Diary of Nobody -XIII-

I haven’t written in a long while but that doesn’t mean you didn’t cross my mind. You did – every single day but I managed to not rant about the pain of being in love with somebody who abandoned me because I have visitors at the moment: oh yeah, you guessed it right! It’s my Mid-Summer Exams!

Not too long ago (if my memory serves me right: May 2014), you waited on me outside the examination hall while I wrote the exam. After the clock had counted down for three hours straight, I tried to barge my way through the crowd so I didn’t have to breathe in the smell of sweat and ink anymore. I managed to squeeze through all the cracks between people after grabbing my bag and revision notes and there you were: standing outside the Charles Wilson with a warm smile and a bottle of water. Without sparing you a chance to speak, I hopped and jumped in excitement giving you a detailed account of the three hours in the examination hall. You watched me fondly and held onto my finger as if I was a kid who would get lost in the crowd. Now that I think back to that moment, I think you were not afraid of losing me in the crowd but instead you wondered about the time when you’d disappear in the same crowd leaving me deserted.

Yesterday, I didn’t want to leave the examination hall because I knew you wouldn’t be there. Although my heart hoped for a miracle but my brain kept it on a leash so I wouldn’t expect miracles. Regardless, my eyes wandered and danced in the hope of merely your sight after I had left the building. Disappointment embraced me and I began walking back to the place which was once our home.

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Today, I went through all our pictures from when we first met to when we had bid each other farewell (I am not going to babble about how cute we were together). The shimmer in your eyes and the dimple sinking deep in your chin: I was watching you on the laptop screen and you cast a spell on me all over again. With the moments we had clicked, we had sealed the time within that moment and the memories came rushing back as I moved from one photograph to the other.

After spending three hours watching us together in the photographs and video-clips, nostalgia hit me hard in the gut and left me torn apart (just a little bit). You were very fond of capturing me when I wasn’t aware that you had been clicking me or when I wasn’t posing my usual poses because you were an admirer of natural beauty. Once you said:

“You are naturally beautiful. I must have been the luckiest person on this planet to feel the beauty within you and witness it radiating on your face. I am blessed to wake up to the person who makes my life beautiful every morning. You are allowed to blush without looking away [chuckles].”

So I dressed up all pretty in your favorite emerald green lace dress and clicked away the moment. I sealed my sadness in the photographs while I smiled and cheered (without posing may be) for being fortunate enough to know somebody I could cherish for a lifetime.

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Beyond The Vision!

When I was a little girl, the world around me was like a bubble. I now think, if I would have popped my finger out of that bubble in those days, the world would have not been observed as a merry-go-round by me. A small girl who bombarded her parents with a “WHY”, “HOW” and “WHEN” frequently and who was fearless to burst the bubble and come face to face with the ruthless reality pertaining in the society; but Alas! The vindictive time, it always has a great timing! At the age of 4, this girl asked her teacher, “Ma’am, why can’t birds speak?” That day her teacher told her that every WHY in the world can not be answered and due to the undeveloped brain cells which failed to analyze the answer in the appropriate manner, that answer of the teacher was saved as a permanent file in ROM of her brain that could never be removed. Whenever, she faced a situation or a question and as soon as her brain used to prepare her for asking WHY due to the perplexity, the same stored file used to bang her head at the right moment reminding her of the teacher’s answer. She laid in her bed every night wondering how the sky is standing without pillars when no building can. She marveled how the sun shines so brightly when the moon was merely the opposite. She was bewildered when she questioned herself why the sea is so immense that she can’t see the ending spot. The perplexed questions ended every night with an exposure to the unexpected valley of dreams. Hence, that is the time when this 4 year old girl started coming out of the sealed bubble. She now wanted to be a colorful butterfly which can fly and be responsible for her very own flight.

Some of my many journals!

This girl started developing wings and the bubble was harmed every time her wings flapped at any instant. She lived in the world of her QUESTIONNAIRE. The questions, she kept to herself which were ultimately the reason for the quest to discover and explore beyond her knowledge. She wanted someone to hold up to her and answer her; she again faced hard time analyzing which medium could be the safest. Yeah, her wit clicked, why not her very own mother; but again that permanently stored answer of the teacher amplified her mystification and that is when she discovered that there exist a PAPER and a PENCIL that can be her best friend and unlike any other beings on this planet, their mouths will be forever sealed. She was amazed to discover such an innovative idea and at the age of 8, she started maintaining her very own registers. She did not want anyone to know about her thoughts regarding anything; she wanted those journals to be as personal as her body was to her. She was unaware of the fact that an eight year old doll would not be given sufficient privacy to survive and hence would be intruded more than once if the hidden registers came across the eyes of her guardians. She tried her level best to never let anybody know that she writes to release the burden off her shoulders; she carried those registers in her bag every time with an unpleasant fear of her thoughts becoming publicized.

