Is Everything Fine?

He had seen it. It was supposed to be an unmentionable incident. Yet, he reached out to her and asked her, “Is everything fine?” 

She ignored his question, doubting his concerns. Avoided him at all cost. But his persistence to know couldn’t match her will to stay aloof and she broke her silence and said a feeble, “Yes, thank​ you for asking.” It only took her three days to look him in the eye with the answer on her lips. Even if a white lie, which he knew, he seemed to let her easy.

Maybe, he really did care. Maybe he just wanted to know the story. Her mind raced again, overthinking on full swing. This and the incident. Taking control over her and her mind. Her heart raced. That familiar unease. The familiar irrational fear gripped her.

She reached out for that tiny pill in her bag and popped it in her mouth. Waiting for the med to kick in. She closed her eyes as it slowly took over and eased the anxiety that had gripped her soul. Unaware that he was still watching her.

His voice steady he asked, “Promise me you’ll not take too many? Promise you’ll never abuse it?”

Startled, she opened her eyes. 

Calm. She assured him and realised he really did care. Warmth seeped in her heart. The effect complete. Sealing the trust in the growing friendship.

Everything was certainly fine.

A Raging Battle with that Black Hole

Regardless of whether you care or you don’t about this situation of yours, do not let yourself get sucked in that pitiless black hole. 

You don’t have to take one day at a time. You don’t have to do anything that everyone asks you to do to climb out of that black hole. 

Do what you’ve got to do.

But, don’t ever give up. 

Don’t you dare.

Keep fighting. It’s going to be worth it.

Everything is going to be ok.

That Goofy Face

There’s always this boy. I had a minor crush on him. Then we became, sort of, friends. Every time he opened his mouth, I would always feel that I like him lesser. But then, no matter what he said, this tall boy, when he would smile his full goofy smile at me whenever he passed me by, I could feel my heart do a double somersault no matter how hard I suppressed it. His smile was big and always seemed​ to reach his eyes. 

I would avoid his eyes every time we passed each other by. Especially if it was more than once in a day. Because he smiles his big smile every single time! Even if he was annoying and taken, his smile was contagious. His smile would leave a smile on my lips which would pass on to the next person passing me by. 

He is unaware and it will stay that way. It will be my little secret corner in a small room in my head: He’s that goofy faced friend, who notices it all, and makes me smile unwittingly ever time he smiles. And my day gets better.

A Slice of Life

A plethora of breeze gushed through her hair, as she stood behind the mini truck. Her hands thrown up in the air, as the truck sped through the jungle. The afternoon was sultry, but the breeze was cool. It kissed her cheeks and made her eyes water. But she smiled. She smiled, because:

For a moment, the walls around her were down;
For a moment, the voices in her head were silent;
For a moment, the anxiety that hits her chest was at bay;
For a moment, the sadness that engulfed her soul ceased to exist;
For a moment, the world was as it is supposed to be;
For a moment, everything was just right.

She stood, reminding herself that she is alive. Feeling alive. She stood and looked at the deer that had raised its head as the truck passed it by. She smiled, feeling light. She smiled because it trickled on her lips, letting go all the burden of the failures in her life. She just smiled. Simple pleasures of life.

In midst of silence, in midst of nature, in midst of nowhere, she found herself. A renewed strength. A glimpse of who she was. A glimpse of the path to find herself back again. A renewed gusto bubbled within her to get up every morning and look forward to something, anything. It broke the membrane in her mind which had always made her feel like a failure.

A sense of plan. A sense of goal. A sense of curiosity. A will to live. The courage to accept. The wisdom to forgive herself. A want to try again.  The courage to trust and hope. A want to be free.

She had tasted a slice of life, all over again.

 

My Time Off

The feeling of vastness, of adventure, of challenges, and of distance is so powerful that a momentary, feeble beat in the heart fades away. The sight of which used to send my heart racing now feels like a distant memory. The memory threatens to dissolve in the midst of nothingness as time passes by, the feeling of vastness, of adventure, of challenges, of newness and of distance sticks on. It makes things easy and straightforward with the right amount of focus on the “important” things.

Now the question is, now that I’m back tomorrow, will he manage to set my heart racing when I lay my eyes on him?

