A Bright Day

It was a beautiful day. Cloudy, sunny and rainy all at the same time. One could hear all those morning sounds, like the chirping of the birds, or rustling of the leaves in the wind; and that familiar smell of the slightly wet roads in the dew. The comforting calm of the Sunday morning was disturbed by the hustle in the corner house. The croissants were in the oven, and Natalie was busy vacuuming her home. 

‘Who wakes up at 6:30 on a Sunday morning,’ Natalie thought to herself, as she tidied up her gallery. She then found the perfect spot on the bench, where she felt the warmth of the sun, while enjoying the cool breeze. The silence was eerie, almost unnatural as compared to the droning of the vacuum-cleaner. At first, Natalie felt strangely uncomfortable in her own house – all alone on a Sunday morning, no one to speak to, and nothing to do. 

Suddenly, the beautiful morning smell transformed into that of burning plastic. Natalie sprung out of her discomfort, almost naturally feeling happy at the thought of some impending drama. The oven wire was sparking, and a buzzing sound came from the socket. Without a second thought, she unplugged the oven. And, slowly, she heard the silence of the house grow even louder. The fans went off, lights were out, and the smell of fresh croissants was now overpowering that of the burning wire. It was a beautiful morning, all alone at home, and the power had just gone out. ‘Can’t call the electrician on a Sunday,’ thought Natalie, as she stood aimlessly in the middle of her kitchen, staring at the little fumes coming out of the oven wire. That was the most eventful thing that was going to happen all day, and it was already over!

Today was supposed to be her day off – a day of serial baking and binge watching her favorite tv shows. Guess she couldn’t do that anymore – thank you, electricity! She thought of cleaning the rest of the house, only to realize that even the vacuum is now redundant. 

The smell of the croissants was still overpowering. So, decided to make some chai-tea, and plated up the croissants. As the tea brewed, she went to her book shelf and tried to find an old book she had been meaning to read for a while now. Over the years, Natalie was so caught up in life, that she had slowly lost the habit of reading. Once an avid reader, and book collector, Natalie’s ‘to-read’ list only grew longer over the years, as her desire to essentially pick up the book and start reading seemed to have died. Today, she decided to reignite her passion.

She started digging through all the ‘intelligent reads’ she had collected over the years, and reached her stash of guilty pleasures. These were the books she loved reading from time to time, but found it so hard to admit to everyone, being the book-snob that she was! She placed her copy of ‘Tale of the Cities’ on the table in her gallery, and went towards the kitchen. Chai was ready, and so was she!

Tale of the Cities was one of those soapy reads filled with unexpected, but rather convenient coincidences, sassy dialogs, opportune deaths, and of course bubbly romantic humor. Natalie plated her croissants, and poured chai into a rather comforting size of mug. She ran pranced through the remainder of her unkempt house, trying to silence the part of her mind that said she absolutely had to clean it. 

Well, the book was tucked at the back of the shelf, and was free of dust. Natalie opened the book, and started reading it. After the first two paragraphs, she started instagram-ing pictures of her cute mug, and oh-so-delicious croissants. ‘I have to read,’ she chided herself, as she turned her phone to silent, and kept it out of sight. 

After hours of reading, and many ohs, ahs and oh-my-gosh moments, Natalie finally kept the book away. She felt so good. After many years she had dedicated time to herself, doing things she truly enjoyed. She had almost forgotten about being all alone on a Sunday, and even the fact that the power had been out for four hours now. The sun was shining brighter, but a soft breeze made its way through. For lunch, Natalie decided to order some pizza. ‘The cheesier, the better,’ she thought. 

While she lunched, Natalie played some old music on her phone, and was listlessly looking around her house as she noticed a picture of her mother hanging on the wall. She realized how the picture had always been there; though, its location was too nondescript to ever remind Natalie of her mom. She stopped the music, and called her mom. Although it was a normal phone call, she felt a bit queasy. ‘Could be the pizza,’ she thought. 