Around the corner, this truth was not concealed for a very long time and she found her mother reading one of her private journal once she woke up from a very sound sleep. That was the first time she ever yelled at anybody. She was crying, she was blaming herself, she was regretting for choosing paper to be her best friend as it eventually showed its disloyalty. There was nothing confidential mentioned in those journals which could not be read by her mother but the very mutual thought of how untrustworthy even a non-living thing can be occupied her and this trauma didn’t end well. Her mother held her, caressed her, kissed her and embraced her collecting her entirely in her maternal arms where she sobbed for an eternity. She kept repeating the same line of how she hated herself. Within this phase, she realized one of her very good qualities that she doesn’t require an eternity to get over a mishap. Within two days, she was the same cheerful girl who lived in her own world with the same innocent heart building more question with every passing moment but now she did not have any best friend. At school, she was a quiet and shy girl who always succeeded in academics with a remarkable margin but showed no interest in any extra co-curricular activities. The time continued to pass by and taught her various lessons of life but she missed that unfaithful friend of hers – PAPER! The only thought that used to startle her was that why could she not forgive her best friend? After a year or so, she recovered and was friends with PAPER again. This time she wanted to be more aware of her mother not reading anything; she was now growing into an adolescent and the life was chasing her like she was a bone being chased by a starving dog. She continued filling sheets and sheets with her personal experiences, her daily affairs, how the world haunted her, how she wanted to be everything but not a wife (like her mother), how she wanted to explore the space and etc. The dreamy world was yet not over until 12, subsided with mature thoughts than her age-group. Even her dreamy world craved the meaning of life and the reason behind her existence. She often used to write about it when she entered into a very charming and alluring phase of any human’s life – TEENAGE!

Now this doll was 13; no more a doll indeed. She was a grown up girl who was ready to flap her wings open and explode the bubble confining her abilities. She flew swirling around the boundaries of life and exploded it with a charisma. Her teenage was abnormal or rather should I say it was normal because it was not the same boy-friends, drinks, clubs, pubs and dance floors that united her life and thrilled her but it was her escalating confidence that made her “UNIQUE” in the gatherings. Her parents were astounded themselves, she was paranormal with her brain grasping more than required for her age. She was no more a shy doll but a confident and stunning girl who could sway around with daffodils and make the universe dance on her finger tips. She turned out to be a debater where her teachers encouraged her to debate frequently to enhance her inborn skills with the weapon of experience. The paper remained her best friend throughout; though it was disloyal at times but she realized how her best friend could be someone else’s friend too. Her acquaintances called her arrogant, rude, she was blamed for her attitude when all she did was smile – her gleaming eyes smiled to their remarks. She was blessed with an enriched soul, all her job was to nourish it with plenty of resources in order to live up to what is expected of her by the world as well as Him.  

Let you soul be free like a flying bird because ETERNITY lives in there.

This girl is ordinary just like YOU. A compassionate soul living in everybody – the only difference between YOU and her is she listened and responded to her soul since the day it called out to her; she was accomplishing what she was asked for by her Almighty. This is a time to catch the right bus at the right station and listen to your blaring soul, let the questions seep your heart, get a medium to express yourself and immortal soul BUT be aware of the hazards and obstacles on your way because no accomplishment can be achieved without the audacity to try. Live every moment in a sacred way cause neither can you trust your breath nor your life – this little doll gave us the same message of how to never trust the voices you hear from your ears but trust the sole voice that you can hear from the ears of your heart and soul – the voice of Eternity. 

Betrayal (THE FINAL PART * PART IV)

Love is neither for me nor for you;
Lesson for everybody – comprehended by FEW.

My bed swallowed me in a gulp

Concealing the emotions within my heart’s pulp

Under the sheets, the rolling tears need a break

Otherwise there will be a flowing salty lake

Everything has turned to betray me except his thoughts

His memories slaughter me with the silent thrashing shots

I shut my eyes to embrace the mortal sleep

One thing more to deceive but his thoughts deep and deep

I strive to trail away from his thoughts for an instant

Defeated by an immense margin – my soul arrogant

Was the time spent with him an incredible reality or a worse nightmare?

I can sense his breathing pulse caressing my earlobe as if I still care

His splendid looks, miraculous personality, humble nature – my ultimate admiration

Was it an obsession or my admiration on biased foundation?

Was loving him intensely my substantial mistake?

Was this I deserve at the end of the day – melancholy, agony and heart ache?

The uprising question is: WHAT HE DID?

Struggled to get rid of me; leaving me to solve his remnant grid

The perception of the prince charming that enthralled me before

It lingers in my head – poison needed to seal the sore spore

He was my prince – THE ONE with whom I dreamt of walking down the aisle

The moments passed by in the shot of a bullet – I helplessly smile

The twinkle of his eye, the curve of his lips, his emphatic Adam’s apple

His vivid imagery accommodates the empty rooms of my brain as a gray-dapple

Things turned from bad to worse

Nothing left except to curse

Eventually my doom compelled my soul to give in

The devastated me doesn’t have any choice but to dump my feelings in the fatal bin

I turned pale, feeble and fragile

No more rosy cheeks; tears competent of the fast flowing Nile

Love is eternal regardless of what is cherry-picked

Love is morphine – an addiction for an addict

There is a message for you to know

Love is naïve yet a massive blow

Seek the lesson on your way

Trust broken once can’t be mended any day

Love unconditionally – no quest for the reward

Thirst for endeavor and adventure rings the heartily chord

*THE END*

Betrayal – Part I

Betrayal – Part II

Betrayal – Part III

Betrayal (Part III)

Let me cry,
Let everybody spy.

The empty house compelling me to commit a sin

The burning scars appealing hindered pain under my skin

The dagger in my hand – I desired to bleed

Thus excreting the organic fluid to feed my soul with creed

The unwavering will to slash my wrist

Eradicating the memories behind the mist

His face pressed against the walls of my brain

The smell of his body intriguing my soul again

He is yet a sweet memory – I can’t blame him

How can I forget our first kiss under the moon lit dim?

