Diary of Nobody -XIV-

“Sup”, they ask.

You must be aware that youth nowadays like to shorten everything for the sake of some apparent swag or for some ridiculous cool-effect. I struggle to be a part of this age where appearances need to be dope and emotions stand no hope — where the soul is ruthlessly starved to feed the goddamn ego.

Is there any way we can return to our childhood? I don’t want to fit in this world without you. It might seem like an absurd thought at the very first instance but I feel like I have lost the soul I thought I could rock and jam with. My soul hasn’t been fed for a while and the sense of emotional numbness invades my sanity. Netflix keeps me company now, sometimes it is family but where exactly are you? Weren’t you supposed to be my guardian angel and protect me from the forces of evil? I was told love has no boundaries only to realize for myself that love is all about boundaries.

I am healing. I am trying. I am coping. I am surviving. I think, reviving too.

“Its difficult but not impossible.”, your voice echoes in my head and drives me insane. How do I tell you that impossibility is just a word for you while I have to live through the reality of circumstantial intricacy? I am disgusted with myself for not being able to find peace and solace within myself and for unknowingly creating a bubble-world around you. Why do I have to die a little every single day because you have ceased to be a part of my constantly-recurring struggle for existence?

I hurt every day but I cannot bring myself to the point of loathing you. I try to strike a conversation with you but I don’t know what else could I ask you except of your well-being and the gossip about weather since I have noticed that you are fond of posting pictures of snow, rain, spring, fall and what-not-weather-related on your social media. I try to converse heart-to-heart with you but you’ve given up. You had given up a long time ago since I was the reason for your frustrations, troubles and bruises. I disappointed you once and in turn you never trusted me with anything again, not even with a candid conversation. I wish you could see how I wait desperately for the times you would be around. However, I can never catch your eye like others do. Perhaps, you have stopped responding to any gestures which may indicate very subtly that I need you. One moment, I want to let you in and expose all my vulnerabilities and the other moment, I stop dead in my tracks for I fear that I will smash the wall which stands tall between us necessary for our survival and to maintain our individuality. I fear that I will burst your bubble with my unfortunate reality. The underlying fear of letting you down (yet again) and losing whatever little we have dictates my life at the very moment because seeing you torn apart is the last of the last things I could imagine indulging myself in.

So, I reside in silence while thunder roars within me. I hibernate to be able to hide my scars as best as I can. My world exists in a shell purposely so you can cherish life the way you do and make every second of it divine. I see you being yourself with others and exuberating just the right amount of confidence and charisma, and I am at peace. While you are doing just fine and dealt courageously with the unimaginable aftermath of our adversities; I, on the other hand, am still living through it.

You know what? You might think that after all this time, I should knock it off already and just be like you. But, you simply can’t see that normal has never been my forte, and it never will be.

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Is Your Soul Worth A Look?

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My soul feels uncomfortable in its very own body. I wonder if I am a disappointing it or choking its voice. It doesn’t communicate with me anymore in the way it used to before. Is it that I am not having sufficient solitude to entertain it? Am I embracing life that will yield only worldly pleasures or am I preparing for Hereafter?

I like to look good, who doesn’t? Perhaps, if not good, then at least presentable. Does looking good serve the reason of my existence? Should I be worried about my physical appearance or the appearance of my spirit? If I came face to face with it someday, will I be able to recognise it. Mirror is my best friend, I love to watch the young woman I am growing into but do I have the courage to watch the reflection of my soul in the mirror? I am always posing for a good picture if somebody flashes their camera in my face. This is the age of ‘Selfie’ – one can hold their cellular phone to their face and capture an incredible shot. I will like to see a ‘Selfie’ of my soul. I am told beauty lies within then why this world is chasing the material beauty that is unsustainable; something that is destined to be destroyed.

We are the nation of fools. We blindly follow. ‘Fuck’ is a casual word for adolescents; if they use it then they think they sound very modern. Another very common word, ‘Bitch’; everything can be described in today’s world with the help of these two words by people around me. Of course, there are exceptions to these cases; hence none of the subject should be taken personally. When will we open eyes and realise it is already too late to undo the damage we have caused to this beautiful planet? When will we stop bullying that quiet girl in the corner of the classroom? When will we stop this disease of Racism from corroding our unity? When will we stop hating if our hearts are capable to love abundantly? I ask this 5-year-old boy to draw a heart. He doesn’t draw the complicated biological heart with veins and blood streams but he takes out his red crayon to draw a gigantic ‘lovely’ heart on an A-4 sheet and then colour it all red. He is innocent and doesn’t know how our hearts have blackened over the years. Without any proof, you call Muslims terrorists. Without any knowledge of their Holy Book, you accuse their religion of preaching hate and war. If terrorists in this world give a bad name to Jihad, did you ever take the initiative to ‘Google’ the word ‘Jihad’? No! You didn’t because you are happy with what Media is feeding you with. You are contented to be a blind-follower. Then why don’t you invite Zombies over and let them take your brains? At least, somebody will get fed.


Photo Credits: https://google.com/images

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 (Part I)

Note: Since I was going through some of my old creations today, I thought of sharing this one of my heart-felt poetry which I wrote for my friend for her quick recovery after an awful accident that changed the course fo her life. This BALLAD will be divided into various parts as I am not in the will to post it without the element of curiosity. I have posted it before too on my old blog but many of my new friends haven’t been entertained so here you go with the first part – if you have read so re-enjoy and for fresh readers, *fingers crossed* (hope you like it).

Sometimes, my eye can betray me as well.

Whenever I think of you

I feel on me the dew

My hands sweat

My eyes become wet

Seeking around, finding someone

Who promised to be always by my side in the long run

I am struggling and fighting to recognize his voice

Lusting for the touch of his hands, smell of his body or my choice

My memories inundated with him only

Thus he left me forlorn and utterly lonely

He promised to build me the fountain of happiness

Money paid no heed, I loved his struggle effortless

He assured and reassured how he loved me the most

His confessions false, his existence reminiscent of a ghost

I was folly to think how he was the ONLY ONE for me

The reckless cheeriness and his ways responsible for my glee

One day he turned to me like a rock

Almost numb, my mindset shock

I wondered at his condition that day

My hand resting on his, consoling him to tell what he ought to say

He hesitated to proclaim his disappearance forever soon

He walked away leaving me under the blood dripping dark moon

To Be Continued…

Beyond The Horizon

Rise with the SUN everyday with new HOPE! Hope is a motivational FORCE!

Every second I dream to dream,
Days of joy preserved, but it seems.
The heavenly body scattered as golden streams,
Illuminating the world with its endless beams.

No wonders, if it shone lastly,
Playing hide and seek, as it does deliberately.
Dressed in a yellow garb, clad in orange blazers virtuously,
Stroking the soil, departing hastily.

Feeble hands tracing its path,
Thou gallant chivalrous grin that lasts.
Rising from the heavens with the tender warmth,
Pacing its way beyond the thoughts, indeed so fast.

Enwrapped in the gracious vesture of gold,
Benevolent and malicious at once in a mold.
Turning breathless in eventide, gradually losing the hold,
Unfolding the secrets of dark and cold. 

The glorious illumination executed by thee,
Offending the obscurity, pursuing the glee.
Commemorating the incarnation, dangers flee,
Rejoicing the existence of another day to be.