‘Hello, mother,’ said Natalie, unsure of what to say next. ‘Hi dear, how have you been?’ her mom enquired. ‘hmmm I’ve been good. And you?’ she asked. ‘Natalie dear, are you okay? You sound like you wanna say something.’ Natalie mustered some courage and said, ‘Would you like to spend some time with me?’ Her mom instantly replied ‘why of course. I’ll be there in couple of minutes!’ Natalie mumbled an ‘okay’ and the phone clicked. ‘WOW. I didn’t even tell her that there’s no electricity here!’

She didn’t know what to do. She spent the next seventeen minutes tidying up the rest of the house to please her mother. When her mom arrived, the doorbell didn’t sound (of course! No power, duh!) and so the thudding on the door disturbed Natalie’s disarrayed chain of thoughts. 

‘Hey mom,’ she hugged her. After some uncomfortable conversations and few glasses of wine, mother and daughter eased up. Natalie’s mother had brought a few old photo albums, which they both went through, sometimes reminiscing the good ol’days, at other times arguing over how the events had gone down! It was a beautiful trip down the memory lane. As a few hours passed, Natalie offered her mother some of the croissants she baked, along with the pizza. 

Her mother was ever so happy to be present, Natalie realized that she ought to do this more often. It was evening, and now that her father was back home from work, the women decided to call him over for dinner to Natalie’s. ‘But there’s no electricity here,’ interjected Natalie. ‘No problem, dear, we’ll light a few candles,’ said her mother. It was a while before her father came home with some chinese food in boxes. He also brought some cheesecake for his daughter. ‘Your favorite,’ he said. Natalie realized how much her parents remembered about her likes and, the fact that they still cared to take care of her little needs. She felt really nice.

As the family sat in the gallery, the moonlight and streetlights (of course) were sufficient lighting for the evening. Though, her mother insisted on the candles and some light music, for the sake of ambience! The family enjoyed a rather simple meal, talking about old things and new! They reopened those old photographs again, trying to remember what actually happened. There was more chuckling, and of course, more wine! Natalie never thought she was old enough to drink with her parents, although they felt otherwise. They treated her like nothing but an adult. It was awkward, mostly because she felt very protected around them, and at the same time, she had the liberty to enjoy herself. She glanced at them again, as they talked, and smiled to herself, just enjoying the moment. She even clicked a few candid pictures from her phone, and this time, she promised herself she would get these printed, and not let them pile on like e-garbage!

Her father then brought the cheesecake, which Natalie thoroughly enjoyed with the rest of her wine! It was a combination she really loved – creamy cheesecake with a glass of red wine! All the talks and giggles grew dimmer, as Natalie started to sleep a bit on the chair itself. Her father cleaned her bed for her, and her mother helped her change into something comfortable. They tucked her in bed, and thoughtfully opened the window just enough for the breeze to flow in. For the first time in the past decade, Natalie didn’t care if her phone was around her. 

She woke up the next morning around ten. She was not used to sleeping in. Her father had called the electrician, and the power was back on. The house was neat, there were no signs of their small party last night, and her parents were seated at the gallery, enjoying the croissants she’d made. It was such a comforting sight. 

Natalie glanced at her oven, praying that the power went off again. She had found the light in her life.

Eerie Memoirs

Entry 2

I feel nausea in my own skin. I feel a sickness growing inside of me. On the outside, I feel completely normal and calm. However, in my head there are voices. They are telling me how wretched and dismal my very existence is. They remind me that I am nothing. They are piercing into my soul.

I cry every day. Very few days have gone by in the past decade that I have not cried. There have been so many inflictions. There has been so much pain. I just want to retire into a perennial sleep.

I feel haunted – my mind is wasted, my body is tired. Like, an old forest, I feel withered, dead from the inside. Like dark creatures live within a dead forest, malevolence and barbarism thrive within me. It’s scary how beautiful this doomed jungle is; it’s my soul, I’m telling you. It’s my very soul that is filled with darkness that torments my existence each day. It torments me enough to want to die, yet not enough to murder me. There is so much quiet here, I can hear my heartbeats like a drum. There is no air here, yet I still feel poisoned as I breathe in the everlasting depravity within this murkiness.