I am into pieces again – pleading myself to forget and forgive

My heart aches in the quest for our moments to commemorate and relive

His virtual appearance holding me close together

Hence I am nothing better, just an old rotting feather

His reminiscences surpassed me to hand the dagger again

“Let’s do it”, recalled my hasty brain

I was on the verge to gash my wrist for the blood to flow

Flow like a thrusting ocean to manifest what’s there to show

The stamina summoned when a thought clicked

Why such an audacious choice for my family cause of a vicious convict?

I threw the knife onto the ground

Sobbed and wept unless I heard a sound

As I heard the sound, I dashed to my room

Washed my face, managed to be in bed without a BOOM!

He ruled my thoughts persistently declaring his reign over me

We vowed to love each other forever with glee

Did he forget his commitment even before the war started?

Did he intend to make me bleed with suffocation and misery faint-hearted?

To Be Continued…

Betrayal – Part I

Betrayal – Part II

Suicide is never an ANSWER!

“But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.”

I read the very same line few days back and I felt like a winner despite of all the failures that have miserably been destroying me within and I felt proud of myself – really very proud for being steadfast and dedicated to the goals of my life. The question that rises over here is that if failure really is a misery that can compel you to invite a death call and split the threads of your breath? Who is not a FAILURE in this life – failure is an understatement; we all are WARRIORS! We struggle to achieve and if there are huddles to accomplish on the way to our destination then they are the trademark for earning experience – the only human on the planet who have no experience (in terms of life) is a new-born baby and as soon as he breathes in this world, he is open to the wide valley of experiences. From feeding to playing, from smiling to crying, from sensing to loving, from crawling to walking; all is a new experience for him. When he is learning to walk or sit, he does fall short a million times and he does cry often but all these efforts are worth it when he finally succeeds to sit or walk without an external support – that one smile of joy is worth the plenty tears he had cried throughout the miserable process of learning and that pain is worth the skill he has learned over the course of time. Unfortunately, as a baby grow physically with utmost optimism and a firm belief in trying; his mental capability grows with the blend of influences from the social circle and other things that encompasses the society where he grows up. When this baby starts kindergarten, he cries because he fears the new atmosphere and isolation from his mother punches him in his gut. When the same boy grows up to join school, he fears to make new friends and the competition to cope up with studies. With the time, many ups and downs are welcomed by life. Some are bearable and some are beyond one’s endurance capability, hence in any way human survives because they possess the brains to reframe themselves after being completely destroyed and devastated. Some are real warriors and endure pain and suffering coming their way with the determination, steadfastness and a hope to see the bright day but some lose hope and make a heartbreaking decision of “SUCIDE” – it pierced and slashed my soul while typing this word but encountering and accepting the reality is primarily imperative in order to eliminate it.

Suicide is one crucial reality of this bitter-sweet world. I am well aware of how life can be intimidating and discouraging but is “SUICIDE” a moral decision? Of course NOT! The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that each year approximately one million people die from suicide, which represents a global mortality rate of 16 people per 100,000 or one death every 40 seconds. It is predicted that by 2020 the rate of death will increase to one every 20 seconds. This is what’s happening around us and I know that it would keep increasing as it has been reported by WHO that since the last 45 years suicide rates have increased by 60% worldwide. Suicide is now among the three leading causes of death among those aged from 15 to 44 years (male and female). I have known a guy who tried to attempt suicide around three years back but his attempt failed . I met him the day before yesterday in a cocktail party and I observed a different guy talking to me. He sounded happy and ebullient and he was talking about how he would be marrying in the upcoming months. By looking at him, I wondered if he really remembered the night his mum was crying on my mum’s shoulder and I was peeking inside the operation theater where his body was being operated to work out with poison if possible. I thought back to myself silently if he remembered how long that night would have been for his mother who had turned into a widow just a month ago. I questioned myself whether he recalls his attempt and thank Almighty for giving him another chance to live the blessing he was bestowed upon with. The smile that illuminated his face and the reflection of bliss and pride in his character was evident that I can tell very easily what his answer would be if I ask him whether the decision he made three years back about ending his life was a sane decision or not. His answer would absolutely be “NO” when he had been a victim himself of the unending toil but his contentment today is a positive weapon to encounter everything with confidence and optimism.

The WHO states that mental health disorders (particularly depression and substance abuse) are associated with more than 90% of all cases of suicide. However, suicide results from many complex sociocultural factors and is more likely to occur during periods of socio-economic, family and individual crisis (e.g. loss of a loved one, unemployment, sexual orientation, difficulties with developing one’s identity, dissociation from one’s community or other social/belief group, and honor). The suicide rate astounded me when I read the WHO report further stating that 55% suicide attempts are made by adolescents to adults aged between 15 to 44 years and 45% suicide attempts are made by people aged 45 years and over. The crucially disheartening fact is that suicide is the third leading cause of death for young people aged between 15 to 24 years at which WHO states that “Youth Suicide is increasing at the greatest rate.”

