The First Sight - Love and Happenings!

Human behavior is strange; there can be an endless debate on the same, and would still lead to no conclusion. Yet, wondering what affects or rather influence the behavior of a particular person, is inevitable. Life is no short of complexities, and here is added one more!

Time and again, I have dismissed a lot many cheesy lovey-dovey notions about what they call 'love'; to the extent that for once, I was convinced it's all but bullshit! But this thing has stuck around forever, adding curiosities and creating confusions over the same subject over and over again. So, I am obliged to give it a moment and ponder over what exactly is the thing called love, and to my own surprise, I have quite a few answers, and more reasons to believe it is more than pure bullshit!

I remember belonging to a world where many rejected even the idea of this so called love and many others questioned even its existence! But, as far as I remember it was a lifetime ago. Too long! Like it never was...

I usually remember the dates and days, but this morning was different; I don't remember what day or date it was... Maybe I remembered everything till 'that' moment, when she entered the decaying studio! It is beyond impossible to make words how that gave 'life' to that studio. I have no idea what was, but something was, weirdly 'special' about this girl. If I remember God answering my prayers instantly, it was that day only.

I am not morally allowed to look back and reminiscent things about her, and yet here I sit writing about her. I remember her telling me 'I am single' had made me terribly happy. As if, I had already won her. Funnily enough, she was with a guy by the evening of the same day, who she was seeing for the last four years. Why? I had re-played her words several times in my mind. Was she lying then? Or, now? But, why the need, at all? I felt stupid, kind of been cheated. It ended, before it could start.

It wasn't meant to be a memoir to look back at, and miss or think about, but it became. Her 'I didn't want to hurt your feelings' was enough to hurt me, and relieve at the same time. I wonder why she did what she did, but I couldn't question it then, the way I can now. Seven days of her being, and seventy million after she had gone; I guess they had given me answers to all the questioning I had done earlier about 'love', as they call it. I have always hated all the boys with 'that' name, as of her guy. I look back at it all, and I feel funny. I still remember how happy it made me when she had told me she had broken up with him. It felt like a victory, again. Damn! Us guys are stupid.

I still sometimes read her old emails, messages, chats and recorded calls. It all feels like a lie, each time.

I didn't want to be in a rebound relationship, and so I didn't jump in right after her breakup. But, she had other plans. Suddenly her messages had increased; she was calling me instead. It all looks like a weird fairytale as I think of it now. Exactly three years later after 'that' day in that dead studio, she came revisiting Delhi. I don't think I have given something more importance over my work, no matter how shocking it might sound. But, there I was; receiving her at the airport, in a borrowed car, in the middle of a design crisis that my urban design studio had become. Sounds like a loser, if you ask me. But, it was the only logical thing I could think of, at that time. After the perfect week back in my first year, here we were, trying to get a perfect month. And yet, a month couldn't live up to the perfect week that originally was.

I almost remember each thing that had happened the following year, and I play it repeatedly in my head. Somehow, the so-called bond was broken the day she told me she was engaged to get married next year. Trust me, I am laughing at it as I type this. Damn, I don't remember how things went from that perfect month failure to failing everything. I have often played it in my mind, what might have gone wrong, or if you ask me, what made things 'right' because surely it wasn't, earlier. Few days later, she was just gone. Vanished. Poof! All her existence ceased. She had deleted her social networking accounts, blocked my email addresses, all of them, changed her phone number and even her house address. It all started to feel like she didn't even exist. Like, she was a figment of my imagination.

And then, one day my phone told me that she was coming back to Delhi. How? Why? I have no clue why she bothered to text me. Suddenly, she wanted me to attend to her at the airport, she wanted to live at my place so we could spend time together. However insane it might sound, things were getting messier than they already were. I don't think there was anything I could do about it. I just refused to be stupid again. I didn't want to be. Why do girls have to do this? I am not generalizing girls, I am generalizing their type. Why do they want us to be on the hook, something they can turn to, each time they want to feel good about themselves. They don't bother. They don't care.

As of today, she's been married for over a year now. Her wedding day matches my birthday, and even though I don't want her to be a part of my birthdays in any form, living or a memory, she somehow just shows up somewhere in the corner of my mind. I have tried, and yet I cannot bring myself to hate her. I never could. I never will. She still remains the only girl I have ever loved truly, madly, deeply; even though, it is one Bollywood Movie, my life is, it is true.