Every so often a bit of sunlight might pierce the withered canopy, but this ray of hope brings so much more hopelessness to my entire existence. That little spark of optimism, the very anticipation of getting out of this labyrinth of madness, is a farce. Hope is a farce.

I want it to end. This hope is not letting me take my own life. This love around me is not letting me strangle myself to death. I don’t know why but ever so often in this forest of despondency and agony, grows a little flower of happiness and hope.

I wonder how much more I must suffer to close this vile canopy to the outside world. I want this desiccated forest to consume me from within. I want that agony to come out of me as I die, and envelope my soul as I strangle myself, finding peace in every moment of breathlessness. I wish to die.

Photo courtesy - @geetshah26 (click to view his work) 

From the ink-blots in my notebook

Dear Friend,

I don’t know how you feel. Or how must I console you. I am not that good a counsel, but I am going to try. For all these years I’ve known you, I’ve watched you grow into an amazing person – stronger, yet mellow, with each passing year. But today, I am moved. I am moved by how strong you’ve been. I am moved by how brave you are. I can’t imagine a day in life without my beloved. And, yours has flown miles apart. How could you survive that? And still be so strong? I admire you.

Every time I see you cry I see a person stronger than I knew. Your heart is forged of tensile steel, stretching oceans apart, yet unbreakable.  Every time I see you cry, I cry – not because I am sad for you. No, my love. I cry because nothing makes me happier than to see you’re so strong in the face of such life-turning events. I cry because I see my friend has found untainted love on the face of this evil planet.

My friend, you are one of the luckiest people alive. You have a man, who has filled your world with so much love, that it physically hurts you when he departs. Cry. May be, it will make you stronger. I don’t know how things work. But I do know this – yours is the purest heart I have ever known. In the face of adversity, you shall rise from your tears, and fight those difficulties with a smile on your face. Not only because you are strong enough to fight, but also because you are brave enough to face your demons.

I can physically feel the utter mayhem in your heart. You're trapped in the same nightmare you keep waking up into. Days are turning into nights. Time seems to have come to a standstill, yet it seems like time is passing by too fast. You don’t know how to feel. What is it about love – it’s energy wraps all around you. You can physically feel it shielding you from sorrows. But, still your heart breaks. It’s not even consciousness; it’s just an awareness in the dark.

It must be killing you from inside every time he goes away. But look at you coming back to life again, just to see if he’s okay. Imagine that time, few years from now, when you see him again. He might have changed, grown as a person, lost some weight, may be. But, as he walks towards you again, smiling, looking into your eyes. You’ll know. You’ll know it’s the same smile. It’ll be like he’d never gone away. That, my friend, is an achievement; an achievement which ordinary couples like ourselves will never experience, may be because we are not strong enough to stay apart.

But you, my dear, you are made of far superior stuff – your heart is made of the stars, and who else, but you could be ever present in his life? You are the reason he holds on, when he wants to let go. Your love shields him from the evil, and your memories soothe him like a balm, at the end of a painful day. You are his everything. Don’t break down, my dear. I shall stand by you.

Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and kindles the great.* Burn bright, my friend. Burn bright. There is no greater glory, than to be forged through the fires of hell. The fire will give you power and your heart will give you strength – your love will rise above the ashes. You, my dear, shall survive.

Forever and always,

Your friend

*Quote by Roger de Bussy-Rabutin

Picture Courtesy : @geetshah26

Spiritual Anarchy

All these years, life has been changing. A lot. Everyday. And, I feel that substance – the shift from one day to the next. It’s like a boulder added to the heap every new time.  I don’t even blink. I hear voices and cry. I am trapped inside my head. It’s dark and cold here. Sometimes, I see the light. I feel its God coming to my rescue. I am not sure. Most of my days, I have found solace in religion. I have found peace in temples, but not in the heart within.