Most people who commit suicide don’t want to die—they just want to stop hurting. Suicide is an attempt to escape suffering that has become unbearable. Blinded by feelings of self-loathing, hopelessness and isolation, a suicidal person can’t see any way of finding relief except through death – the only way they think they can attain peace. However despite their desire for the pain to stop, most suicidal people are deeply conflicted about ending their own lives. They wish to find an alternative to committing suicide but they just can’t see one. If a friend or family member is considering suicide, you might be afraid to bring up the subject but talking openly about suicidal thoughts and feelings can save a life. Hence, we have to aware ourselves to help people around us. One death in every 40 seconds is not a joke – we are a responsible “HUMAN” living on the planet (say NO to geographic divisions – we all are one and this world is our abode) Hence we can always endeavor on our part to stop this exercise and educate the people around us regarding “LIFE” who may in your opinion can later be the target of this lethal exercise. Therefore, I believe that we all have been through pain and suffering, our heart must have been attacked and invaded at times and our soul must have wished for an end once in a while but that doesn’t allow us to put a full-stop ourselves. Wait for the natural full-stop; at least that doesn’t announce you a “LOSER”. None of us desire an undignified end and even most of the suicidal people do not desire “DEATH” or “DARK-END”; instead they desire for the pain to stop. Make an aim to stay happy and make others happy. Reward the people around you with a smile and a compliment to make their day – your smile can be a healing therapy for a traumatized heart which can result in saving one life for every 40 seconds.

Relationship Trauma!

NOTE: Thank you so much for keeping a track to my site even when I was not posting, the stats are evident. Thank you for the shower of those beautiful mails who wanted to inquire about my NO-POSTING season, your care and love for me moved me to the core and that is how I planned on updating the blog today in spite of the busy schedule – your over-whelming love can break the barriers of the cold working schedule. I am blessed to have a bunch of sincere readers who seek my work and look up to me. Thank you once again for all the mails, they are worth million gems and I will surely be getting back to each one of them. I hope that my readers can compromise on my delayed posting though I will try to post at least once a day and if not possible then at least once in three days. The posting may be affected but I ensure that the reading hours won’t be reduced – all the blogs I follow will be read and fed with likes and comments where necessary. Thank you for the cooperation.

 

It has been three years, two months, twenty-seven days, seven hours, five minutes and thirty-seven seconds (to the date) when I met him for the first time. I was always pretty precise about our timings as it was always a treat to make him feel special with such remarkable moves that helped me look at him gaping with surprise at how perfect I was at times especially when it was concerned with him. I never intended to sound over-efficient or behave over-smartly but my target was to feed him with pleasure and happiness all at once. The stories of his past haunted him every now and then and I believed that it was my responsibility to ensure him that he was cherished and his present was much better than what he had expected of his future in the past. My efforts always wanted to pursue the desires of his heart so that he could feel the warmth and passion of love burning within me for him – his appearance may not be the factor for why was I attracted towards him but certainly his soul was primarily a key reason for my helpless condition. Despite of all my efforts, I believe I lack immensely from time to time. This feeling first bothered me when I realized that his way of expression and the incredible charm was fading – it was not my sight which has to be blamed but he really was changing. I did not have the nerve to ask him if he was not interested in continuing what we had between us – a blend of friendship that was transforming into love on my part and I was unaware of how his heart would respond to my feelings. The change in attitude is always evident and with time I saw his attitude rusting. I feared to let go of him – how would I ever feel if he would someday introduce me to the love of his life unaware of how my heart raced for him incredibly. How could he ever deny that when he called me beautiful, I blushed because there is really something happening deep down within me when he praises me. How could he not know that when we linked arms and walked together at the Christmas party of the school for the first time, I felt like a fairy-tale princess and I wanted to pause the life at that very moment to glance at him for eternity. Was he really unaware of my feelings unless I expressed myself in those three letter essential yet worthless words? How could I ever forget that moment when he said: “Darling, I was waiting for an eternity to hear it. Oh my goodness, I love you so much too”. He embraced me and I felt secured in his arms – first time ever after my daddy was gone and never held on to my finger because of his lousy second wife and her sons that comparatively seemed better to him than me and my mum. I can never compare him to my dad as I never found him a moral person but this guy; he was beyond morality for me.  Unfortunately, we always are immature and perceptive when the mind stops functioning and it is the chords of heart that tunes in to write the lyrics of our love song. He repeatedly betrayed me whenever he said that he loved me and I was such a fool that I actually believed him every time his cold gray eyes deceived me with the floral words he uttered. I have no idea what was my ranking on his list but he was the first one for me and the last one too (This thought was shaken when he left me all on my own at the eleventh hour)

 