I have no idea why I am talking about all this now, when I haven't shared it with anyone else in the world, never before; and now, I am writing on a blog that's public. But, somehow I feel better, writing about it. It feels like I have finally shared it with somebody, irrespective of the fact that I won't even know who all read this, or didn't. I didn't think of thinking before publishing it, I didn't care if it sounded poetic, or in flow with the rest of my posts as I try to make them, every time. I just wanted to get this over with. It's been ages this has remained in the drafts, and suddenly I felt suffocated and wanted to be done with it, once and for all. It is indeed something I didn't want everyone, or anyone to know, but now it almost feels like I don't care if the whole world knew. I am sounding insane to myself at the moment, and somehow it feels good. Maybe this is why I wanted to do this. Closure!

Do I Need It?

So it's the first Sunday of the August, and everyone's yelling 'Happy Friendship Day' at the top of their voices. I wonder what is so different about the day? I have never understood the concept of it, why do you need some first Sunday to celebrate friendship as such! I know I have always been blabbering about how I have the bestest friends on Earth, and all, and I should probably be screaming celebrations, 'Happy Friendship Day'-ing each one of them, but I don't. If anything, I find it all a bit pretentious. It is not a day to celebrate friendship, it might as well be one to remind you 'Oh! Yes, I have friends!' and isn't that a bit sad? I guess, it is. So, I am obediently replying to all those texts and emails, but to the ones I am friends to, in the best possible way, each day is one Friendship Day.

Lost

I don't think, this is what I wanted to begin with... I thought, this one would be happy!

I sit all day thinking of getting my hands on a computer and writing something seriously serious, and when I do, the thoughts are all haphazard and I no longer am able to structure my thoughts and write what I wanted to. 

Do I think I have lost it? 

Well, I think I never had it.

Over and Out!

Well, it was this day I have always wondered about. This, the ending of it all. Finally these years end; it is a relief in most of the ways, and a little down somewhere I feel I am already starting to miss something.

Nostalgia.

It was a long journey from where I began and to where I have reached today. It wasn't so sweet, but nostalgia finds its way into every/any small memory that needs to be re-lived. 

Looking back at these last 5 years and I find a mix of a lot many memories. Not all of them are the good ones, but each one is worth remembering. Whether it was the new beginning in the first year where I had made some of the best friends of my entire life before or the day when I lost those few. Most of it (read the life in the past five years) has been about people I have gotten used to, fond of, in millions of ways. Friends. But, having said that, it was definitely a several other things that made up these years. Pleasant or otherwise, everything had a role to play. I am amused, how many different phases there have been to my life. 

Started on a rather reluctant journey of gaining this coveted title. Architect. I was never really fond of adding that Ar 'dot' before my name, and I still am against it. But, it's just the smile that follows when you're done thinking about the longest five years of your life. Yes, they were unexpectedly long. People often say 'I can't believe how quickly time passed...', but for me, they have been tolerably long, these years. It's not like I mind them being that long, it's just that for me, it couldn't be like the blink of an eye. I mean when I started, I was just old enough to be eligible to vote, or drive a car, and now... I am almost old enough to be married and called 'uncle'. Shit! The thought scares me.

Surprisingly, there were many 'firsts' that happened in these years. The first time I stayed up through the night. The first time I had a six hour exam. The first time I fell in love. The first time I failed in a subject (four for that matter) and of course, the first time I almost wanted to kill myself. I am getting a hint where this frustration is coming from. ;)

 I don't think I could ever get tired of thinking about all these times. Despite some of the best and a few low times, I feel relieved. It is finally over! Maybe, it was over already the day I stood fighting in my thesis jury. But, all this while there has been a slight burden of still being linked to a place I want to get rid of. And now, with everything behind... It is finally done. I am happy. Over and out...

I Hate This...

Well to begin with, let me clarify the title of this post... This is something that I don't want to do, right now at least. All this thinking, writing, introspection etc. etc. for two reasons... One, I am almost convinced that I am in a state where I'd die with depression if it continued for too long and two, well, I'd wound up nowhere even if I tried!

I have reached at a point where am sure everyone comes and think 'What next?' and I don't know how they move on from there, but for me, it's been hell of a task. Not that I am done, but it's being one.

Why couldn't just things come the 'right' way by default? Not having to think what is right, and what is not! Would it hurt God if He made things less complicated? I mean, why couldn't I just explain myself the countless sleepless nights, or why can't I make sense of extremely distorted pattern of thoughts I have in mind! Maybe He does mind easing up on us, even a bit! That is not questioning Him, it's only human to be frustrated and thinking 'why me?', and I do realize am not alone, but do I really care about them others? No, I don't.

I haven't got a clue where does all this frustration, irritation and depression (if you want to call it), comes from. People often ask me, 'why can't you just be okay with things?' and that is when they are telling me about their 'bigger than anyone else' problems, in response to my potentially negligible (as they would like to call it) issues. And I think, can you be? No, you can't be, nobody can be! So stop questioning me...