Have you ever been in an accident? It’s like when you fully recover from a calamity, but still feel the rush of the aftermath – that’s how I feel. You know, even silence is something you can hear. It’s even deafening, at times. Have you ever seen someone writhe in pain, screaming noiselessly? It’s the greatest outcry for help from within. It’s the heart crying.

I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t know why I write these things. I feel like I am in frenzy all the time, trying to fight everything all at once. In my head, I’ve given up. I want to physically hurt myself sometimes, to see if bodily pain is greater than the heartache that I bear. I don’t want to die, but I often feel like I want to take my own life.

I’m free-falling into the recesses of my past. I am floating somewhere, mid-air. There is an odd sense of peace as I plunge into the darkness. I feel like I belong here. This is my chaos. This was where I was always meant to be.

Mid-afternoon ramblings

I walked the same road again. I missed her. I have never felt so forlorn in a crowd. Never have I felt so obscure on this road. I can see us sitting by the ocean, looking into its vast expanse and talking and laughing. We never held hands. We never kissed. But it was romantic. It was friendship.

I admit I haven’t spent all these years moping. I had been watching her from afar. But now it was time for us to meet. She lived inside her head now. Seeing things she wanted to see, conjuring images and bringing them to life. She was crazed. She loved the solace of her mind.

‘Hey,’ I said as I brushed her hand, feeling her cool, silky skin. But, she looked blank. Inside her head, I knew there was a storm and I could literally feel the energy from her mind exuding into the room.

I was scared, and I didn't know if she even recognized me anymore. But she just held out her hand and said, ‘Hold my hand, and I will keep you safe.’ This was my only chance. This was the closest I had gotten in years. So, I decided to do it. I closed my eyes, and lied down next to her, probing through the recesses of my mind for an ounce of spirituality. There was none.

In my entire life I didn't feel as religious as I felt that very moment, as I said ‘Dear God.’

I was right there, in that house. Broad daylight had transformed into the dark of midnight. In the very corner of our room, I saw it. It adorned a dark robe, and it was breathing. It was like smoke, but thick and somehow, alive. As it consumed me, I went on travelling to other places. I was breathing it, living its thoughts, feeling its cool rush under my skin.

I looked at her. ‘Now, is the best part. Hold on tight,’ she said smiling. The next thing I knew, we were walking through a path. Those coloured flags captivated me. We walked through the woods until we reached a cabin. It was like the place had no life. None. I didn't even know where I was standing anymore. As I walked into the cabin, I saw it. I saw it all. I didn't know if this was real, or was I just losing my mind?

All my feelings had taken form. I felt like my emotions amplified. It was almost like I was out of my own body and staring at another version of me – a more ethereal version of me. I saw us reunite there. I saw that were together again sitting by the ocean and being carefree. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I felt queasy. As though the smoke I was breathing was slowly poisoning me. So, I let go of her and quickly walked out.

I saw her there – holding on to the bars of the window, peering into the sunlight. Her eyes were empty, and her face seemed pale. I wanted to bring her out of the labyrinth of emotions she had tangled herself in. I wanted to be the awakening she needed. I knew this was going to hurt me more than I could ever endure. I simply sighed, and looked at her face, and in that very moment I knew what I had to do. I reached for her hand and went back into a trance.

As we walked back through the mirth of the city lights, all I could remember was that faded photograph; but my memories were still afresh. There is nothing more fulfilling than pure, unadulterated friendship.

Never Gone

Never Gone

She held Mark's hand and led him through the woods. He saw a wonderful land where the trees were as green as they could be; sunlight was peering out of the clouds and a perfect rainbow drawn across the sky. He could hear a brook gurgling in the distance, and little splashes of water as they hit the rocks.

Mark gazed into her eyes as she escorted him deeper into that magical land. Although he was aware of the enthralling beauty around him, he was more engaged in looking at her walk him through the forest. Her face was gleaming, and she wore her hair loose. Every now and then she would glance at Mark and secretly smile as she looked around.