Doubtlessly, he treated me exceptionally. He lived in the hostel of the campus as his home was situated in some other city but he would always walk me to my home which was a 15 minutes walk from the school campus. He would often slip his arm around my waist to hold me against him firmly or would hold my hand tracing my fingers gently on our way to home. Everything he did was charismatic or may be I was new to flirting even at the age of 19. We went to the cinema a couple of times together and all he did was look at me; I would punch his well-built chest muscles as I was shy but he used to sit there looking at me the entire time and laugh out loud when I used to sob gently (on an emotional scene) with my tears fluttering on my cheeks and then he would gently press his pinky finger against my cheeks to wipe away the tears. When we used to head out of the cinema, he always babbled about my red rosy cheeks – rosy was the word he used for my cheeks. He knew that if I would laugh or cry I will turn red like a tomato within a second and this was one reason he used to call me “Rose” so that he can tease me with his enthralling smile and lure me with his appealing flirtiest voice. He always encouraged my natural looks – he thought ”NO-MAKEUP”  made me stand above all the girls in our school and he repetitively mentioned how he loved me for my simplicity. His gentle kisses on my forehead when he would cup my face in his hands always enhanced my confidence and strengthened my love for him. The first time he ever kissed me on my lips was stupendous – for a moment I thought life was at a standstill as if I was drawn away from this world to the Heavens and I enjoyed a flight with angels. It was quick but this was the first time I could smell his Tony & Guy gel cream, his strong after shave and the strawberry cologne that enchanted me to remain like this forever. He was a gentleman – I realized it when he plunged his gray eyes into my chocolate brown and uttered the three magical words for the last time. Are you wondering where did he go? I don’t know myself. After our graduation, he ensured me that we would marry and he would do all he can to make me meet his parents. One day after two months he called on my landline – I ripped open my heart and started screaming at him over the receiver. I cursed him for being out of contact, for switching off his cell phone and simultaneously I cursed myself for not taking his home address, if that could have been one way to be in contact through postal cards and letters! After listening to me calmly, he uttered in the cold voice (an anonymous voice I was unaware of), “We can not work out. I think we should part our ways”. The receiver dropped from my hand and I was shaken from head to toe. I didn’t have the strength to uplift myself and I fell onto the ground when my toe hit the corner of the table and my toe-nail was scraped from the corner oozing the red liquid that was none of my concern anymore – my heart was bleeding much more than what drenched the bottom of my trousers and spilled on the floor. I got up and dug myself in bed – not just for one day but for many days that continued for several months but my mum’s patience always fed me with the stamina to bear the hardships coming my way. I tried calling him twice on the same number from where he had called but it was a local phone booth number in Edinburgh. He was sly to never leave a trace of him in my life and vanish like a shooting star.

 

A story like this or multiple stories with various differences are being heard every day by us or one of our colleagues. What do we do after hearing them? Feel pity for them?? The root of the problem in anyway does not focus on the betrayal with girls specifically but it focuses on the “STRATEGY OF A RELATIONSHIP” – there could be a guy in this girl’s place too cursing the turmoil of the past. Previously, I have been going through various blogs where girls and guys write their heart out. They believe that writing can help them with the speedy recovery; well doubtlessly this is a good idea but there are certain remedies that can help heal the open wounds or instead help you be aware of the relationships before hand.

 

There are five BEWARES I will list under their respective headings to counter once you think that the relationship you desire should be serious:

FREEDOM GRANTED:

Once you are committed, the possessiveness should be under control. Let the other person breathe at least. Life and love is not about tying your loved ones instead the more you allow freedom the more trust is promoted within a relationship. Suspicion should be kept aside as this is one tool that should never be used throughout the life time.

 

SOCIAL CIRCLE IS NECESSARY:

There are majority of the love cases where they give up their healthy social life because the charm of each other’s arms is much more thrilling than partying out with friends on a beach party. This idea may not sound lame but once the relationship does not turn out to be long-termed, life is no less than a hell when you do not have friends around to support you. However, friends and a lover should have their respective places and the time should be accordingly divided.

ACADEMICS:

For students and teenagers who willingly involve themselves in love mantras during their studying years is not at all a good idea. There is an age and time period for everything. This love factor encourages you to compromise on the part of your academics which as a result affects your grades; hence even if a relationship is serious in your career years, make sure you have bound circle set around you or a time table to help you plan out everything requiring your immediate attention.

LOVE IS NOT LIFE:

People who can not recover over a relationship or goes in a certain painful trauma are usually the ones who are new to the world of “LOVE”. Either it may be the first time they have been serious regarding a relationship or it must have been their first long-termed relationship. Whatever the reason may be, make sure life and love are two separate key words. Love happens in LIFE. Therefore, life is a primary word and it should be lived and cherished with or without love from a lover. After all, love encounters are a part of the life time but life itself is a one-go blessing!

INVOLVE PARENTS:

Once you think that the relationship is pretty serious, involve your parents. If one side is reluctant to involve parents, make sure you get through the reason and if there is no reason then obviously there is a sour smell of your rotting relationship. Therefore, if both are willing to involve parents, this is a very good sign for a healthy relationship. The meeting of your loved one with your parents would help you take an advice from them who usually are more mature, practical and experienced regarding these matters.

REMEDIES IF YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN DITCHED

A HEALING PEN:

Write your heart out on a piece of paper and burn the paper right in front of you or shred it into pieces. No need to keep a record of what you write and if you desire to keep a record or maintain a diary, it is ultimately as per on your own wishes. The key point is jotting down the wounds to let them heal. Once your heart is lightened from the burden of sorrow, you are good to go!

HANGING OUT:

After a break up, no one desires to expose themselves to the world of the embarrassment or rather they hate the sunshine as they believe the light of hope in their lives had vanished. In such a condition, compelling one’s self to go out and cherish nature helps in a million ways. Your mind wanders around the circumstances but nature engages your attention quite well. Even if friends are around they can be a pretty good treat too. Therefore, this compelling may sound like forcing one’s self but at the end of the day it helps you to heal fast.

THANKING THE ALMIGHTY:

In such circumstances when we are suffering of sorrow and misery, all we are capable of is cursing God. This lame act consequently reminds me of how we can stop thanking Him for ending the unpleasant trauma at an early stage and after all He is the Creator – He would never take a bad decision for us. The trust and faith in Him always is a positive vibe to continue with life cheerfully.