So again, why couldn't just things come the 'right' way by default?

Switching Scenes...

All this talk of getting old

It's getting me down my love...

They used to be happy words. They really were. But no more...They almost make me sad, depressed to be more precise. What changed?

It has gone for too long now, a fraction short in forever. There is a certain heaviness in the air these days, it's almost like am inhaling solid blocks. I don't choke, how much I want to; I don't want to stop existing, I just feel like putting an end somewhere, somehow...

There are people around, and I don't see nobody. I can listen to them, but I can't hear what they're saying. It makes me sadder. There are strangers shouting in the air, and it bothers me they are not talking to me. Why not me? Why  me? Wasn't I used to remain unaffected earlier? What changed?

It is not that book people told me would depress me. I know, it is not that. I started reading it after I had accustomed myself to breathing the solid blocks of air, after the balance ceased to exist. The Catcher in The Rye. I for one, loved it more than any other book I read recently. For the first time, I couldn't relate to the characters in the book; I indeed connected with the author, it was almost like somebody had read my mind and penned it down. That can't depress me, my mind; or else, I'd have always been depressed in my life, and I was not. Never before, at the least! What changed?

White. It was a peaceful color. Calm, poise, soothing and all such adjectives. But not for me anymore. I am disturbed by its existence around me, it is like something sharp is trying to penetrate my thoughts and disrupt the entirety of my mind. Colors, what do they do to you! I don't remember being swayed by anything as obsolete as colors, white and the rest of them. What changed?

I fail to find the answers; I gave up before I began. I wouldn't ever know what changed, no matter how hard I tried, how loud I questioned or how much I try to change! I sometimes enjoy it, the inability to find the answers; but, there are always more questions than I enjoy.

It is sheer out of desperation I am trying to write, forcing the brain to pop out the words it's trying to contain in itself. I once hoped it would make me feel better, and it does, but I am quite tired of being desperate. 

So, what changed? Well, a lot... and I know what did. But I guess I will just keep them confined inside my head.

Giving Up and Getting On!

Amongst all that sleepless nights, sleepy mind and the sleeplessness state... 

Not being able to close the eyes, get them filled with sleep; not able to get beyond that darkness at nights. When your mind wants to take some rest, when your friends tell you not to; when their mothers find remedies to fix you, when you still believe in 'it's all going to be better soon' and when you give up all the hope you had... It is then you realize there is something wrong with you! 

You couldn't be helped and yet there's a dejected voice telling you 'they never tried'.

Smile... that's all you can! Like always, nobody knows what's behind it; you never thought of what could be! 

Shutting off the mind, like it could be. Capable of thinking a lot of too much at a time, is that a talent? Maybe, if you could do a lot at the same time, that would make a talent. I look back at the past, like I am actually 'looking' at it in real; where did this happen, when? There's no logical explanation to why the brain started calculating too much at once. I wasn't bitten by a genetically cloned spider, or was I? Does that thing even happen in real? How do you explain it then... Oh! Yes, you don't... you can't! 

The man in the white cloak tells me to take a break. Break from? He fails to comment... Was that mine to answer? Only if i knew, would I be then visiting him? I doubt. 

I always had the answer somewhere, I guess... but I am too afraid to reveal it, to myself. I shall wait... till I am ready. For now, I will visit the dreams with my eyes open!

It wouldn't be too soon... but I shall wait till it's clearer I see!

A Remembrance...

Nothing in life is permanent, I had my reasons to believe, but is there? Sometimes I am forced to think were you even real?, you were always too good to be true. It is like you were here the other day, and yet no one believes me that there was an 'other' day!

How can someone cease to exist? You can only dump those cups and glasses of the guava juice in that green dustbin, but you can't erase the memory of you sipping on them. Maybe you can take away the creases from the bedsheets on the small bed in the corner of that poorly lit room, but you failed to destroy my recollection of you creating them... It is too long when you count all these years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds and their fractions... but they are just about countable in my memory of those seven days.

Memories... do they count? You can't put them out in a tray and show the world, and even if you could, it is not possible to make people see them the way you almost live them each and every passing day... It is almost like you never existed! I am not bothered if every single person tells me you were a lie; it is only when you make me stop believing you were real. 

Will I ever see you again? Will there be a day when am reassured that you did exist? Maybe not. What is it that keeps me away from giving up on you... Were it only those seven days? Or, these several days when you have given me reasons to never let you go, just by being a permanent memory! 

You are permanent... Even if everything else cease to exist, even if I ceased to exist; you'd still find a way to be still here, on my mind!