Suddenly, he felt his vision blurring into darkness. 'Call the paramedics,' he could hear from a distance.

   *** 

'Doctor, is he going to be okay?' Alice hurriedly scuttled across the hospital to get enough help for Mark. 'He fainted as he was walking across the lawn this morning,' she explained.

Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, commonly known as LSD, is a hallucination-inducing drug. All of Mark's tests came back positive for LSDs. Alice only wished she could be more concerned! Mark hadn't slept in six years. His eyes were always red, and he looked around as though he were gazing into a gaping hole. He was a wreck of a person - his soul torn apart.

Six years ago, Mark lost his lovely daughter. A rogue stabbed little Gina with a huge chunk of glass, while Mark crawled across the street trying to save her.

Mark sat in the living room waiting for his wife to step out. The Sun had set. The sky was black and orange; night was silently marauding in. The air was still. His face was blank, yet he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Mark put on a shoddy blazer, which was the best he had. He looked scruffy and exhausted as always. His face still was hopeless, and his eyes, vacant as ever.

He silently turned on the garden lights. The cake was decorated and candles were lit. She appeared before him in that same blue dress. She wore those pretty pump shoes, and her favourite suede jacket, still bloody from the stab-wounds. As she approached Mark, he could feel the ice in the wind. A burnished aura surrounded her presence, as she simply smiled at Mark and nodded in dissent. In a blink of an eye, Mark lost her. He was immersed in a mysterious hue of colours that formed a mist in the air.

The desiccated tree haunted the arid lawn; Mark sat on the wobbling bench. The dangling branches of the trees formed an ominous claw-like shadow over Mark's head. Yet again, he poured a drop of that pungent liquid on his fist.

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Disjointed Thoughts At The Break Of Dawn...

“When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past, 

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, 

And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, 

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, 

And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: 

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, 

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er 

The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, 

Which I new pay as if not paid before. 

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restored and sorrows end.”

- Shakespeare’s Sonnet XXX

Yet again, I ponder on emotions – So many emotions. Off late I've been thinking about friendship – who really is a true friend? More often than not, I can’t place faith in my own self. I feel like a stranger in my own life… As though I’m watching myself in a movie and time is just passing by. I feel so helpless. I can’t differentiate between dreams and reality. My heart yearns for what is not mine, and, my mind abstains from choice.


Loving yourself is not selfishness and being strong is an endearing quality. If someone doesn’t make an effort to understand you, it’s not unto you to speak it out. Put up a smile and move on. You deserve only smiles.


Feelings are not meant to be spoken. Feelings are meant to be felt. Feelings are never wrong or right. They just define your closeness to a person. Would you have felt a thing, if you weren’t so close?


There is no sense in belittling your feelings by always speaking about them. The more you express, the more you are taken for granted. Gather yourself. Calm down. Take a deep breath and feel your senses relax. Look yourself in the eye, and respect yourself for who you are. If you can’t respect the person you are, how do you expect the world to respect you?


Don’t waste your tears over someone who doesn’t understand why you cry. Don’t let your own feelings hurt you. No! Your heart will speak to you. Accept its premise and simply understand its implications. Just feel your feelings. Don’t complicate your life by trying to act on it.


Sometimes, inaction is the greatest action of all. The one who loves you will find a thousand unspoken words behind your silence; the ignorant will find no meaning in your endless expression and tears.


The more you seek out friendship, the harder it becomes to find. Meditate. Love yourself. Accept yourself. You’re the best friend you’ll ever have. Don’t let yourself down. There is no life without hope. May be life doesn’t turn out the way you want it. That’s really alright. Don’t let your Tomorrow recede beneath the waves of Yesterday.