CRYING DOES HELP:

At times, all we would desire is to cry until our tears are dry. Do as per the desires of your heart. Cry as much as you want. It helps in reducing the burden off your heart. At the end either you would fall asleep or feel better than what you felt before. Crying your heart out is a simple yet a great remedy.

DIVERT YOUR ATTENTION:

Indulge yourself in various activities to pursue your personal interest so you are not left with the long hours thinking about the turmoil of the past. Enroll yourself to learn new interesting things, read books, paint on the canvas, make handicrafts, spend your time walking along the sea shore, doing work out and etc. In short, treat yourself with a tough routine which will help you to forget about the past readily and your attention will be diverted towards various other things of your interest.

YOGA & MEDITATION:

Yoga and mediation is a ready-made remedy. Once you know yoga, you have a good option to recover with the lightening speed and if not then enroll yourself for the yoga classes and the difference can be felt instantaneously. Yoga and meditation helps you to attain peace of mind by soothing your heart pulse and brain nerves. This automatically drives you out of the horrid trauma that is the unpleasant present of the destiny for an amusing life experiences.

LEARN THE LESSON:

Feeling betrayed by a loved one is painful. Feeling that your trust and relationship were not valued by the other person is difficult to bear but learn the lesson on your way. Betrayal teaches you not to idolize the external sources. Learn the lesson of forgiveness.  After all, life is the name of “Moving On”!

Layman as a Philosopher!

There lives a philosopher in every being on this planet but it merely depends on your skills to scratch the surface of your heart to mingle with the brain nerves in order to attain that very stern expression on your face with millions of lines across your jawbones, forehead, cheekbones presenting you like a true Zombie; hence before you ever think of evolving yourself into a philosopher from inside, you need a complete MAKEOVER!!

 

The very renown scientists and Philosophers.

On the serious note, I usually wonder how numerous scientists have evolved themselves into philosophers in the later stages of their life when they were done with their part in the world of science. Not only scientists hit this very complicated list of wise men but lovers when get hysterical about their love-life and entwining emotions  evolve into philosophers too. Authors, poets, actors, writers and etc are running at the same pace to bind with a fore mentioned people; hence one who is legendary can continue to bang on with his reputation by giving space to the concealed philosopher buried somewhere deep down within his framed personality. Albert Einstein and Newton did a great job in influencing world partly as philosophers too.

 

The turning edge to the context is that layman is not far behind in this race of “WHO WILL BE AN ULTIMATE PHILOSPHER?” They have a panel of experiences to enrich their soul with the nourishment required to reciprocate the experiences into words that helps them to achieve admiration and honor within a matter of few seconds with the exposure to cyber world and numerous social circles throughout the internet web.

 

Let’s do an exercise. Ignore the literal meaning of “PHILOSOPHY” itself and don’t ask yourself WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY? instead ask yourself WHAT STRATEGY COMPOSES A PHILOSPHER IN EVERY HUMAN BEING? I want to make a mental note over here that we are not talking about Philosophy as a subject but as the rare side of human where he develops the instincts to draw a margin between his interests and responsibilities; hence the composure of a personality to understand and interpret the mechanism of life is the captivating chronicle of concealed philosopher in every human being.

 

Life is all about ups and downs; LEARN from it

Happiness and sorrow have an equal contribution in our life-time. Thus, neither a person can whine for the life span shedding tears and mourning over the account of his misfortune nor can he bloom like a flower for an eternity cradling bliss in his arms like his personal possession. Hence, life is a blend of colors where the darker tones demonstrates grief and sorrow and the brighter tones signifies happiness and delight. This JUST systematic approach of Almighty can be justified by an example involving Mother Nature.  I interpret day as the time when Nature initiates its journey seeking the highest point – the maximum level that is achieved (everyday) by illuminating the world partly (while rest of the world is immersed in darkness). When the maximum level is achieved, the Nature begins its journey to seek the lowest point – the minimum level when it can hide its one fire ball behind horizon and let the other white ball illuminate the sky with the acquaintanceship of sparkling stars. There is a theory behind it; if one tends to comprehend it. Almighty exhibits a rule of REALITY everyday that is Success(bliss) and Downfall(sorrow) are coherent. If success is your destiny today then expect the downfall as your next pre-destined step; hence nobody can claim their life to be “PERFECT”.

 

Life is challenging but NEVER GIVE UP

Happiness makes a man proud of his gestures and actions therefore when hardships hit his shore and thrashes him with the surprise of an examination from Almighty, the same bigheaded man regrets and complains for he never expects the era of happiness wounded by the incoming of his spiritual examination. The patient beings on this planet who centrally believe in HOPE always have a way out – the hope is another terminology for “PHILOSOPHY”. When a man encourages himself under the flag of HOPE mingling his wisdom with the temperament to counter the challenges and examine his will-power, self-determination and spiritual strength, it is the very exact time when he gives birth to the philosopher in himself. The wide range of experiences flavored with his innovations to bear with the given examination is a challenge in itself and his efforts to clear the examination magnificently helps him with his spiritual growth. When he shares the profound meaning of LIFE accompanied by the voice of his SOUL – the thoughts are transformed into a “LAYMAN’S PHILOSOPHY”.

Escape (Part II)

A lovely new morning,
Strengthening life with another warning.