My eyes are still heavy, and it's not the sleep... it's you!

Every Destination Has a Journey to It...

It has been waiting there in my drafts since December 24, 2011... It wasn't the lack of time to finish, but I couldn't find a way to perfect it; imperfection wouldn't do justice for what it's worth! But then, there is no humanly possible way to  achieve perfection in a case where the degree of perfection only gets higher every time you re-read it... and so, I leave it here... 

I don't know how I ended up here, but am glad I did. It was perhaps the nonsensical episodes of 'How I met your mother' that left me here, wanting so badly to write about people I no longer can imagine to have lived without. Friends.

Them and theirs!

It has been an interesting journey till here. It is in no way the destination of the journey I had started five years ago, but how often are you happy about not getting your story right? Never, I guess. But this one time, I can live with it. It is perhaps the best mishap that could happen to anyone. Five years ago, I initiated a long chapter of my life, that I thought wouldn't ever reach a satisfying end. Meanwhile, I met people who didn't only make me 'edit' this chapter, but made this chapter feel redundant, and to this day, I feel happy deleting it.

I had started my graduation on a very unhappy note. I had just dropped out of an aeronautical course that my father had paid a fortune for. It was unimaginably hard for me to ever make up for it, all I wanted to do was just get over with a graduation, do a job, earn money and pay back in the only possible way I could. If only choosing architecture wasn't wrong enough, I ended up in a class where I had nobody to help me sail through the long tiring five years that were to come. The 'chapter' started with makeshift friends that I knew were never going to help me in any way to ease up the process of 'making it through'. It was upsetting in a very unexplainable way. I had never lived without someone worthy of being called a 'friend', and as hard as it was, the only possible thing to do was to pretend to be friends with the makeshift arrangements that the first week of college had made for me.

Pretense was never a thing that I could perfect ever, but as I look back at those times... it feels as if my entire life before that was nothing but a bad pretense. And then, one day 'you need to change the company you're living in...' was all it could take to reconsider even the idea of the pretense that I had happily accepted. 

I can never trace back how it started, but towards the end of the second year I had now some people who had completely evicted the pretense out of my life, and to this day, they have constantly redefined the term 'friendship' for me.

It was a girl on the first day of my college, who made things easier for me just by being there that day, or else, I'd have died out of regret and would probably have dropped out before the beginning of 'this' end here. Things with her started on a pleasant note, though they never remained the same throughout what with the coming of a new chapter in her life, but that's entirely a different story. I can't imagine not meeting her that day and having a different life than the one I lived these past years. I am not sure if I have been anything to her or not, but she has been something more than the 'first day of college' to me. With a lot of bumps in our journey together, life with her has been tremendously amazing for me. Her saying/doing things for me has been as helpful as her not doing anything at times; because above everything else, she has been an amazing friend to me, for the times that I will cherish forever.

They are the people who tell you never to thank them, or be sorry to them. But it is sometimes impossible not to thank them or be sorry. If there was a way to be thankful to them for their presence in my life, I'd put it in an endless loop.

I am sure if I hadn't met these people, my life would've been totally different. The 'girl from the first day' was a link to the many more mirrors to her. It was indeed the telephonic conferences with her and the 'other' guy that marked the beginning of something that lasted forever, because the  'other' guy wasn't just a part of the preface to my life, he became an entire chapter. I remember seeing him from the other end of the classroom on one of the days in the first week of college. He looked absolutely normal (was a rare thing, when I looked at the rest of the class) and somehow all he said made sense back then. As it turns out, he did give sense to every imaginable nonsense. He was funny and beyond; redefined humor to me if nothing more. This might sound gay, but he did have an overwhelming identity. He has been one of the several reasons that has made me go on with the journey; had it not been his 'sometimes intolerable' jokes, I would probably have lost everything I had in the name of a sense of humor!

It's been a roller coaster ride, these five years; and I always had these people puking with me together, when the twists and turns in it were killing.

I was used to be made fun of, what with the last two years of my school being unimaginably lifeless, but let's not go there! There were the three of them, I always counted them as one. I don't exactly remember why, but am sure they had a reason of their own to irritate me. I wouldn't say I hated them for what they did, it was only for how they did. It is indeed surprising for even myself how things changed from what they were. Two of the three, if not all of them became a part of what I have loved dearly over the past five years. I wouldn't call it a coincidence, it is just a gift.

