Mama

Mama

Every night when you think I am asleep or resting, my eyes remain wide open and my heart aches. I feel like punching a wall. Mama, I used to think we couldn’t feel someone else’s pain.

You wake me up every morning, your face a little different every time. Yet the only thing that remains is your wonderful and tolerant smile. You never talk about the elbow bruises, the chapped lips or the youthful scars on your body. Perhaps, you feel victorious in them. One more night, one more day without breaking entirely.

I walked into your room one afternoon. I can’t even remember what I needed. You laid on the floor as still as a corpse and your voice as broken as the vase on the floor. I said “Mama can you hear me?”

All you said –  “Make sure, papa doesn’t hear you.”

One day you picked me up from school, I hugged you so tight that you suddenly cried. It was the first time I saw tears in your eyes. “I thought you were the strongest ma”, I said jokingly. You laughed and wiped your own tears, something that you are so good at doing now. That is day I realized, I’m the only think that makes you weak.

All those late nights when I would sneak into the living room to watch TV, I did not actually want to be awake. I needed something to block out the howling I could hear from your room. I prefer nightmares now, I do. However, cartoons always manage to override the noise. I tried to be strong like you.

Mama, I know you don’t like to eat anymore. Your lunches were always uneaten, food always thrown off the plate. Why did it make you lose your appetite? You needed all your strength. I remember how happy food and chocolate used to make you. You shouldn’t have given up on happiness like that. I am your happiness too.

Every night when father comes home late, I can hear him walking around the house. His drunken legs give way to his harshness. Yet you try to tame him and calm him down. I have never seen you act mad. You pick up the pieces he breaks. I think maybe because they resemble your own heart.

Hey Mama,

can I fix your heart?

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Hey, Love

Hey, Love

Hey love,

How could you give up so fast,

For eons we were meant to last.

My eyes yearn to see you one last time,

My ears only hear impending chimes.

 

 

Hey love,

Was it really not hard?

To open up to me and let down your guard.

I fear you’ll replace me with someone better,

And in my head everyday, I’ll write you a letter.

 

Hey love,

Were your words made of truth?

And those times we laughed in those dirty booths?

Your eyes are bigger liars than lips can be,

And now you must feel so very free.

 

Hey love,

Do you even like the sound of my voice?

I feel like I was only your dirty choice.

I was a distraction perhaps or a key,

A door to a sleazy bedroom maybe.

 

Hey love,

What about those times I cried for you?

I wanted to see you happy and not blue.

You ignored my concern, I can live with that.

But baby, are you still feeling sad?

 

Hey love,

You always liked me in my Yellow dress,

Only cause I looked better than a morbid mess.

Will you come back if I put it on for you?

It fits me better than your love will ever do.

 

Hey love,

As you walk down your path,

I’m trying not to bless you with my wrath.

For love exists in my heart eternally,

But this time it’s not for you, it’s for me.

 

Instagram Hiatus

Instagram Hiatus

I am proudly announcing, that I have refused to stop giving into my endless tendency to spy on other people’s lives. In other words, my favorite application Instagram has voluntarily been deleted from my phone.

It is so sad that I can easily spend 45 minutes scrolling down instagram in just one sitting. It truly manages to grab my attention and drain my intention of doing literally anything else. Instagram has way too much to offer and while that may be Instagram’s strength, it sure is my utter weakness. The things I usually follow, are dog videos, gorgeous celebrities, travel destination, obviously my friends and maybe one or two fact pages. I’m trying not to miss any of you.

Being a 12th grader in India is notorious for being one of the hardest and saddest things of all time. And now that the most terrifying exams in a student’s live are due for me in 2.5 months, I think it is a wise step to lay off on the dog videos and other less important pages.

It has only been like two days so far and I want to at least do this for a month. You see, not having the delectable app on my fingertips is helping me prioritize. I can already feel my day getting longer- and that is a good thing. There are still occasional moments when my muscle memory drives my finger to the empty space in my phone menu where my priceless app used to be, but I feel like that just makes me even more resistant.

I feel cleaner somehow and I’m trying to do other dopamine inducing activities which believe me are a lot more constructive. I thought detoxes were supposed to be difficult but the first two days of my Instagram detox have been GREAT! Of course I have Snapchat and Facebook so I’m sure that makes it much easier. However, not having Instagram is definitely a noticeable change in my routine and motivation.

I’m going to hope that this carries on for much longer. I know I wouldn’t want to leave the app for good but this is my way of introducing moderation! I read a quote once, “Everything in moderation, including reality” , Instagram being the not so real element. 

The Day I Went to New York

The Day I Went to New York

 

Ever since I was really young, the one city I always wanted to go to was New York City. I don’t know if it was the movies or its enormous popularity, it simply spoke to me. I had a chance to visit my ultimate dream on 23rd February, 2017.

