When was the last time You were genuinely Fiercely happy?
Now, Would you answer this rather naive question Immediately or would you pause Before you access the inner realms Of your mind?
Would you look up at the person asking The question and question his sanity Before answering because you can't Seem to believe that someone would Still bother to ponder over such simple Questions of the heart when the heartbeat Of the world is racing so fast to reach An illusory destination?
Or would you just say that Happiness is overrated? And not mean it because even While saying the statement you Genuinely wish for the weather in Your heart to be less blue?
Would you let love enter your answer? I mean has love not betrayed your hopes Enough for you to have to shun it from all your dialogues.
Or would you stare in silence because The idea of happiness itself seems less Genuine when you are battling with scars That could do with just enough light Of mere acceptance if not happiness?
Or would you ask the question back Hoping that the answer of another person Could help you figure out the terrain of Your own heart?
And if you do find an answer that is Painted with sombre , light shades would you Take the risk of appearing like a clown To the world that demands on a happiness That is loud and expensive?
And Would you allow yourself to know That the last time you were genuinely Fiercely happy , you were not aware of it Because you had taken it for a thing To be overlooked because it didn't mark anything Exuberant enough to be recorded in your soul?
And if you somehow smile a little when you Finally arrive upon the moment that you had let your heart Be free enough to feel a happiness that Was unquestioned hence fierce, will you let that smile linger A little longer on your parched lips Cause it might be your way of telling the Life within you that you are actually capable Of genuine joy without any validation? Whatsoever?
It let me believe that you would turn around in Your ways. Every time you chose annihilation over creation , I hoped . Every time you chose blood over heart , I hoped. Every time you chose to turn a blind eye to The Screams of the tormented soul of the world , I hoped. Against all reason , I hoped that you would see Through the facade . Through the stories that you tell yourself before you act against justice and humanity . Every time you acted as though your ideology weighed more than the lost lives of many , I hoped I hoped that if I just keep waiting for you to Remove the blindfold , life would flourish for once.
Well , we tried . But the allure of power is greater than anything you could offer through your meagre land and air and water and even life , The human replied.
Power over what ? The universe asked. Power over your own home? Power over the gift of life that has been offered without any conditions?
The man looked down at the broken fragments of The world . He had nothing to say . He was too ashamed .
Does this mean you have given up on humanity? He asked hoping for a ray of light in the darkness of it all.
Universe looked at him with a pitiful glance. She could not believe that even now , this man was not willing to take up the responsibility of bringing back Light to the world . The man still couldn't see the simple fact that the miracle of justice that he was aching for lay not outside him but it lay within his own heart .
Kneeling on the ground , he was looking up at her for salvation . While the treasure was lying there neglected amidst him . In the last shreds of humanity.
Closing her eyes , universe ripped out her heart. And lay it down beside him. This is the last thing I can offer ,she said.
Looking at the lifeless heart , the surprised man demanded for a heartbeat.
And with tears in her exhausted face , the universe replied in a feeble, heart wrenching tone,
It had been beating till my hope took its last breath.
The mother Of the deceased child Held out her palm to the universe And asked her for justice.
I thought that my child Was a miracle , a blessing, she said But I never knew that To be born draped In the color Of the night sky Is a curse in a world That celebrates only The morning sky Burning with the sun Of pride and arrogance.
Ask the colourblind World , she shouted, if the color of the blood that they Spilt of my son is any different From the blood that their Blessed less dark children carry inside them.
Ask them to tell me how His pain was Perceived to be of a different language only Because of the color of the skin the pain Was Inflicted upon.
Ask them to Erase that moment when My child would have looked up in pain Seeking for a little bit of kindness If not for anything but atleast for the Fact that he was human too And had to take his last breath, Not receiving any sort of help Finally coming to the stark understanding The being human was not Enough in a world That had buried humanity within The thick skin of blind injustice.
And finally ask them to Give me a Brush so that I can paint this world The color of white and White alone so that No child of this universe ever stands out.
Lest he be killed for being the hue of The color that absorbs it all In bitter silence .
The Art of Letting go is an Expensive one to learn.
We need to First eke out the Last shred of Courage. To believe That even without every Single thing that we are desperately Clinging onto , We are every bit worthy of the space that we occupy.
We then need To painstakingly learn to look at the world with A heart that is not heavy With the weight of the burden It has gotten used to carrying around. This might seem fairly easy , Because who would Not like to be unburdened After all? But the truth is that our heart Gets so used to the hypnotic baggage of Everything we carry That it synchronises its heartbeat To the rhythm of the chains Keeping it caged. And so to wake up every day And to willingly coax the heart Into learning a song that isn't Born from the belly of the chains We entangle ourselves in Is a very , very hard endeavour to Undertake, One that costs every last Bit of hope we can Muster , a hope to experience the Joy Of flying unbridled at Any and all cost.