He wasn't there wholly when the unpretentious days in the starting of my second year had just begun, but he was somewhere around. He was one third of the single unit that them three created, but for some weird reason I couldn't make myself dislike him. The 'other' guy and him joined our team in the beginning of this new session, and how everything changed is out of my recall limit. It has been one excessively exciting trip for me, these last so many years. He added something to the book that was being written. If I could pick point one thing out of him, I would but there wasn't a single perfect thing... there were many, or maybe it was his bloated perfection in everything that I have enjoyed every time. From being from the other territory, to being one of the best friends, I have found his presence utterly amusing and beyond, because it is through the passage of time that I have begun to realize what I will be missing without these people around...

I look back at everything and it makes a good laugh; living with people you once abhorred, if 'hated' is a term too harsh. I wasn't exactly a fan of these people initially. I remember being on the other end from them, and interestingly, it is one side that we create together now, or so I believe if they don't.

It was the other one third that took time to be acquainted with. Besides being the other end, he was the reason behind the little bump that the 'girl from the first day' and I faced. It wasn't only the fun making part that he so much enjoyed initially that I had almost hated him; the more obvious reason would be the distances that were created by him. But, time has a fix for everything... and I can't believe that he is more of a friend than those that helped me sail through the initial days of this stupid college. It is true that we do not share a very happy bond, or like the one I share with the rest of them, but he is as dear to me as the others, maybe a little more than others. I am amazed by how he has proved me wrong at so many things that I had happily assumed before knowing him. It is his blunt kindness that I admire; knowing for sure he'd be there if there was a need. It is hard for me to put it in words, this equation; and I don't want to mess it up by trying, because beyond a doubt... he is one happy chapter of the book that is being read out.

Nostalgia... if you want to call it that! 

The last five years gave me several million reasons to be nostalgic now, when the journey is about to be over that we all once embarked on together, headed in different directions but traveled together for the same destination; today! 

There are so many faces that I have seen, met, known, forgotten in these years. But, they are the faces I will never get tired of seeing! I have the most clearest memory of seeing this girl's face among all the strangers that surrounded me the first day of my college. I wouldn't be able to recall what was, but there was something different to this one. The next day, she was there at the podium, singing the 'entertainer' song for the whole class. I had found it extremely amusing. I felt glad on knowing there weren't all the jerks in this class of 40 people. It took time... but soon it was time; I got the chance of 'knowing' her. She was different in all the possible ways, and amazing in everything that others were always pretending to be good at. I have never forgotten the visual of her singing for the class... it gives me back some of the memories that I want to live again. She'll always be that amazing amusing  girl to me... but the process of knowing her is still well... a process; she has so much more to her, beyond being one of the best that she is! 

There is so much to look back and I am surprised by how many things I miss every time. These have been the perfect five years of my life (ignoring 'some' part of it) and I wouldn't ever be bored of talking about it. I might not have given anybody any such moments to look back and smile, but they sure have given me the time of my life.

I remember a day or two before all this began... I did not feel any different coming to this place; I had my own reasons. The place was too known to me, and then... I had an old companion to be traveling with me. I had known him since long, but came to 'know' him only the last two years of my school life. He had been a distinct stranger all the years before that; distinct, because we knew each other in our own ways. He's been a mysterious friend all these years; had his own ways of being one. It wasn't a usual bond... it was beyond ordinary; and it still is. Knowing him before coming here feels totally different because there's a difference in the way I know him now. He'd be there when you have failed (literally) without the usual sympathies; he has his own ways of giving you the support that you need. He won't be there at 12 o' clock to wish you a Happy Birthday, but he will make sure you're remembered through his own silly ways of wishing! He'll tell you only the things you want to hear, but will listen to everything you have to say!
He has been a unique friend and I wouldn't ever be able to put it in words, why!

Them are the reasons... I can rejoice and be happy and more! Each of them has a way of their own to give you even more and that is what makes it worth living!

She looked a plain Jane when she stepped in the drowning classroom one of the rainy days. They were a trio that grabbed attention of every sane and insane being in that room. I only remember the minute conversations that we had that used to last only for a few multiple of some fractions of a second. It felt good, knowing them, talking to them; felt different each time. And then there was a jump... I am not able to trace back how the plain Jane became the monster that she is; a lovely monster that one ;) She's been one amazing friend, like we've known each other since forever, and we have... I adore her craziness that we both share; doing things 'her way' is always an adventure. She would always be there to listen to you and give you some amazingly non sensible ideas sometimes; she'll make you do things that you wouldn't ever do otherwise... and beyond everything, she'll try to be the best friend in any possible way she can be... and then, she surely is one!

"The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination."

                                                                              -- Don Williams, Jr.

When 'red' is much more than a color!

And it surely is the fellow travelers that makes it... I feel lucky to have them for mine. It was only yesterday when it all began, and I wouldn't ever wish it to end. I take myself back to each of the days when I met them, and it brings back the same curiosity of knowing them more. It feels refreshing to have reasons and more to look back and just smile over... nothing! But, then you don't want to; because they wouldn't ever give up on giving you more such reasons!