Watch the Sun Rise. Feel the energy when Darkness breaks into Dawn. Fill your life with Light. Everything is luminous at the break of dawn, yet nothing is clear. Think of where you live and what you love – things that elude you. Let the realisation dawn upon you – You can love without complete understanding. Be your best friend. Let the Sun Rise into your Life!

Feelings

Sometimes, when you hear something very hurtful, there’s a physical pain you feel in your chest. It feels as though you’ve been violated.

Your world has been vandalised, and when you look around, you can literally see the good days just floating in empty space, blurring out into your tear drops.

Pain is a feeling harder to describe than love – the feeling that eats you up and throws you down and vanquishes your faculties to even act coherently.

To every person, his pain seems the greatest. Truth is very hard to accept, but it’s even harder when you not only accept the truth, but also embrace the consequences that come along.

And, it is that wretched moment, when you want to speak your heart out, however much shipwrecked you may be…

It’s unnerving when you muster up all the courage you have, to confront the one you love about how you feel.

You’re short of words…sometimes, breath! You’re choking at every thought and your head spins, but you feel you’ve finally made it. You’ve shared how you feel. The battle against tears has not been won; alas, it has just begun.

‘Painful’ isn’t even the word, to begin with. You try to be numb, but you are not. You can feel the agony in your heart – you feel a physical torture inside your head and the inflictions of those emotional wounds on your corporal being. It’s like your mind is numb, to everything but the hurting and throbbing; your head’s heavy and all you see is a glare of colours disintegrating into their natural forms – you’ve lost the capacity to distinguish between your pain and reality.

The heart aches for love, and it aches more of curiosity. Expectation is such a bitch!

It’s painful when you can’t convey how desperate and lonely you are for someone’s love and acceptance. What stings more is, when all the courage you’ve amassed, have turn into hollow words – because, they can only hear your feelings, they can’t understand.

Think, again!

12:00 pm
June 30, 2011
It’s about knowing how you feel, yet not knowing how to express it; when you feel so important, yet so
insignificant at the same time. You feel happy, like on top of the world, yet petrified as though it’s the
last moment of your life.
It’s the fringes of life that make your head spin, and it’s so ironical that joy and sorrow almost always
stand juxtaposed to one another, and mostly you can imagine posing right in the middle of them –
trembling, confused and fighting for breath!
Sometimes, you wonder which could be worse – A moment of happiness filled with tears or a life of
tears knowing it couldn’t get worse!
It’s all in the mind. It’s all as you see it. Ever wonder who conjures up these images in your head? Why
have you turned into the person you are? Why did you ever make decisions you regret? And, how
uncanny it is, because you’ve been living all your life all this time, yet you don’t know what you want
from it?!
Why is it that you run after building a house and buying a car? And how is it meaningful if you have no
love to share it? Who is your true friend? What does a well-wisher mean?
Sometimes you wonder if you could break free from all the chains of these norms and do what pleases
you and say what you feel. If only you could open your heart and cry out loud, or, dance around life a
buffoon to express your joy!
Your sorrow does not emanate from the money you earn, but from the people you hurt; more so, your
happiness does not emanate from the riches you gross up, but from the smiles of the people you love. God didn’t intend money. God intended love, and he brilliantly filled the world with it. It is unto you, to
find it, and embrace it.
The truth is, you know it all. You always know what you want, you know what you love, you know
who you are and you know how things will be!! But you’re afraid. You feel judged. And you want to
prove yourself to a bunch of people who don’t matter anyway! There is nothing about your life that
must baffle you, and there is nothing that you don’t know. It’s only love that your heart craves for. It’s
acceptance that it cries out loud for!
You could be yourself, and God has tailor-made one such person on the face of this planet, who’s
capable of loving you in countless ways, however ugly you may be – Cause we’re all very ugly people,
made of more bad than good. Yet there is one person, who is a friend, a lover, one who cares silently
and lends a hand in the hour of need – A friend who loves us without a reason; someone who’s always
on our minds, someone we can never get enough of– The one person we can love all our lives.
May be that is why they say, Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder; yet somehow they vouch that Love
is blind!