Saving Hope

This world is so full of rage. And the outer world seems to be less chaotic this time around. The imbalance might be the death of everything.  But death in a haste might is the worst possible type of ending because all you're left with is ...what if?

And when you feel so isolated in great company..what can you do? A voice within tells you to hold on. But what/who do you hold on to then and there? The great company is oblivious to your pain. Its not their pain after all. Its not their death. Its your own.

It has also to do with your scars. The ones they can't see. The one you wouldn't show. So tell me how would they see them anyway?

I wish you knew that no work, no meeting, no assignment, no project, no other soul is more important than you. Than us. Then what happens? I'm as lost as you are.

So I will try to suppress the voice within. I will work on keeping the chaos down to a minimum. My minimum is relative though. It might be your maximum and I'm sorry for that. I just know that I'd rather miss you while being with you than missing you when you're gone. Because things that bother me the most will be the things that will eventually kill me if they are not around to bother me so much. You're following the vicious circle of life here right?

Did you know that when hope becomes just a distant idea and a new rock bottom becomes your reality is when you take a ride to hell in a downward spiral? Your wounds take over the old ones. I really don't know what happens with the old ones. I'm sure there is some kind of a hand off. Something like in a shift change. Do you know what I mean? Or I guess they just get buried under the new ones... in the most incorrect ways possible.

I know Love was never the destination. I think the chess board was set up wrong from the get go. Love was supposed to be the journey we were in..together. It wasn't the ultimate goal. We are still a couple of rookies. We'll get better with time. We'll find new ways to hurt each other. We'll find hope once again. It may have taken a wrong turn and we seem to have lost it. I have atleast.

But in the mean time just hold on. Like we always said. Just hold on. This might not be over. This actually might have just begun...so for the love of God....hold on. 

Main doob raha hoon ....abhi dooba to nahin hoon

Just remember that.

Thank you.

Inferno

“Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone...the worst kind of loneliness in the world is isolation that comes from being misunderstood, it can make people lose their grasp on reality." ― Dan Brown, Inferno

And I wish you also knew this state of isolation. Sadly you don't. Or maybe that's good? But you won't ever be able to get too close. You'll always be on the periphery. I wish I could share more today.

I wish I could tell you more. Why I'm the way I'm. Why I say the things I say. And above all where all that anger and resentment comes from. I wish I could spell it out for you. The damages of the past became the builders of tomorrow's misery.

Someone else did the harm and someone else has to pay for it. How is that ever fair you asked me? And I obviously had no answer. The silence between us is not due to lack of conversation. This silence has my screams in every fold.

I wish you could hear that. I wish you knew. My reality has now become your misery.

I'm now your inferno.  

I'm extremely sorry.

Because I have a lot of unfulfilled wishes.  

Sorry about that...

I Won't Say It

Something died in me today. It was rather strange. Come to think of it they didn't diagnose me with terminal cancer. It was someone else. It was their problem. Not mine. I'm not going to die so what died in me today? Why are we so selfish when it comes to our sadness and sorrow? Atleast I'm. Believe me if you know me then you would know that I don't share my pain. I try not to. It doesn't seem right. I like this pain. I long for it. That's just me. But that's besides the point. Yes I'm selfish when it comes to tragedy.

Today was rather nostalgic. I found myself in my own imagination standing in this souvenir shop in New York city. If you know me then you must know how I love that city. I don't remember where the store is located but there is a mini Statue of Liberty outside of this store. My mother was in the next isle buying something for me. And I was in this isle looking for something for her. I don't think we bought anything from that store that day but we were there pretty much next to each other thinking of each other. She is not here today with me. And I'm not in New York city. But today I paid a visit to that beloved city but it wasn't even about the city. It was about Mom and I. She isn't here but then you can only have nostalgia or progression. I chose progression. Life chose it for me. I'm sorry for disappointing everyone.

And then there are days when I feel extremely isolated. I blame this city. Its the city of muddy waters. And in winter it dips down to -45. I blame all of it. Its easier to blame someone or something else. The point is that there are days when the sadness slowly creeps into my eyes. It worsens when no one notices it. They think I'm flying freely here. Whoever they are. I bet some of them envy me for having all this freedom. I'm sorry for disappointing them all once again because I'm not flying away here...I have in fact cut off my own wings.

My silence is my only companion here. You might call it a tragedy. The rest might label it as triumph. Don't ask as to what I call it. I might not be able to explain it. Its somewhere along the lines of longing. But I can't explain this quest. I'm sorry for disappointing you all over again.

I saw the world come crashing down today. Like I said someone found out that they were going to die. It wasn't my world that crashed and it wasn't my cancer. There is hope in every breath. Its limited therefore its limited hope. But what died in me today still remains a mystery.

And I'll let it be a mystery because you're forgetting the most important thing about me.