It Is Already Tomorrow...

Words.

How long has it been? There is so much inside...

Post the end of the longest days of my life, it has taken a painfully long time to come back to my usual self. I didn't know things could change so much with just one little alteration... Life, as we know it, ends with the beginning of the days in that small cubicle sized room full of people, and yet a breathing lifeless module; when you lose track of time, even though 'time' essentially becomes everything, what with the lacking of occasions to spend it in quality; failing to create 'moments', everything is just a daily schedule.

Routine! I never liked it. It just kills all you had made up over the several years of your unorganized life. The end of a habit disrupts the primary schedule, so how could 'routine' fix anything! 

When weekends are looked forward to, with desperation, with hope... waited for, like never before. You get to create moments; adding quality to the time that flies away even before the 48 hours of the weekends are over. Meeting people, and not just seeing them. Conversations, not just talks. There's so much in those two days. There is so much accumulated over the week, that two days wouldn't ever suffice.

I don't know what do I miss about the time that was... It was perhaps the sheer existence of things that could be done with the time that we had, even if we did nothing with it. It is already a nostalgia! 

It was only yesterday... 

It is already tomorrow...

Too soon!

 

If only they could give me some time!

Reversal

Life sure is funny. How it takes a total 360 at times.

I remember a time when there was nothing that I couldn't share with someone. 

And today, I have nobody to share so much with.

Is it The End?

This was the day I had been waiting all my life.... if not the entire of it, at least the last five years of it! I should be excitedly happy, but am not. I do not know why. Honestly, I don't even want to know why.

The past six months were insanely crazy. I remember starting on a very happy note. I was excited about the coming days, weeks and months. I knew it would be an interesting journey, but as it turns out, the next day I was mourning what had just begun a day ago. It was probably the stupidest mistake I could make at such a crucial stage, but then... I couldn't help committing it; it was destiny!

I have tried to sum it up in words, but I cannot. The 'end' of it was painful, not because it was ending, but because it wasn't ending the way I had foreseen it. Yet, I couldn't complain; after all, I had expected a lot, from myself and of course from these last six months. But I was pretending to be satisfied with what was happening, at last it was ending at least. Nevertheless, I couldn't disappoint myself any further. It was a complete failure. And, yet again!

Will it ever End?

I want to run and hide... Just want to end things forever! But, I want so many things that are beyond achievable! Maybe, I should just put an end to this hoping; a hope to fix things that are long distorted and broken. I perhaps should just put an end to everything. 

But it is not in my hands, and if it was, it wouldn't have ever begun.

Whatever Happened?

I wanted to be the only person who can see this blog, so that I can write anything I want without having to think twice before doing so. But, I am kind of bound by my own freedom. I do not know what to write, or how to. There has been a pattern to all the posts; an identity of their own. I never thought of the people who were gonna read what I write, so that I don't have to compromise on my freedom in the name of universal accessibility. But yes, I do think carefully about 'what' to write. 'How' is probably not of my concern, but it was the 'what' that wanted me to hide this blog from everyone.

I don't know if this is the reason, but I just overtook somebody along the road. A companion. No, it wasn't a second that clicked on my watch, it was an eternity. I have known this moment since ages, and yet it's all so new. Time surely is a miraculous thing; re-casts everything with itself.

It is sad when a stranger tells you things you'd never want to hear, even from your own friends. But it is sadder when a friend becomes a stranger and hurt you in a way that even a 'true' stranger can not. It's more than painful, its close to rubbing the wounds, if it gives a sense of degree to it. But you cannot ignore the reason why the said friend would turn his back on you. It's probably the thing most easily neglected, but somewhere deep beneath those several layers of complaints and aches, you know you were responsible for it somewhere, even if it was a fraction of a nothing. 

I don't know how I ended up here. I have walked too much ahead of what this was supposed to be. I remember myself being the ridiculously ignorant brat who didn't give a damn to whatever complexities life had worn for him. The term for him today is 'mean', or better... 'selfish'. I am not here to defend myself, but to complain. Complain to God, about making me feel so helpless. I do not want people's sympathy; neither their testimonies to my 'goodness' nor their MoU with me. In plain simple words, I just want God to explain me this simple thing... why did I have to evolve into this excessively complicated creature who has his own ways to define things. I am thankful to Him for making things so complicatedly easy for me to identify with them. But, why couldn't He had just given everyone the same level of simplifying complexities. Does that make me unique? Or, is it weird? I guess, it's the 'odd one out' more than anything else. 

