Thursday, August 29, 2019

An assignment

I am going to through a writing course, because I needed to pick a hobby. As part of the course, I need to write an assignment about the most painful thing I felt in my life. I have 7 minutes to pour this out, and I could be brave. I have always been brave, or actually hiding because nobody is reading.

So, here it goes, my time starts now :

***

No, it wasnt love, or isolation, that hurt me the most. It was my own failure to give it all in my academics. A trait I cannot keep up with. It was during my teenager days and the final score of an exam, that affected me the most. I scored low among all the friends, and knew I wouldnt be in the best of colleges. And the most painful feeling in the situation was guilt.

I was given every opportunity by my parents to excel in academics. I was given internet at 15, coaching classes, incredible brilliant friends, yet I failed them all. I failed my parents. And it made me so guilty. I cried for an entire week to myself, I cried throughout the night that God could somehow change my scores. It felt like I was always in the limelight, and suddenly someone turned off the switch. I was there, stranded alone, and when I looked further at the audience, everyone stared back. My mother felt so disappointed that she didnt confront me. She wasnt angry . She was quiet. That quietness deafened me. I could hear my own voice in my head, and I am my most best-worst critic. It was my voice telling me that I failed for life. I wasnt going to a good college. I felt , and still feel I dont deserve the single opportunity given to me. All those I was privileged with should have gone to someone else who needed it most. He could have done things much better. It was my first big time failure. It crashed my confidence that I never gained back. It scares me to death of all the consequences that followed. Even today, when I write a simple certificate exam, the 17 year old me wakes up within. She is constantly telling me I am going fail in whatever I do. She is creeping all over my body, and no one understand this when I tell them. I am still ashamed that I disappointed everyone around me.

I am reminded of this again today, and it is the same guilt saddening feeling inside.

I wish I cold vomit these emotions.

And flush it down somewhere.

***

And I am done :)

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Happy birthday to me

Aug 25th - This date seems to have been swirled into the every particle so that I wouldnt miss this even for a second. I swear, I read the date at least 30 times today (and the day just began). On phone, laptop, newspaper, blogs, twitter and the blah.

 There was an era I loved my birthdays. I would wait for surprises, get disappointed, and again wait for surprises next year. For past 6 years, I have bought a small piece of cake and cut it myself. This year was completely different. I wasnt even wishing this day would come. I didnt bother myself with a cake and hoped they removed a date off the calendar.

All I wished was to be happy. Not just on my birthday, but in life.

I wanted to make myself feel good this year. That general content kind of feeling. I thought making others happy, would keep me happy. I wanted to really go out there, help people. I wanted to give back to society. So, I put efforts towards three things -

1. Food
2. Clothes
3. Shelter/education

Food was the easiest thing to do.I arranged for one in an orphanage where they will also distribute cakes. The only thing I feel bad is that children will pray for me. I dont deserve those prayers. I am doing this for a selfish act to make myself happy. So, I pray that the prayers for me are sent back to them.

As for clothes,I ordered 10 kids clothing and sent to another orphanage. The website didnt even bother to send it across. It has been a week, but they didnt even ship it. Talk about my luck. So, that was a disaster, but as long as they get it, I think I will be fine.

As for shelter, I wanted to raise funds because the cost was very high. I got in touch with one of my colleagues who left the organisation to do this. Planned it out completely. Then one of my friends wanted to join me as it is her birthday as well, today. I sent out asking people to make contributions. I sent out to everyone I thought would send at least Rs. 100/- . The response was so poor. And it broke me. Guess, I shrunk back inside because of this.

I dont know what am I doing wrong.

Is my intention wrong ?
Is my expectation from people wrong ?
Am I seeing the whole thing in a wrong perspective ?

I dont know. I started with a clean conscience. I did everything with good intentions. I know. I have been convincing myself so hard on being happy. That everything is going to make me happy. It simply isnt. I am not even content.

Overall, I have been stuck at home. I dont know what to do. Its boring than the usual Sundays. It is excruciatingly slow as well.

I remember those days when I could write my heart out, but I now have some reservations. I had so many people in my life then, but I used to pour out my feelings. Today, I have some handful, and I dont want to open up.

