missing all this time. Like a mirror, she reflected what was absent rather than what was present and helped him see the void in his soul -a void he had always resisted seeing. It was ironic that the one who had shown him the mirror of his soul and motivated him to step out of his zone of comfort could not leave her stability-zone behind and venture out to search for her missing pieces.

She stopped at a fountain and sat looking at the flow of water, coming from within and flowing outward. She felt it was metaphorical. By choosing to not walk the same path as he, she was kind of going through the same process of going within, digging inside so much that she ended up drooling out the same things repeatedly; only sometimes discovering some wisdom that kept her in the space of a momentary euphoric moment. She had no control over it and it always left her in a void; making her wonder what just happened and what was all that wisdom about. So far, the only discovery she had made was that she needed to feel someone caressing her body so that her soul would feel that it was alright to find nothing on the path that she had chosen to walk.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she, once again, felt she should have travelled with him. It would help her overcome her grief of not finding any wisdom and the joy of the many voids which were present on her journey.

He knew she would not have regretted her decision of walking down his road. He would have taken her to the beach where they would have sat together and watched the sea move. The waves that were unnoticeable from a distance would slowly appear as a slight bump until they got bigger and bigger as they came closer. When almost at the shore, the wave would look gigantic and crash with enormous power, and then soothe. He was sure that she would have liked watching this sight - it represented both of them going in and out of each other's heart, sometimes discovering something profound and sometimes just encountering a void. He felt, almost relieved, that he had left his old ways - somehow love felt like a drug that made one enjoy experiencing the same thing over and over again - he was glad he had overcome this addiction and discovered his zeal to travel on a path to a new existence.

No matter which path each had chosen, deep inside, both felt somewhat incomplete. Both had lost something which they wished they could get back. Both of them still continued to walk down their different paths, experiencing the same alternating incidents of voids and discoveries on their respective journeys. Hopefully, they would meet at a water-body someday.