My words will never do justice to my experience.

 

 

I still remember being on that plane

With a galloping heart and wishful eyes

The longest plane ride it sure did feel

The day I went to New York

 

 

As I got off I couldn’t believe

My dream of all dreams came true

Like a race car, I darted into the city

The day I went to New York

 

 

The skyscrapers seemed larger than life

The crowd echoed of worldly symphony

Every person I somehow envied

The day I went to New York

 

 

The air smelled like its people

Mavericks with valuable diversity

Yet a common identity they all revealed

The day I went to New York

 

 

Every road, every turn I wanted to see

Each one posed as a raconteur

Reeking of contemporary amalgamated with history

The day I went to New York

 

 

Every cafe seemed like it was featured in a movie,

Every store, full of gripping tendencies

Central Park had its own tranquility

The day I went to New York

 

 

After sunset, began the perpetual party

From midnight Pizza runs to underground bars

Incandescing lights looked like a sheet of life

The day I went to New York

 

 

Bagels and gyros on every corner

Coffees to accompany the long walks

Anachronistic cuisines also passed by me

The day I went to New York

 

 

An electric city with an ethereal pulse

It flows with the current of passion

I succumbed to its vivacity

The day I went to New York

 

 

And now when I reminisce gleefully 

How good life had once been to be

I can’t help but simply smile about

The day I went to New York

 

Where Have I Been?

Where Have I Been?

The one thing I feel truly guilty of, is not writing enough. Writing is like therapy for me and going to therapy shouldn’t be erratic, especially for those who really need it. Somehow I always end up doing this on and off thing. It’s like a manic – depressive disorder except the mania is wild periods of elation when all I want to do is write and the depressive period is well, life.

I have already made two references to Psychology. You must be thinking I’m depressed. Well I’m not, I’m just a Psychology student.

Getting to my point, I really wanted my blog to be perpetually exuberant, allowing me to not only share but rigorously practice. I also wanted it to be a platform for me to discover other writers and form a relationship with them,  all in the hope of getting better. I wanted my blog to be more social and so far I have failed at that.

So here I am, attempting to turn that around. I want to write much, much more. From three-line poems to full on rants about my day, I need to turn this into the social space I always wanted it to be. And I thought the best way to start on that would be to share this with whoever reads it. Quite a gamble, I know. But I’ve got to start somewhere. 

And most importantly, WRITE MORE!

So here’s to me, choosing to make more of an effort to participate in the WordPress community, and here’s to you hopefully not hating what I write!

Who Am I?

Who Am I?

Trudging along the road,

I kneel down and sigh

Blood drips down my forehead,

I can feel my legs, barely.

 

 

A man calls to me,

He has a stoic halo.

I cannot remember his name,

My visage turns grim.

 

 

There is a boisterousness in my head,

A clamor for answers.

I try to recall my name,

My name I cannot say.

 

 

Hurriedly I rise,

Scrambling for pieces,

Tell me, who am I?

I am afraid to think.

 

 

I can still hear the firing,

It worsens my memory.

Leaning on a broken car,

I look up to find God.

 

 

The sky is full of smoke,

The dust wraps us all.

My hands feel heavy,

A gun weighs me down.

 

 

I rub my eyes and see,

A soldier it seems I am.

A valiant and ambitious one,

Yet mortal in the end.

 

 

Did I come here to kill?

Did I come here to protect?

I look around and see,

I only see distress.

 

 

Whichever job I came here for,

This job I do regret.

my heart roars inside,

Agony possesses me now.

 

 

Apathetic to my identity,

I pull out my gun to my head,

I stare into the dust and say,

Tell me, who am I?

Dear Bad Drivers!

Dear Bad Drivers!

With the sun shining luminously across the road, my dark brown glares cover my emphatic eyes as my left hand grips the steering wheel. My right arm sits on the windowsill as my right hand’s fingers run through my wavy hair. No frizz today! The humidity is low it seems. Soon my fingers find its way from my black hair to my black radio. The volume is up. The song is rock. My heart is content.

“Beep beep!!”

“What even!?”, I say to myself softly as I turn the music down. It seems to me like a white Sedan is trying to grab my attention for no reason at all. It is coming from behind me. I’m in my lane I think, feeling mildly perplexed.

“BEEP BEEPP!!!”

“But why?”, I say these words as I look into my rear view mirror with a sudden, grotesque expression.

“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!”

I open my eyes dramatically. Feeling awfully cold, I realize I had thrown my fuzzy blanket off the bed sometime during the night. I grab my cellphone and stare at the alarm ringing on my phone screen.

“Beep beep!!”, it goes.

