Misery

Misery loves company which is why I never want to leave her alone. Do I wish for extreme events just so I can feel something… because I feel numb most of the time… everyone tells me this is all there is to life… but there must be more… should there not be? New clothes give you happiness for 30 minutes, max a day… where do buy the every lasting happiness… money does not buy happiness, nothing else does as well… so is it just a concept that you are supposed to chase until you realise that all of this is just a flickering light… whatever brightness you can get take it… read a book or thread a needle… or… or do whatever… until the light extinguishes… some days it seems like you are waiting for it… so that you do not have to do just do something… or keep wishing for extreme events just so you can feel something…

8-hour sleep

If everyone keeps on sleeping then morning will not arrive. Maybe the sun will rise later and I can get 8 hours of sleep. Or 7 or 9. Whichever will make me feel like I have slept enough. The head hits the pillow and the brain hits activity mode. Let us think about everything but not have the bandwidth to read a book, a letter and article. It was easier when you had a crush on someone and you can spend at least an hour imagining scenarios in your head. Well what about now then? What about it? How do we make it easy for me to sleep at night and wake up at a decent time so that I can see some light hours, get some space for myself. Clear my head. Walk a little. Stretch out that neck. Give the eyes a rest. Walk a little more. You are trying to do too many things. Am I? Is this not a normal want, to want to live a little and not just be a “cog in the wheel”. If everyone thought like that it would be easy you know. The problem starts when everyone wants to do what has been done forever and you know it has not yielded results the way it is supposed to. When you talk like that I worry whether you think everyone is smart or everyone is a fool. Both are dangerous options. I don’t want to think about other people. I just want to go to a beautiful place and cry. Sit where there is lots of green and lots of blue, where the air smells and the heart seems full – in a good way. Why is this so hard to find, so unreasonable to expect. If everyone thought like that it would be easy you know. If everyone keeps on sleeping, then morning will not arrive. Maybe then you will get 8 hours of sleep.

Oyster.

I always end up sounding like a half-baked philosopher asking the meaning of life. It is not that I keep repeating what is the point of all this, which I do, I also wonder how everyone else is not collapsing into themselves over the same question all the time. What is it that is making all of us collectively decide to get up and go about our day when none of us really understand what the hell are we doing and what are we supposed to do and for how long? Then I think that maybe people who do not ask these questions are the ones that actually make a difference and not the ones who sit around all day staring at the pile of laundry that you promised you would do on your off day but have only added to it.

I wonder what are the things that I am denying myself? What are these boundaries I have set for myself, when I do not want to believe in boundaries. We can do whatever, we are be whatever, but can we? No we cannot because we were taught in schools that good girls behave. But, I am not a good girl, I never was. Never by their definition. Yet, you always wanted to be? Do you want to be a “non-conformist” because you chose it or are you actually a hypocrite who wanted to be part of the closeted world but was never let it. Wouldn’t life be better then? You think as you scroll through the instagram feed of the girl, who did everything opposite to you, and is just “so cringe”, but is she happy, isn’t she. Ignorance is bliss, truly. Look at you calling her ignorant when you yourself mixed the names of two most prominent legal cases fought in this country while editing a copy. You are not a good writer, that you knew, but also not a good editor, this is new knowledge. If someone had not seen it, it would have gone in print. But, this is a new job. I am still learning. Yesterday, I completed a month. But, you have been working for six years now, haven’t you been? I don’t think so they were expecting you to be in training so long. But, why not? It’s new, the culture, the atmosphere, the writing style. So, are you saying that they are right in assuming that you are not good enough and all of it was just stroke of luck. Oh my god, I finally understand those movies in which the small town girl who goes to the big city and cannot seem to make it work. Am I that girl? I am that girl. Didn’t I move here for better prospects, better life? What are these prospects when you are always doubting yourself. Maybe here you are forced to look in the mirror and understand that you were never really smart. Oh god Delhi has once again shown you that you are only good in a small town in a small pool. The more people there are, the more behind you are. All the pretending you did to prove that you are the best and whatever else was washed away in the first rain. So now what do I do? I sit alone in my big room like I did in Bhopal and stare at the walls? At least there I chose the colour of the paint. Here everything is borrowed. There it was mine, the sadness, the delusion the false sense of security. Here, the sadness is thrust upon me, the loneliness emphasized on me. Look at the city with a population in crores and still here you are alone, you and the sound of your keyboard. I mean I have friends, but for how long, it tells you with every dust storm. Okay then. What else can I do? I do not know what else to do. If I did, I would do. How do things come naturally to everyone but me? What is this next step in life that everyone is taking. I don’t only want to limit this to romantic relationships, but yes also to romantic relationships. All my life I have denied myself this as well. It is not a priority, I tell myself. But, isn’t that what everyone is supposed to do after a point. Find someone you can text when you are waiting for the next thing to happen in your day. Who is there for you in those interstices? My friends are. But, they do and should have a life of their own. I do not want to impose on them. What do we owe to each other? Where is the limit? Again. What is the point of all this?