And finally , If we do find this courage And this power to follow the above, We need to be able to Know that the song That we have lovingly And Carefully taught our hearts To sing in the wake of being Free from our burden Is one that holds the Calibre and hue to be Totally embraced by the ears Of the universe.
But once we Do somehow learn this Excruciating art Of letting Go ,
We will surely rise From the ashes of Our outgrown past self like the phoenix, And the real beauty would Be that now we would Be holding onto something far More kinder and holier Than our burden,
We will be holding onto Our truth and our love and our passion.
To live so lightly On the body of the universe That she finds it in Herself to even Allow us to Fly
Nobody Really wants to hear The hard truth of making One's dreams come true; The sweat and the swords And the numerous lost days And moments lies in the background Like a pale yellow blanket hungry for sleep.
It isn't that we Turn a blind eye To the struggle of seeing The beauty emerge from a sown seed It is just that the idea of Pushing through the filthy mud To blossom is not really worthy of the Glamour of Masked heroism.
That woman who sweats Daily to cook you meals while you Sit building the castles of spectacular grandeur. Or The man Who toils unquestioningly To see you view the world in a kinder tone .
Lie the true mechanism of our dreams.
The dream belongs to them As much as it belongs to the heart that It emerged from for without the shadows Of the nameless sacrifices of so many , Your heart wouldn't even be beating To dream .
Truth lies in failures And in the attempts And in the struggles And in the illusions of a greater Tomorrow that numerous Invisible souls had to hold onto To make today a Day worth building A dream in.
So when we dream, I think it is never For one individual alone, I think it is for the Entire world that had to adjust A little in their seats so that we could View the screen of life More clearly.
And so To see a tree As not only a spectacle of beauty But also to appreciate the wind , the sun , The mud , the storm and the music Of love that made it what it is . Is the measure of real success. For I guess without The background , the Foreground would never be Worthy Of admiration. For without the dark, Light would never
I saw the tear rolling down the face of a mother yesterday, when she couldn't stop her child from falling and I was reminded of you . You must be feeling that way too , right? Seeing us fall into our self made traps of deception. I have always found it so easy to criticize you. I never understood how you could create a heart and not guide it home. It seemed cruel to create a life that is utterly oblivious of its origin. Erased of the source , it seems inevitable that we wander to find ourselves. I always wondered how could you do this. And then , when I see a bird push her child out of the nest , I sometimes believe that it must have been trust . Trust , That we will guide each other home to our skies. I have so many reasons to not wake up to see you sometimes. Yet I do , in the hope that you will find a way to hold me in your womb once again and make me whole . I feel so lost sometimes , dear universe . As though I am singing a song that is entirely out of tune with the rest of the world. And I fear to admit my strangeness even to myself . What if I lose my mind to the rhythm of the society? I have so many questions I want to ask you. About the color of the sky the day you made me , was it a dark grey or a candy pink? Did the world stop just a moment to welcome a new life? So many questions that I wonder if you would find enough time to put up with my curiousity. How far is forever? How deep is a heartbreak? How shallow is vanity? How curious is God? And finally, Do you care? Do you actually care about how we perceive you? You stand invisible and let us judge you based on how the world treats us. And you drink in our perception with equanimity and love . I admire this about you .Your ability to hold so many human minds. Perceiving and analysing and prodding through your being. I came from you and I will return to you but I want to live in such a way that when I do return to your invisible entirety , I leave knowing that I made the world a tiny bit more colourful . A little bit more insane .I think too much of sanity has led us too deep into despair . And we could all do with a fresh dose of insanity.A newer perspective. With which we hold you. I could reason with you forever about the idea of justice but I want to fall in love instead.Do you think that is naive? Irresponsible even? But time seems so limited and my heart too vast. And Love seems like the only real justice I can do to you. So when I say , I love you,Do you believe me dear universe? or Are you tired of being slaughtered for your gifts and being misunderstood? Impossible as it may sound from my aching heart , I do love you .And I want you to know That all is well with my soul. And I hope all is well with yours too.
This is not what you Wanted. This is what Was given to you . So treat It with the lightness of a Long time lover , my ma Tells me , When I complain to Her of the unfamiliarity I often feel Within myself for myself. Her words though true do not soothe me. No words have ever held Enough power to heal the immaterial. Burden I hold.
I don't want to be analysed,
I really do not want my heart to Be fit into an equation, Nor do I want my moments to Be weighed in a stone cold machine Tasting like metallic blood.