I have convinced myself that no one is going to read this. So, I am feeling fine.

I hope next year, they erase Aug 25th from the calendar. And I wish I could help better.

Happy bday to me.


Saturday, June 22, 2019

Captain Planet - In search of greatness - Part 1


The night lay low, and the young feeble boy hunched even lower. Not really running, he sprinted on toes, away from the lampshade. He seemed to have programmed himself not to make any noise. His eyes darted on either of the corners, but all that was visible was the sweat from his brow. He thought he heard something, but wasn’t sure if it was within himself.

'I need to move faster. I need to save myself. Don’t want this to be my last fucking night’

He smiled, while his mind tried to knock sense into him . As his heart pounded in faster rhythm, his feet were doing the complete opposite. He staggered in zigzagged moves, towards the stoned walls that glistened even under the blurred moonlight. He supported himself on the wall shifting the weight of the entire situation into his bare hands. Everything in the scene was muddled; his head, his feet and the night. The serene picture was broken with sounds of shoes screeching the tar road. The muskier shadows had been chasing him from the bar on the third avenue for eternity, or that is what it felt like to him.

The clouds on the moon bade goodbye allowing more light to fall on the floor of earth. It looked like the curtains had open, his act had to instigate.

‘I wish I could undo everything’

‘Why is life already flashing before my eyes? Why am I so drunk?’

The taste of alcohol still lingered on his tongue and armband bit tighter into the olive skin of the Amazonian teenager.  Any other day, he could have waded away the entire incident with the power he possessed over their hearts. But today, he was befuddled, and his core was disgraced.

'There he is. Rob! Move towards the main road and turn around. Geek, you go the other way.'

Voices perched on the other side of the street. Amazonian teenager couldn’t judge the distance between him and his chasers, but he sure knew their intent.

The sounds of heels cackling began to lure closer. The spine of his made the decisions. He took a quick drift into a narrow road that had minimum light. He was very familiar with the streets, but they were different under the moonlight.

He took a deep breathe when he lost a step, and began to think of his very close friends.

One is never sure when you need them the most. Having grown up with them all his life, he never realized their value until this moment.  Like all relationships, geography grew them apart. He choked on his tears when he knew he could have summoned them together here, had he not been nearly stoned that night.

The reason to everything that was happening that night was because of the alcohol. The drunken moments, unnecessary words and a rogue chase around the town. He wasn’t afraid of getting beaten up, but the reflection in the eyes of the chasers meant something more serious and evil.

When his feet began to wobble, he settled himself on the wooden boxes next to the trash. The smell wafted in the air, splinters pierced through his palms but his focus was on the sounds of the night. The light cut off on this side of the lane, and his eyes took some time to adjust to the surroundings.

He knew they were very close to him. He knew they were on all of his sides.

'What do you want from me?', he vomited his first words through the darkness.

More out of desperation as he crouched in kneeling position, pushing the box away. 

The boy with long locks licked his lips and moved towards him.

'You smart eh? Think you could outrun us? The gang, the cooler ones. The savage?'

He did not understand anything that was asked, but raised his clenched palm in an impulse, not aiming at anyone. It was meant to frighten them.

While he was in the middle of the action, a yellow glow emitted from his ring, blurring and brightening continuously. It looked like hope through the greyness of the surroundings.

The long locks boy titled his head in the direction of the ring, and blinked for few seconds. He broke his confused look with a sudden realization.

'Hey! This kid has a pretty ring. Look, it glows. How cool is that ? Savage.’

‘I am sure that is the second time I heard the word savage. He repeats like Nitra.’

 Long haired boy continued his verbal fascination. ‘See Geek, he does. Look at the light. Let us remove that ring of his finger. Rob, remove the ring.'

Rob broke into the circle as soon as he heard his name. He was like a dog, that took the orders from his master. Two more boys from the gang held each of Amazonian’s arms on either side. This is how all the street fights began.

Rob pulled the ring from his finger like a stubborn lover. Not hard enough, but enough a tug.