It was my idea

Always the editor, never the writer.

Stand behind someone’s words and take credit, Oh I thought of putting the on instead of of — it makes all the difference in the sentence structure. You see they put the heart and I put the soul, you lie to them so that you can believe some of it.

Your soul has been missing since forever now, and you question whether you really have it. It is as exhausting as trying to answer every question with a thesis on morality and ethical philosophy. Or to repeat what you have studied once on free will and the myth of moral responsibility. Do you like Nietzsche because you made the choice, or is it because it was the most readily available podcast and you could not read anything anymore? Are you basing your personality based on a podcast? But, are you really? Because you never really talk about it. You always say you wanna save your words for someone who wants to listen. You have been collecting things you wanna dazzle someone with. Except you never find anyone willing to listen. By the time someone does attempt, you would have forgotten all this, and much more.

You do not wanna waste your words on ‘fools’ you say except it is just that you do not want to appear a fool. Do you remember the time you wanted to defend your point of view? You had read up on the subject just yesterday, but you forgot. You went through the long route. Attacking, attacking, defending a little, talking like them is easier… because it is easier to make no sense than to make more sense.

If you had given me time I would have prepared a presentation. I would have delivered an opening statement with references and cross references. I would have shown you the trend using data from multiple sources. I would have dazzled you, except I did not. I could not. I will never maybe.

Maybe I will only stand behind someone’s words and take credit.

You know because, it was my idea to put the on instead of of.

I love you like a love song

Looking for love you get so blind that you forget to see the bundle lying at your feet. Or are you overanalyzing and oversimplifying? Are you the naïve little girl that gets seduced by words. Is it sadness, or is it your comfort zone?

Graduation goggles are real thing, because everything is a little more pink than you remember it to be. Last month you were crying how you cannot survive a minute here, but now you are ready to pick up all the pieces and glue them together by hand in the dimly-lit corridor you have been waiting all this while. One day you will feel courageous enough to open one of the doors. “Grab any opportunity with both hands” you have been told. Now that you are at the edge of the opportunity, you do not want to disappoint — them, yourself and the opportunity.

You are scared all the others will laugh at you, ask you how could you spend so many hours standing in that corridor. They do not know a while ago you were outside the building. The corridor gave you a space, a place to rest your feet, to steady your ground, to move ahead without any distraction, to move straight ahead, albeit a narrow path. You feel it in you now, the hesitancy. The place meant to be for transit has become a home.

You always remember being hesitant. Doing nothing is better than making a mistake, yes? Yes. So let us all sit together and sing songs, except all of you want to leave. Not me, not me please. Let’s lock ourselves here forever. Why can’t we? Why is no one listening? Why?

Why?

You don’t know so you tell yourself, you can move ahead. But how far ahead do we have to go. Forever ahead. Life is a grind, life is a journey, life is a routine, life’s what you make it (so let’s make it rock), life’s life, life life life. You are tired of not making decisions, of making decisions and sticking to them. Is every decision a bad decision, or everything you do makes anything normal/good a bad decision. Decision, decision, decision.

You want to grow up — really and not just use this statement as an interjection.

You want to grow up, so that you can stop your heart from getting tangled up with everything.

Your people pleasing personality cannot stand upsetting authority, you take everything at the face value, you get too attached and then too scared.

Be practical, be practical, be adult and not cry in front of your colleagues, do not think that if you do not help xyz work will not happen. World will move on, people will live and laugh, someone else will cut the cake, someone else will take the photo, someone else will do the things that are supposed to be done, everyone else will move on, except you — you will live with the heavy heart that no one cares for.