With a dismal look on my face, I begin to dread the abysmal commute to work this morning. Thinking about ubering, I head into the kitchen thinking I’m going to need EXTRA coffee today. As I pull out the coffee maker from the upper left cabinet above my dirty sink that I promised I’d clean last night but didn’t cause the traffic got me home too late, I look out the window next to it and say “Ew”. Unlike my dream, there was no sun or a clear road ahead. Only a road overcrowded with big cars, small cars, buses, autos, bikes, and bicycles. The only thing common to all was it felt like they all screamed “Don’t even think about it today”.

But when you have a devilish boss like mine, your angelic counterpart is compelled to think about it.

For all those mornings when so many people across India feel this way, on behalf of them is a letter written by me to bad drivers.

Dear bad drivers,

Hi. Or wait, I think I should greet you with a blaring “HONK HONK!”. The deafening sound you choose to greet me with at any time of the day. Be it me driving home from work, to the grocery store, taking my friend home or even to the hospital. You are annoyingly omnipresent.

Respect is a virtue we Indians egotistically pride ourselves in at every chance we get. Maybe the word ‘Respect’ redeems us of all the actual jarring faults of our country. So out of respect for the word ‘Respect’, I am requesting for you to respect me- a normal person who is allowed to use the same roads as you do. Whether you’re a middle class man rushing home to his children to take them to the park they always wanted to go to or a high-profile businesswoman racing her Zomato valet to her house who is supposed to be bringing her, her favorite Mexican bowl….

I don’t care. Your mexican bowl or paucity of time for your children is neither worth your life nor my business. So let me explain to you, your business.

As a normal human being who is expected to value other human beings at a minimal level atleast, your driving habits speak for you otherwise. Every single time you cut me in, make a face that makes you look duller than my worn out jeans from 2012 or honk at me when you know I’m an equal victim as you in the same cycle of traffic, you instigate 10 other people to be worse than you.

But they don’t. And this is why.

Basically, they use a rarely found concept called logic that allows them to unlock certain avenues in their brain which automatically relax their nerves despite the stressful situation of them waiting to get home.

In other words if you are the type of person who judiciously uses their cellphone and social media while driving, their brains broadcast a DM to be “calm af” and plays a YouTube video inside the body titled “What an idiot! I wish he would learn how to drive”.

So friend, before you hammer the hell out of my universally valid argument, I’m not asking you to be selfless. I want you to spend time with your kids and heck I love Mexican bowls – bro you need to get that! But, can you please for a second just adopt a lingering sense of courtesy that might actually improve your chances of getting to your destination with a free smile on someone else’s face?

I know I sound like the anomaly considering that we are all so used to people rash driving and driving on the wrong side that when you tell them to stop, they look at you as if you don’t belong in this world. It’s true. i’ve experienced it.

But you’re the true anomaly in a world perpetually trying to redeem itself with words like respect. Be kind. Be normal. Be fair, please.

 

With love and a distant handshake from my car window to yours,

From people who care about others too.

 

Technology Changed My Day!

Technology Changed My Day!

I rub my eyes and heave a gigantic sigh of relief.My eyes still closed, I scramble about, searching for my smartphone which is so elegantly laying on the side table. My fingers know the drill of this routinely exercise. Placing it in front of my face I press the unlock button which causes a sharp screen glare in my face. “Ugh!”, I exclaim.

Coming back to reality, I check the time and there it says, “7:42am”. My fastidious self is unable to handle this wild beginning to my Saturday morning. I missed the time for my run!

After heavily admonishing Siri for not ringing my alarm this morning, she opens Saavn and plays upbeat music to help me get started on my day.

As I plug in my earphones while running however late it is for me, it is indeed a fascinating morning. The skies are a plethora of hues with a tinge of harsh sunlight but not harsh enough to make me run home. The breeze is strong but feels light on my face as sweat starts dripping on my forehead and my cheeks turn baby pink and I stop to catch a breath. I crunch my body as my hands grope my knees and breathe heavily until I stand erect again and pull my phone out of my pocket. My running app proudly tells me, “2 miles done”. I smile and kiss my phone. I turn around to start heading home but wait, I am lost. This route is foreign and perhaps I was not paying attention for being so focused on saving time on my day. At least it is pretty.

“Stop! This isn’t safe”, I think to myself. Google Maps, HELP ME! 12% battery but its okay. I can make it. As I navigate my way home, I use the 6% battery left on my phone to take selfies intermittently. I pose against random, colorful walls and take portraits of stray dogs for my temporary photography obsession. VSCO gives me an array of filters to refine my amateur photos and ta-da! Feeling like a photography maven, an Instagram post is ready to be uploaded. I reach home and jump in the shower and start singing an old 80s song that I can’t quite remember the lyrics of. I put my hands on my head and my psittacism of the same lyrics is of no avail. Frustrated, I Google the lyrics and voila! My parents can now happily enjoy my semi raspy voice through the bathroom door.