'Ring tight on finger, DesZ. Pass me your knife. Quick', Rob quipped

The Amazonian tried to make efforts to release himself from the boys while they twisted him on to the ground. Rob focused on hand of the boy, then slid the knife into the gap between the finger and the ring.

When the chemistry between the four men in the picture  was charred , the Amazonian jolted suddenly, scaring Rob. Rob saw himself staring into the brown eyes. The Amazonian felt an atomic pain inside his head, while he was sending a message into Rob’s heart.

A message that could have saved the night.

A message that could have changed everything in normal routine.

A message , only when it was passed.

He tried harder to lighten the emptiness of Rob.

It was right then, under the no moonlight zone where everyone stood like nothing was happening that Rob panicked.  He was clueless with what he was feeling inside. A warmth of heart that he was not used to. A splurge of emotions that he had laid at the grave of his family.

He was uncomfortable with the beautiful feeling inside his heart. He tried to erase this feeling , gripping his only weapon tightly, before finally plunging it into the chest of the Amazonian.

The feelings inside Rob began to die again, as much as the Amazonian himself.

Both their eyes softened; one out of foolish regret within seconds he rushed with the knife and other, out of lifelessness.

Amazonian finally fell into the arms of Rob, ending the chase for the final. Other boys stood motionless, unable to comprehend what had happened.

As Rob gripped on to the dead body on the lonely street, four friends of the Amazonian boy woke up in middle of the night at the same time, few distance away from each other.

All of them felt a very repulsive sensation. It felt like someone put their heads on fire, anchored their hearts into the bottom of sea whilst their rings glowed out of nowhere for no reason.

The rings shone, each in different colour.  





Saturday, June 1, 2019

Back in randomness

I forgot why I used to write. I dont know where the motivation came from, who read it or what some of my posts even meant. I tried to remember. I vividly understand the surge in heartbeat when I wrote an article. Those non flickering anticipation that each word gave.

What happened to old me ?

What happened to my happiness?

I just saw that the blog was more than a decade old. This means, there are pages of desperation, inspiration and flow of emotions for 10 long years. My each writing would reflect my mood of the day.

Where did my power to dream go? Why am I accepting everything on way now?

Currently, I am a wreck. I am not happy, grateful or sincere. I am lost, devastated and nothing is clear to me. Things I believed in are now forgotten. I live in delusion of black tar. I am suffocating in it, and I cant see.

Would you believe if I told you I have been questioning everyone's happiness?

What makes people happy ?

I dont know. I dont know as much as I dont know what to do with myself. I am too egoistic to delve deeper, and ask the right questions. And I am too proud to talk to anyone.

That was when I realized why I wrote.

Was it my heart speaking?

It has always been easier to write. Like in a diary. I could have never been able to win a speech , but I could write. I have always been able to explain pain as much as I could experience it. It was easier, like breathing.

I am sure it didnt make sense to lot of people, but to me, it did. I knew what I was going through with each sentence.

Maybe, I should write more. Only my sister has been pushing me to write more. I should do it.

I never believed in my writing. It was just a farce. A joke.

But now, to save myself, I need to write. And believe in it.



Monday, January 8, 2018

Dust


Embracing the cold flaked winds, winged I fly away,

Embalmed hidden corners pretty, I don’t even sway.


Innumerable count of I in number,

Men at aisle see no control and murmur.


In solitary pleasure when I dwell,

Hostile eyes search for me till they swell.


Present in fragment fragrance that you smell,

Sudden drip of unconcerned heights, I rather fell.


Lying on Ashes on man burnt to death,

Cruel handshakes with the rumble and dearth.


Seizing inches of itch on your skin,

Drooling places where you have never been.


Mugged into any of the desired forms,

 Wander away in excess to break all norms.


Walk into lanes where there is no path,

More you kick, I shall rise in wrath.


Delve deeper into the thicker grounds,

Apex, fragile over the mountains.


Bother not what I consist of,

Wish not what makes me tough.


Stirred into flow of lucid waters,

Wrecked with earthworms that no one bothers.



In all will you shall try, I cannot be crushed,

Fast, steady, however, you seem rushed.