I am tired of trying to get to the roots of this heavily intricate and complex structure of mine. 

I started with writing diary entries once, to get my English right. It took, surprisingly very little time to do so. But, now it's all about getting my 'self' right. And, it surely is taking a forever!

The Lights are Out!

One for the unending smile on their face

When they put in all their efforts to twist their fate

A hint of a joy over the slightest hope

A glint of an achievement over the faintest nothing

Let's do it once, let's act above our self

Let's give them joy, let's be someone else!

Flashbacks are something that rarely happen in the real life.

It was the burst of a cracker that brought one for me. It brought back the nights from more than a decade ago. 

It is the eve of the Diwali, and everywhere around is nothing but the brightly lit diyas and colorful lights. It was perhaps a lifetime ago, when this day meant more than a holiday to me, when it was an eagerness to burn the crackers, light the diyas, not thinking even once about the superficial existence of the so-called religious differences. Perhaps there were not any, back then, and there indeed are not any. The sheer joy derived out of the colorful crackers was worth listening to those self-righteous-orthodox-religious-laureates.

But...

Gone are the days...

Lighting up hopes!

Walking down the chilling asphalt road, I look at these dwindling flames in the middle of almost nowhere. It is not my curiosity, but I have to walk towards my destination. The waving flames are now dotted with a bleak laughter, but I do not see a human figure until I am in close proximity to the kids that now I can see clearly. Yes, it is the festival of lights and everywhere is a dense group of people celebrating in the best of their ways; yet, here I am, staring at some of the creatures trying to find happiness in a candle that is now only an inch of melted wax. I wouldn't mind if they come bothering me to give them a penny, but today, they won't. There is an intangible hope in their eyes; a hope to get everything from somebody far above the smoky sky tonight.

Maybe, burning the crackers and jumping with joy was my style of celebration years ago. But today, it is an attempt to give these little kids an excuse to rejoice. It is only a handful of chocolates and crackers to me, but it is a 'Diwali' for them.
And, this is the least I can do. 
Because, it's good to be human sometimes!

Making 'non'Sense!

I got up this morning and thought of doing something extraordinary. And more than the day has passed, I am still looking for that 'extraordinary' to be done. Stupid thoughts I have sometimes, I must say.

So, since morning I have been carefully observing everything that I have come across (and that is to say, computer, tv and food) so as to find something to be done in the name of doing extraordinary. Nevertheless, the search had to end somewhere.

The greatest thoughts come when you are attending the nature's call (I truly believe that). So, I was about to flush my potty when it came to my mind (I know you are going all yucky already), the potty reminded me of someone. Not the look of it, not the smell of it (I am going to die of the overdose of my own nonsense today), but the sheer idea of it... you know... being a 'waste'. I can not think of anyone else more 'waste'ful at this time, than the person who's been shitting on my life for the past four months (I had almost written the name, but my keyboard blasted itself because its keys couldn't bear the mention of his name). Coming back to the potty reminder; he's almost as good as 'shit' (waste, disgusting, and the smell that could kill, literally) but even there he's a step ahead of the poor potty. The innocent potty is at least washed away and makes you feel lighter (of course, you can't deny that, no matter how grossed out you are with this); but the shit eating loser is stuck to the seat (read, my life) permanently it seems, and no matter how hard I flush, he's not going to go anywhere and will just add on to the stink.

Now, am thinking why I ended up here (I had to do something extraordinary, right?). So, I haven't 'done' anything extraordinary. I have just discovered something to make up for it. And my discovery? Well, that contrary to my old saying 'Shit happens! Flush it', I have reached a point where I can not resist modifying it a bit...
***(I just wanted to keep my keyboard safe) happens, flush youself, because he's not gonna go anywhere! (Sadly)

P.S. I have made my non'sense', so now I can happily resume with making sense.
And damn, the loser has beaten up the potty too! (*puked and died*)

Where Is The Way?

Beginnings are always hard to work with. I would usually  make through, only if I could begin on a perfect start. That, probably is the problem with most of my doings. What am I thinking? More importantly, Why? I fail to understand why I cannot just start with whatever I have in my mind. Why do I always have to think too much; think of a third man's perception, overriding my own. It feels like am doing things for somebody else. And again, I cannot make the why of it. 

When was the last time I did not think of a several other things before doing something? I would run out of time if I tried to track it down. It was most likely, years ago when I had an aimless mind. Funny, how you lose self-control over gaining a direction to your acts.