The heavy heart that is weighing you down figuratively and also literally it seems because look at your weight. You could not even manage that, how can you manage anything else. This heavy heart, this heavy heart makes everything hurt. You know why, because you are a fool. No one ‘loves’ like that. You are not even loving — you are just protecting. Latching onto any appearance of ‘good choice’ when it is just you burying your head in sand.

Whatever haps, haps, you can say it all you want, but you have to believe. Whatever happens, happens. You have you and your two feet and two hand and one heavy heavy heart and all the beautiful clothes and pretty jewelery. Give them a chance.

Okay. Maybe.

Sorry to all and everyone and sorry to me.

Okay.

Sliver

Holding on to hope is not for the faint-hearted.

It is similar to thinking your phone screen will not break after falling from the terrace, because you have the hardback flip cover.

Or expecting your 7-hr delayed train to cover the distance in record duration and make you reach your destination in good time.

Or dreaming that the 2-month of binge eating will do nothing to your 2-year trained athletic body/weight.

You can compare it to feeling like your family would never need to go to the hospital because we are the healthiest family in the world (touchwood).

Or to expect that your office will be only one that doesn’t call everyone back to office.

Or to think that everyone is waiting for you & not moving forward with ‘life’ & playing the roles they are supposed to.

It is similar to thinking everyone will be honest with their feelings and there would be
no miscommunication.

Similar to fighting everyday with your brain and the endless possibilities of pain it lists to you.

It is like trying to balance realism, cynicism and pessimism.

It’s like trying to live.

I want to say something stupid

I want to say something stupid.

Go ahead.

I feel like we were rays of light running parallelly until a convex lens deflected us — forcing us to move in different directions; diverging us so that we can never meet again. Ever. Even though for quite some time it felt like we had the same destination.

It is not stupid.

Aaah. Thanks for saying this. I have another stupid thing I want to say.

Go ahead.

I feel like you loved me like one loves a new favourite song. You want to hear it over and over again until one day you just cannot. I know someday, many years from now, your thoughts will stumble upon me again. You will playback our memories, amazed at how you still remember all the lyrics even though it has been a while. But then you will tuck me back again in that folder of your brain, where all the other favourites lie.

It is not stupid.

Then I think you can listen to one more stupid thing.

Always.

I think I mistook coincidences for kismet. Can you tell me how many coincidences are coincidences? How many of them are a product of reading, misreading or manufacturing signs? I have wished on weather, alphabets, numbers, colours and everything in between. Why was I the only one who emerged out of this looking like a fool? Or did you too?

This is also not stupid.

You are only saying this because I have never really said all this to you aloud.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Anchor

I sit here.
Again.
On the precipice of collapse.
Again.
Waiting to build myself back up.
Again.
Seeking an anchor.
Always.

Lights

Do you remember the Akbar-Birbal story?

A man stood outside in the chilly night, for there was promise of gold when the sun came up. They asked him how did you manage? He said, I looked at that tiny flickering light on the house at the top of the hill. It gave me might.

I feel like the man standing in the dead of a cold cold night, waiting for my prize. The dawn is yet to break, and the flickering light is dying.

You Couldn’t Keep It In

We took a breath together. We froze in time. For two years. All of us together.

We were forced into cages. You were forced. I wanted to.

It was necessary for me to be in a cage to feel human again.

I had  built a cage for myself 10 years ago. I lived there for 10 years watching everyone, do the things I wish I could.

But then, we took a breath together. We froze in time. For two years. All of us together.

We were all in cages.

You entered my world.

You and I looked at each other in the mornings.

We laughed with each other in the evening.

I grew my hair, heart and appetite.

I wrapped myself in new things and sat in my cage. Not sad.

You looked at me in my newness and smiled at me.

Or I thought so. I felt satisfied.

If you and I could look at each other in the mornings and we could laugh with each other in the evenings, we will survive.

We were enough.

Everyone agreed.

But you couldn’t keep yourself in.

You decided to break free.

Step out again.

I did not understand why.

Time waits for no one, but it waited for us for two seconds.

If you held in longer, it could have waited for longer.

I cried.

I told myself you will understand again why being in a cage is easier. There is no regret of yesterday and no promise of tomorrow. You are on a ship with the endless ocean in front of you. You sit and watch the sun chase away the stars every day.

What more do you want?

If you and I can look at each other in the mornings and we could laugh with each other in the evenings, we will survive

I told you, “We were enough. We were enough. We were enough.”

You left.