Cara woke up to the sound of the chirping birds and stretched in her bed with a gleaming smile as the unpleasant confrontation of the past night faded in the rooms of her brain. She climbed out of her bed wrapping the warm quilt around her and walked to the window where she removed the curtains to expose herself to the sunlight of the bright new day. Her Sunday morning was usually late but today was different. If one phase of her brain thought about Jon and their young romance leading to an official relationship in future then the other phase of her brain pondered over the survival of her dad after her. She agreed that he was unpredictable but she never blamed him for his behavior. She knew what it would feel to lose someone who is precious to the soul and heart but all this time she failed to analyze that why couldn’t her dad realize that it was not solely him who had lost a beloved wife but she had lost a MOTHER as well – a woman who contained her for nine months yet she knew nothing about her. Mr. Laurengram never felt any better discussing his late wife; he only preferred to drink and drink in grief – grief that Cara believed would never let go of him until the jaws of death would terminate the thread of his breath.

 

Cara’s silent thoughts were vanished in the air when her ringing cell phone scared her to death. She threw back the quilt wrapped around her in a jerk and dashed to her dressing to grab her cell phone and answered the call breathlessly.

“Cara, were you working out at 8 in the morning? I mean, are you okay?” Jon rushed himself with his words like an express on the station.

“Uh.. Well, why are you speaking as if you  are living the last minute of your life?” humorously remarked Cara

“When will you stop being naughty Cara?”

”Never! Do I complain when you are silly to heights?”

”My babe is making me blush eh?” giggled Jon to tease her over and over.

“How is mommy? Was she worried the last night?” Cara asked anxiously. She had met Jon’s mum more than thrice and she saw the reflection of her own mum in that beautiful lady’s embodiment.

“Mum is good, anyway, she was worried but she knew to every beat that I was with YOU”, Jon teases Cara again with his chuckles over the phone.

“Whatever! Are you coming over for the Spring Party at Gayle’s place in the evening?”

“Cara, lets skip it and go for the dinner sweetheart, what do you say?”

“Jon, I have taken enough of you for the morning. See you at the party, let me check dad for now” Cara explained simply for Jon to stop teasing her.

“Okay babe, it is my turn to serve mum so I got to go too but aren’t you forgetting SOMETHING?”

”I love you Jon”, Cara was blushing even though they were not confronting each other.

“I love you too darling”, Jon knew it came from the heart – the core of his heart.

 

They ended the call and busied themselves in their routine. Cara went downstairs and knew that her dad was fast asleep. She brewed coffee and boiled few eggs for the breakfast. She inserted two slices of bread in the toaster at a time and toasted few slices. She collected the news paper from the porch and went through the headlines while laying the table for breakfast. She preferred milky coffee while black coffee was a necessity for his dad to wipe away the recurring headache after the night which had been spent drinking. He avoided drinking on the week days but weekend served him exquisite timings to drink and mourn. Cara knocked her dad’s room few times but no response assured her of his unconsciousness and she opened the door gently and saw her dad lying on the sofa sleeping sound. The last night was invigorated in her brain and her eyes suddenly were filed with tears. She looked precisely like her dad. The same blue eyes her mother has fallen in love with were the secret to her beauty. These blue eyes were deeper in meaning – the legacy of her life. She sat across the sofa brushing her dad’s brunette hair through her slender fingers and sobbing over his body as if he was already dead. After few minutes, her dad moved and then within few seconds he was squinting to the flashing sunlight illuminating the room through the white curtains.

“Cara, umm.. You here? Baby, Is everything okay?” his hesitation was evident that he might not remember accurately what he did last night but the fragments to the incident were still stored in the hippocampus of his brain.

“Oh daddy, I thought you were too tired so just brought the black coffee couple of minutes ago”, Cara tried her best to sound normal.

There was a pin drop silence. Mr. Laurengram was too busy fighting with the annoying headache that he was unable to see the fresh tears drying out on the pink cheeks of his little doll. He had complimented Cara for the black coffee and was headed to the breakfast table by Cara.

“Oh my goodness, you did this all? When did you wake up or should I ask did you sleep?” he uttered with amazement. Cara smiled and chose to stay silent for that moment. Mr. Laurengram was hungry, he had skipped the meal last night but Cara’s appetite had died already, she played with the fork in her plate cutting the egg in to pieces until he realized her little doll’s lost figure and snapped his fingers before her focused eyes.

 

“Are you in the same world in which I am eating like a beggar hungry for days?” he remarked to lighten the atmosphere.

“Daddy, I am not feeling hungry. I had coffee when I woke up so not feeling like eating.”

“Do you have any plans for the evening?” he asked her politely.

“Oh yeah, a college mate has arranged a Spring Party for the evening. Anything up with you?”

“Yeah, I will drop you by and leave for my business deal. I have a meeting this evening.”

 

The silence again shut their conversation and Mr. Laurengram began leafing the newspaper while she moved upstairs to avoid the confrontation with her dad. He was persistently reminding her of the last night when she did not want to think about it. She heard her dad calling her and she ran downstairs to hear what he had to say.

 “I am sorry”, he said uncertainly.

“Umm.. It’s okay.” Cara tried to resist back her tears. Her dad was not looking at her; she knew he was embarrassed to look into her eyes. The physical pain meant nothing to this young girl but her smashed emotions feared her if she would start hating her dad one day.

 “I know I am wrong. I know I say SORRY always and I hurt you all the time but …” he was interrupted by Cara’s gentle voice.