Her Strength

She metamorphosed into the strong woman she is today
Fought all her wars, walking with the raw scars,
He, like most, didn’t know what to do with her
So he, like most, walked away
Branding her impossible and difficult
He, like most, couldn’t accept –
She was a woman with essence
She was a woman with strength
She was a woman with a mind of her own

My Mistakes

My mistakes: They are like invisible chokers around my neck. Gently kissing my neck – with a pressure just enough to remind me of the horrors that followed after all my mistakes. They act like a gentle reminder, like the ghosts of my past, constantly hovering over my future, reminding me of every drastic risk I had taken.

The choker. It is constantly on my mind. I find my hand almost reaching my neck every time I think about it. I imagine it to be made of cold white steel with a fiery red ruby in the center. The ruby holds the rage, the shame, the penitence and some learning. Feel the cold steel, tighten its grip around my neck, making me gasp for my life, every time I am close to making same mistake. Ringing a faint and familiar taunting words in my ears, “Only fools make the same mistake twice.”

I am not sure if I’m imprisoned in the hands of fear. I am not sure if I doubt my decisions, because of one big mistake. I am not sure if it is killing my essence slowly.

But I am glad of that invisible choker around my neck. It keeps me in check. It lets me be wild but not reckless. It lets me be sad but not depressed. It lets me forgive myself, but not forget.

It binds me, but it also helps me evolve.

And sometimes, I am wildly proud of that choker around my neck.
—..

My Wheels in Motion

The birth of an idea – the reason behind a beginning and the reason behind an end. How it formulated and how it is encouraged to take a form, no one knows. At least I don’t.

But, I guess an idea starts because of some random trigger when we are on an aimless path. Upon its birth, it is beautifully crafted and cradled in the depths of our mind, till it gets promoted to a dream.

Dreams. Beautiful, beautiful dreams, which then gives birth to an ambition. Ambition, which makes us believe that we are born to do something great, that greatness itself awaits us, and that we are born to be great and make an impact on the humanity. This is what dreams are capable of.

Ambition then gives birth to a want. A want to succeed. A want to make it big. A want of power. A want to climb. Ambition gives us a direction to our aimless path. It makes the cogs of motion move in our minds again and thus formulates a plan. A game plan.

A plan to mold our direction and give it a goal. A plan to fulfill the wants, to fulfill a wish. A wish that might be mine, might be yours, might be someone who we used to love that is no more. The game plan gives a sense of purpose. A sense of motivation. A sense of confidence. The mind starts a raging battle with the doubting self arguing:

I can do it.

I will do it.

I will fight for it.

This is created out of a purpose. Purpose in our lives. Purpose of our existence.

The path is still not clear. The path is still aimless, but lesser than before.

I can see 10 steps ahead of me. I have decided, I will work on those 10 steps. Then maybe, when I am on my 8th step, I will be able to see the next 10 steps and work on it.

Thus, hope takes birth along with determination. Hope that there is something great waiting for us and the determination to make it till the end.

I do not know what gets beyond this. I think we will get to know it once there is action to all this.

This are my wheels of action in motion.

End of a Deception

Sometimes it is embarrassing to watch people being cheap imitations of someone else. Making someone else’s ideas as their own ideas. Making someone else’s words as their own words. Making someone else’s style as their own style.

All this, most of the time, raises from a desperation to become something else that they are not. Rather something they do not want to accept within themselves – their own essence that makes them, them. All this is done, so that they, we, you and me, are accepted by the society. Or to be precise, to be accepted by a certain few individuals that we are aimlessly pursuing to impress.

Is there really anything that is unique and original? Are we all really an imitation of everyone else? Adopting, consciously or unconsciously, traits  of multiple personalities that make us what we are now?

Until yesterday, I was drowned in the ruthless sea of self criticism of my own nature. Asking myself – Why couldn’t I be more like that person? That person who had once succeeded in capturing the attention of a person I wished to attract.

And then, suddenly it hit me, and I couldn’t stop thinking, if was it something to do with self esteem?

I still do not know.

All that I know is, in a certain unguarded moment, even to myself, I found out what “my style”, “my ideas” and “my words” were. I had downplayed my own  self esteem. Once, I set aside the silly pursuit to be someone else in order to be loved back, I saw and accepted my nature as is. And I couldn’t stop saying this to myself, “This is you. You are pretty awesome the way you are.”

I am all that I seem to be when I have a mind of my own, maybe when guarded with a high un-penetrable barrier or maybe when unguarded with all my walls down.

I am all that I seem to be when I do not seem to care who thought what when I spoke my mind out.

I am all that I seem to be when I listen to both my head and heart and do what I must do at that given moment of time.

I am all that and much more, and I have accepted it.

It all comes with a price. But at least, in the end, I do not feel like a sham.
—..