Dear men, you think I am yet another lie,

Truth be told, let me enter your eye.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Writing ?



How much can a writing take you?

Can it change something that exists or begin anything new?

What is the use of writing, if it can be erased, torn or burnt?

I always could write better, than I could speak. I am just saying in relative terms, not comparing myself to anyone else. But, when I speak, I feel I am a no opinion and spineless woman. This is not how I feel when I write. 

Is it because that not too many people write, but speak better? It could be that when writing, we think slower than when we speak. 

How many writing has made you better? 

How much of it has it saved the world ?

Don’t actions speak louder than words ; even if they are in black and white ? Did we bring about reforms in society using paper as a medium ? I have seen weapons of mass destruction and actions of human acts, but nothing on paper that changed us.

I don't even remember my parents teaching me life by putting things in writing. We all learnt on the go by seeing people act accordingly. Then, why are we insisting people to read more often?

Are we misinformed that pen is mightier than sword ? How has it been ?

I am beginning to feel writing will lose its form , and we all need to spring to action. But I am not sure, because I know nothing else than to write. The words on stronger on paper than from my mouth.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

(Insert a lot of curse words)

I was never aware that I was capable of spewing this much hate. And yes, now that I know and see the diminutive atom like fireballs spurting from my every part of the body, I think I should do something about it. I am not happy. “About what ?”, you may ask. But this 1:100, brain vs body ratio doesn’t know. I have lost the strength to believe that something good is going to happen; but the only good thing that was happening was that the anger never subsided and I feel the same hate towards everything and everyone.

If you are in super positive frame of mind, I warn you to not read further. This is going to change all that and drag you to my frame, which isn’t good in any way. But, if you are feeling that everything has been unfair to you, I trust you with a company.

I was swimming in wrath that I had to vent it because I couldn’t kill anyone on sight. First thing I did was to drive my vehicle fast. No, not rash. I don’t know if I was because I wasn’t thinking. But I was definitely going at an admirable speed. A grandfather in TVS Champ scorned at me and it felt momentarily good. I wasn’t going to get the anger out of me. I stopped for no one, cared for no one. Then, I tried to imagine something good and that was when my alter ego grew immensely. By the way, she is Kwarkshi, a mix of Evil Father and Angel mother. For obvious reasons, she is very good for a while, very evil other times. This was the exact feeling I was having and more than evil. I let her curse people in my mind till I smiled a lot outside. It worked a bit, but I was running out of imaginations.

As soon as I reached home, I drank one liter carton juice in a single gulp. I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t angry because I was hungry. Yeah, its happens. Sometimes.
I let the juice hit my stomach floor and checked my flare temperature. It didn’t come down and I concluded that my irritation was, indeed, genuine. I quickly did a research on the net for bringing down my volcanic eruptions.

Count from 100..till 1. Oh ! Yeah right!

Think of beautiful things. *Double* Yeah right!

Do yoga. Wait. Is this even a solution ? Move every muscle in your body to make you calm ? Touch your feet with your fingers? Isn’t there an organ called stomach in between the two ? And doesn’t it bulge?

I slammed my laptop close, opened it again quickly, to see for damages. It was my office laptop. I just had to be sure.

Thoughts flowed in my head, everything mad, negative and irritating. Every incident, word spoken. I felt betrayed, cheated and sad for myself. It was my mistake that I entered to the comfort zone and it was way too comfortable to make a move. I bottled up all this anger and stood silent.

What should I do ?

What can I do ?

That is when I realized I should harness all this anger and do something about it. First thing I did was write this article. No, it honestly has not made me feel better. I actually think I have written something utter nonsense and drowning in shamelessness. But, this is better than bottling it up inside and not doing anything about it.

So, I am going to be let this bulk-hulk mode on. Focus it all on something totally different and shoot it. Maybe it will turn sour; or for once, it will be for good. I am going to go there. And get it!

FTW!

 P.S., If you think this instilled anger in you, I believe you should share.

P.S., I kept it short. No, I wasn't hungry. Promise.

An assignment

I am going to through a writing course, because I needed to pick a hobby. As part of the course, I need to write an assignment about the mo...