“Daddy, I said Okay. You don’t have to worry” her tears pierced the white flesh surrounding her sea-blue eyes balls and they spilled drop by drop wetting her face.

“Don’t cry please, that makes me feel guilty”, his voice was stern as usual and though he had pinned his eyes in the newspaper and had not looked up for even a single second yet he knew Cara better than anybody else that he could tell that she was crying without even looking at her.

“I am not crying Dad” she tried to be stern and stiff as him but the outburst of her cry made her run upstairs and dump herself facedown in bed trying to suppress her voice by tugging a pillow underneath her mouth. She cried and cried until her eyes surrendered and had insufficient water to let it out, her mouth and eyes both were dried for it had been an hour since she was crying to shrug the burden off his shoulders.

 

Crying endlessly in bed,
Mourning over the blood-shed.

She got up when it was half past noon. She arranged her closet deciding what to wear for the party the following evening. She messaged Jon to which there was no reply which indicated her that he was busy with his mum and hence she laid in her bed falling for the sleep. She woke up after few hours and before going to bathe she planned on sneaking downstairs to check up on her dad. The hall was empty but the kitchen was clean, her father was doubtlessly the most organized man she knew on the planet. She peeked in his room which was already arranged and tidy. She ran all the way to the porch and there was no car in the driveway, she knew where her dad was. She regretted crying in front of him; she was certain that he must be in the golf club playing golf on his own – the only thing he thought he could do anytime. She rang her dad though she knew he would not receive her call; he felt guilty beyond explanation but she knew he would turn into same creature once again when the memories of her mother would haunt him – this made her hate her mother at times.

Cara was dressed in a multicolor short dress and the bright colors complemented her fair-toned body. Her simplicity was her utmost beauty; she applied mascara to define her long thick eye lashes and softened her lips by applying a cucumber lip balm further defining her thin lips with the Etude glittery gloss to give a party touch to her appearance. She awaited her dad but there were no signs of his arrival; she called him over and over again but he wasn’t responding to her calls and this was not a good signal by any means. Therefore, pushing all the pessimistic thoughts aside, she called Jon to pick her when he would be heading for the party. Within a couple of minutes Jon was on her doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a present.

“Present! Is there anything special?” exclaimed Cara with amazement and excitement blended all together.

“Well, you can keep the bouquet but you are not opening the present until I say so”, Jon smiled softly to her gleaming blue eyes.

Cara placed the flowers in a vase kept on the table beside stair case and locked the door while messaged her dad that she had waited long and when he had not responded to any of her calls, she had proceeded to the party with Jon. Cara looked at the gentleman precisely in the driver seat and locked her eyes on his innocent face. Cara had always found Jon’s hazel eyes soothing and intoxicating concurrently. Jon was wearing a lime-yellow t-shirt along with white pants. He didn’t look funky which is what the party demanded but decent as always. Cara knew every guy would be dressed fancily at the party but she was proud to be Jon’s girl; after all his dressing code had a taste which was beyond comparison.

 

I love you,
Claims the air that blew.

“I know I am looking SEXY but what are you staring eh?” Jon harassed her with a wink while slipping a finger of his right hand which is enclosed around the hand-gear to touch hers and there she smiled – the smile that always cheered him up and brought pleasure to his heart and soul.

“Oh Mr. Smarty Pants, you may be genius and nerdy but SEXY?? You are nothing close to Hugh Jackman” Cara taunted him back with a playful note in her voice to annoy him.

“Cara! I am no Hugh Jackman because I am Jon, Jon Stanley!” exclaimed Jon.

“Look, now who is getting pissed off huh? Possessive!! Possessive!!” Cara continued teasing him while he played with her fingers and cuddled around her at times when the traffic signal blinked red. 

After half an hour drive, they both were at Gayle’s place hand in hand.

“Cara! Jon! Wow! Great to see you guys together here”, an excited voice made them turn their backs to the addresser.

“Gayle! What a party, bro”, cried Jon with excitement as they both hugged each other followed by a hi-five. Cara shook her hand with Gayle who often seemed brainless to her.

Gayle was a rich brat and a very good friend of Jon. Cara knew him through Jon; though three of them studied together in the first year of Stanford University yet Cara hardly knew anybody whereas Jon was as social as his witty brain allowed him to help every individual in the college. Gayle wore a printed hot-pink t-shirt and multicolor long shorts which made him look no less than a joker. After a brief conversation of Jon and Gayle; Cara was lead to a corner by Jon where they got seated and conversed for an eternity. Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by Cara’s ringing cell phone and she was not certain to attend the call or not as there was an unknown number flashing on the screen. She ignored the call thrice and ultimately when Jon convinced her to receive the call, she agreed reluctantly for the fourth time.

 

“This is Polly from Stanford Hospital. Can I have a word with Miss Cara Laurengram?” an adenoidal flat voice from the other end cracked through the earphone.

“Yeah, Cara speaking”, she hesitantly answered.

“Your father had a severe car accident. We want you in the hospital in an immediate hour to carry out the formalities”, the flat voice was penetrating at once or it might be Cara’s ears.

 

A misery over a heart-felt loss,
Praying with my hand tracing the cross.

The phone tripped from Cara’s sweaty hands with her bulging eyes forming tears that trickled down her cheeks within no time and she hadn’t even the faintest idea how Jon dumped her in the passenger seat and drove all the way to the heart of the city where Stanford hospital was situated.