Opening my wildly unorganized closet, I instantly grab the new Blue shirt I ordered last week through Amazon. Unable to decide whether it complements my  jet black jeans or classic beige pants more, I sit on my bed and resort to Pinterest for helping me find the perfect look for my day. Takes me a couple of minutes until I decide to go with the White skirt. The ongoing fashion is literally and metaphorically on my fingertips.

The day progresses into noon and before I surround myself with an endless abyss of assignments and menacing school projects, my gluttonous heart demands an Orange dreamsickle milkshake. “Zomato will take at least 45 minutes”, I think. “It’s worth it”, I say as I excitedly open my app to order a milkshake to pacify my petulant self. Sipping on my vivid colored drink, schoolwork has never felt more tranquil.

After that fleeting afternoon, perplexed and bored I decide to do something I might enjoy a little more.

“Watch a movie?”

“Where is my kindle?”

“Make that video for my mom’s birthday?”

The winner is YouTube dance lessons. It always wins. Bluetooth and my speakers make the evening abundantly vivacious and I hop and jump to the countless beats that grip my attention and let me sway into a trance that helps me realize the paramount position of dancing in my life.

Done with my day, I scroll through Instagram. A  renowned photography page liked my photo of the stray dog. The sent me a DM to be part of their next workshop. I guess my interest might not end up being temporary after all.

Before I know it, it is 10 pm. “Don’t forget to set that alarm”, i say to Siri as she plays my favorite calming music to help me move into a state of slumber. 

They Say That Friendship Lasts Forever

They Say That Friendship Lasts Forever

They say that friendship last forever – a simple myth that gives people immense hope despite our awareness of its tragic consequences.

As Homo sapiens, we pride ourselves in the countless visionaries, inventors and extraordinary people our fascinating world has birthed. Yet, we fail to acknowledge everyone’s common weakness- the one that binds us together and tears us apart simultaneously without us ever being able to contemplate the extent of its heart wrenching after effects.

We crave love in the purest form and despite it being a ubiquitous notion, our super egos being more powerful than our minds stop us from admitting it. Sometimes even to ourselves. It’s like everything we do, think, imagine or hope for is a manifestation of our incessant need that this world fails to fulfill in most cases. You see, this world is designed in a specific way that we may not all have understood yet. It has an arcane beauty, one that can enthrall you enough to be blinded by its sheer malevolence.

Looking around, we may often see dim lighted cafes that echo of large vivacious groups and voracious eaters, laughing hysterically like it’s the end of the world or concerts where best friends click selfies while holding each other so tight hoping that the night ever ends for them. But like that night, good times end too and with that so do good friendships. So no matter how many times you wipe your friends’ tears on the bathroom floor after ordering yourselves a large pizza and making sure to remember to order extra olives because you know she loves olives, our human complexity jostles us into ourselves ultimately. We our are longest commitments, not our friends.

I may sound like a cynical misanthrope. A person without any friends at all. Selfish even. But to be fairly candid, aren’t we all a little bit selfish?

We only enjoy friendship until it saturates our need for love. It is like a game of stimulus and response. Without an appropriate stimulus, response secedes. So when our friends act distant or self-absorbed, we introspect for a while until we decide to move on with ourselves, doing everything we can to shield our hearts from the arrows of reality until we can find our haven, again.

Time is ethereal yet it is obvious that it can be much shorter than we want it to be. And its rapid speed can sometimes be overwhelming enough for us to be at constant battle with it. So as we battle time and pretty much everything else, it becomes like our duty to put ourselves and our needs before everything else. Not duty only, it is survival.

Even though losing friends may result in a severe paroxysm, broken dreams, desolation and an urge to save our eloquence for another time, our valiant hearts find a way to pull through our messes in order to save ourselves.

Paradoxically, friends truly are brillant. There is no replacement for how a coffee date on a rainy day can boost your joy or how efficacious one simple message saying “I’m here for you” is. This recurring experience is one of the most cherishable and will undoubtedly produce excessive dopamine in your body. However, instead of learning it the hard way it might be easier to accept that it is ephemeral, despite its actual duration in time.

So as we tackle life as we call it while encountering many bumps and finding people to enjoy them with we must be grateful for knowing people we think we love more than we love ourselves ,exuberating compassion, getting lost with them in the maze that will one day lead us to ourselves.

So true friendship exists.

It can be crazily impactful whether you’re 7 and sharing Hot Wheels cars or 70 and sharing memories.

But it is fleeting.

Friendship does not last forever.

For one reason.

One reason only.

Just so that we do.