Dead Ends

I do not know if there would ever be a way to put this down and move on. For me, it is like a permanent scar; to my memories. Who doesn’t make efforts to create the most cherishing memories of all times, but you cannot help when you end up facing times that will construct the worst of the memories. I have made up those ones, pretty often. Time heals everything, there was a common saying I grew up listening; believing it wasn’t a possibility for me. Time, however long it has been, hasn’t healed anything whatsoever, not even the outline of the limitless nightmares. I never wanted to, but I do remember each and every little thing that ended up in creating a bad memory. I am now smiling over the long gone ones, but it isn’t the healing that’s making me do so, it’s just the habitual ordeal that I have accustomed myself with. Nevertheless, I am finding it hard to smile over the fresh ones, and I have a feeling that it is never going to happen. For however long it takes, I shall give up anything to come out of here. I can happily do away with having a nightmare in the middle of my comfortless sleep, but I’d give up all my breathing, only if there was a way to come out of living this nightmare. 

Let there be light!

I Believe I Can Fly.... Again!

If only there was a way to attain peace, I would have given my everything to enjoy it for even a fraction of a second, at present. But I guess it's too much I am asking for. Or, is it? Wasn't there a time when everything was in place, and I was at peace? Or, was there? I guess it has been too long to count it in.

I fail to recall when was the last time I was not thinking too much. I can't even trace back the path that lead me here, at this position. I guess I wouldn't be able to define this position. It seems like impossible, or if there was a word to define beyond impossibility. Such is the situation, I fail to understand the whys and hows myself, so silence is the reply to them who want to help me restate myself. I wish I could be helped, but it is that word that defines the beyond of impossibility.

There are people who really, actually, desperately want to see that lost smile on my face. Then, there are those who are satisfied with that pretentious smile of mine. When do I not laugh! And, then there are those who want to help me, but are trying hard to be convinced with that same fictitious smile, because they know the possibilities. I have no grievances with either of them. It is what they see, it is what they believe... But I am disappointed with myself; the failure at being normal once, or again.

It is not me failing to explain, or express; it is like a failed explanation. I know not a way to say it. The closest word I can find right now is "restless", if it qualifies to explain my inability to be at peace mentally and beyond. 

I write when I am upset, or when I am too happy. It brings me closer to what am seeking, add more to the happiness. But the same happiness is dotted with an expiry date. Where is the peace?, they ask. Exactly, where is the peace? I search.

The quest has been on, since I don't know how long. If only I didn't believe in the existence  of normality, I'd have given up long back. But, I believe...

It has been forever since you're gone...
 This little hope is why am still holding on!

Spitting Out

I just got up from a 4 hours sleep, which is too less considering I didn't sleep for the past 52 hours. But, I just couldn't lie sleeping with all those repeated dark dreams haunting me. I wanted to get up and run  away, but I am too tired. How else do I take out what's pissing me off for the last whole month (probably ever since it happened first, three years back). 

I couldn't have regretted anything more than I do living that one day inside that office. I knew it was a mistake; standing for myself, speaking out my mind. It couldn't have been a worse time to do so. Nothing in life will I regret more than those few minutes of my life in the dark lord's office. Quite honestly, regretting going to Kolkata after my school doesn't seem to even qualify for the list of my regrets in life anymore; it is this bad. Post the Kolkata episode of my life, I had decided not to regret anything in life, for I thought there wouldn't be anything worse than choosing the wrong place and career. As it turns out, I was wrong. That probably wasn't even a thing to regret, I didn't have the slightest idea back then of how it feels to 'actually' regret something. It is million times painful than I thought it to be.

It is not anger, not frustration or irritation. It is much more beyond that. If there was a word to describe the feeling of 'wanting' to die not because you're suicidal, but because you want to be; I would be that word right now. I have always been clear about 'there's no point complaining, when you can't help it', but I have breached my own ideologies. It seems like all that talk of never regretting, stop complaining, live with it, that's how life is and the other million fucking things is all but bullshit. Pure and simple.

Living with a regret is the worse thing to happen to anyone, and saying this I don't want to indicate that I have already sailed through the biggest regret of my life. It is going to last for six months, and maybe more. 

It is that one person who has fucked my life once before, and is happily doing again right now. It is only fair to call him a 'pig', that everyone does. But sometimes I feel bad for the pigs whose name he is tarnishing. Pigs are more 'human' than him, and I feel there is a desperate need of adding a new word to the common vocabulary, to describe what he is. All the abuses he gets never do the justice to what he in real is, and that's why it's even more frustrating. You can't even say things and get happy. It won't ever be easy. Abusing him won't put you at peace, killing him would be too 'kind' for what he deserves. 

Guess, I will have to satisfy myself saying things to him.

But, I shall soon be doing things. Six months.

To him.

For those millions of poor lives he has contaminated with his presence.