I don't share my pain. But I wasn't like this before. I'm sorry for the person I'm not today.

I'm really very sorry.  

The Monk Who Had It All

In that deepest despair I once knew so well

And when the spring arrived I lost my child

So I buried her on top of a deserted grave

A Monk nearby, to himself he just smiled

He could read my not so transparent eyes

Silence prevailed all around him and I

Nothing except it was his greatest lie

How he had really wished for wings to fly

How abandoned & ancient this feeling was

That dying emotion of that passion once

The door behind me had now been closed 

Separated from the memory of my loved one

Imagine those secrets the Monk must have

Sorrows & sadness hidden under that serenity

Here's my soul caught up in materialistic affairs

His is so clear with endless layers of purity

I bid my final good bye to my unborn child

The cruel God had written a destiny in a haste

The breeze might make my child feel cold 

For she is dead, a precious life gone to waste

His eyes converse, you have it wrong my dear, I say

My womb shall be empty, You won't know the pain

I've screamed my share of screams so you know

But I shall wish you well until we meet again

The peace he has, I'll never have

His eyes say adieu, that's the last call

Envy was in every drop of my existence

For he was the Monk who had it all

Could Have Been

You asked how the story was coming along. I had been working on it for months now. You wanted to know if my writer's block was over. I nodded yes. Then you asked me if I was in it as well. I said yes. Then you asked if you were in it too and I just smiled at you. You wanted to know if you were the lover. I told you I would not assign that part to anyone else except for you. You smirked because you thought love can not be assigned to anyone. Then you wanted to know more about me in the book. 

And all I know if that I could have been more. If only life had given me a chance. But you were confused because you thought I was the writer of this story. I could have given myself super powers if I wanted to. 

What you did not know all along was that this was a memoir. I always wanted it to be. This was my story and all I know now is...

That I could have been more. 

Isn't that the saddest thing that could ever happen to anyone? 

Chapter 1 - A life half lived 

and I scribble on...

For Selfish Reasons

I told you I always wondered about where people went post death. I wonder what is God's will in separating loved ones? The day I go will be the end of us. Or would it be? Would the music stop playing? Would the smell of earth post rain be the same? Will it ever stop hurting this much? You're right..I don't have the answers but I think I'm allowed to ask these questions.

But then I wonder if you'd watch the same shows. If you'd listen to the same songs. If you'd dare to open those photo albums. There is always a first time for everything. Mind you if you stop living after me then you'd miss out on the beauty of the aforementioned first times. And what about my book collection? Would you donate it to the local library?

Will you cry after accidentally sending me a text message? Will you leave me voice messages or set my plate  at the dining table? How would it feel when you'd eat alone for the first time?

Would you expose your wounds to others or would you take it all in? Mind you if you decide to let it all out then maybe that's a good thing because you wouldn't be alone. And just so you know I wouldn't be alone either.

Because you see there are enough broken hearts walking around. And just so you know the other halves of those broken hearts are just as miserable on the other side. I'm sure they are walking around incomplete as well. This is a universe of incompleteness. Something that can't be helped.

So maybe keep your eyes closed and you might be able to relive our last moments again and again. Denial works wonders. It saves us from a lot of harm at times.

But there is something I most definitely know at this point in time. I will die. You will as well. I would prefer to die first for selfish reasons. Forgive me for that if you can. But love remains. We just learn to love differently. You will learn as well. Sitting at my grave one day maybe you'll read my poems. My proses. Maybe you'll look at those albums. I most definitely know that you'll think of me. And us.

There is also one more thing I know...

Let's live for now before it all happens. Lets make the most of it. Let's not write this story backwards.

I know that now.

Nothing Else Matters

Never opened myself this way, life is ours we live it our way, all these words I don't just say
...& nothing else matters -Metallica

Sometimes it takes you a micro second to be so heartless. I have no idea as to where it all even comes from. It leaves me dazed and confused for hours and not the good kind of dazed and confused. But I get it. This is a part of that package. Let's not sit here and give it a name or a title. That's for mediocre people. They have to go ahead and give names to everything. It keeps things less complicated for em. You and I are not mediocre. We might be a complete disaster together but our disasters complete each other. I don't want to say the L word because that just might jinx it all and that would be giving this whole thing a name or a title anyway. Plus walking around half empty doesn't seem like a good option anymore.

Its sudden. I'm standing in line at the coffee shop and I get hit by a memory that's full of pain and remorse and what do I do? I just stand there and wait for my order. I don't let it get to me. Because I know you're half way across the world standing in line at a coffee shop thinking of how badly I've hurt you as well. Its all good. We owe the pain to each other.

Then I come home and ask you as to why you look so sad and you tell me its because you've hurt me. And then I tell you its not the first time you've hurt me and you steal the show with...

Its not the first time I've been this sad. 

Sigh.