What I want is something I don't know how to ask For. Because I don't know If it has an existence even. I know That I want To not feel like a stranger. It is exhausting to breathe when Your breath speaks a language That is foreign to you . You tell me To move on to something better , but I Don't understand the logic of leaving Behind unfelt seconds to wither away While you plant something new In the hope that you can feel the beauty Of it. As though it is the flowers in The graveyard that matter more than The lives that lay hidden Like stopped clocks in its terrain.
It is quite a waste of time to Introspect in a world that revers the Extrovert but it is also quite a tragedy when time In itself is an intrinsic phenomenon that Couldn't exist if not for what out inner Self makes of it.
What do you want? Tell me. In clear terms tell me cause I have never known how To want in a world that Was just given to me.
I want to dissolve , Yes I want to take my irrationality and my Poetry and the music of my being And dissolve into the fiber of this Universe , I want her to listen to the Music she created within me as me And tell me the lyrics that she intended for me To add to it. And when she does , I would ask Her to tell me , the name of the silence That couldn't be held any longer and hence resulted In the creation of a music That's me
I want to know how It is that the pain of a child can be treated With so much love and understanding and how it Is that the pain of an adult be dismissed so Easily because It is assumed that the adult must know Better before letting himself fall like a child.
Why is the pain painted with different Colors Based on the years of the fallen? One a deep red, and The other a black.
I want to know if the joy That one allows oneself to feel Matter when it takes birth in a heart That has lost the map to Happiness altogether.
And I really want To know if there will Come a day , when The world that Has been given to me Will also Be the world that I Actually want.
before you proceed, this post is prolly going to trigger those who have thanatophobia (the fear of death). if you're one of those, i suggest you might not as well continue reading. thank you.
i know there are so many things happening today. but i'm going to talk about one of those that isn't circulating much these days.
i can never find the right words to say something about what it is. but i think i know what it looks like. depression doesn't usually call for help. people who have this medical condition don't reach out most of the time but you can always tell that a person is possibly experiencing this. don't get me wrong because they always say they're fine. they don't always admit the amount of burden they're carrying. people always misinterpret it with sadness but here's the thing, they don't feel sadness. they don't feel anything at all. numbness is a closer term to what they're feeling. and please don't have the audacity to tell them to get over it, or just sleep it out, or just simply move on. sometimes the pain is just too much that they literally feel nothing at all, that even physical hurt doesn't affect the patient. that's why they start physically hurting themselves in ways we cannot imagine. people question sometimes as to how they get to suffer the physical hurt and carry them over. they ' feel the pain. the level of morbidity increases in the hopes for an escape, and it's not just that word but it's because they feel like there's nothing else in this world to be alive about. that their situation forces them to think that death is a solution. it never is.
i can't say that i feel them because every person going through it has different experiences and i can never say that i feel the same exact thing, but there are similarities. sadness mostly fuels the condition. sometimes after months or even just days of crying themselves to sleep, the next time they feel the pain, it doesn't strike the tears anymore. it just comes like an anchor tied to one's neck. it suffocates more than crying ever will. overthinking can also be one of the causations. one that terrorizes oneself mentally that one feels like he or she is no longer needed in the world, and that's when some people choose to commit suicide. another thing is the feeling of being absolutely hopeless and helpless or either of those. the pills can be illusionary and it doesn't work all the time. the hormones (specifically the "happy" hormones such as dopamine, serotonin, etc.) can be a some sort of trickery to some patients but they only infuse in a matter of time. the lack of hope usually brings about the cycle of going back to the pain one has once experienced giving in to the same trauma, causing the same problem. that's why these medical pills can result to addiction because some patients tend to think that their happiness is situated only chemically through that medication. consulting a psychologist doesn't help all the time also, especially if the medical professional doesn't know much about the patient's history and most of the patients are secretive when it comes to very personal experiences, making the situation unavoidably blind for the medical professional to tackle.
i know that we have different ways to cope up with such things. on my part, i prefer being alone when under such symptoms because i feel like the advices can be of redundance (don't get me wrong because i do need advices but i get so mentally unstable sometimes that i shrug those off) but what i do is i pray. i seek for His guidance because i do think that no one else can ever understand. God helps in so many ways. He always does. prayer always gives me the feeling of peace so unworldly in a way that doesn't make me forget, but it reminds me that one's worth can never be seen in earthly measures. another thing that helps too in accordance to my friend who's diagnosed with the same disease is to reach out to the closest people. before she used to hurt herself, she'd always message someone and i know that we can't be there all the time but time is also crucial for some of them. still, some depressed patients don't have close friends and some prefer to be quiet. some always smile, saying they're alright because in reality, some just don't want to be a burden. that's why they tend to choose to leave through suicide.
we can never control people's choices but we can always try to help. so please, if you have friends that you know are constantly unstable either mentally, emotionally, physically, etcetera, etcetera. if you know they're no longer in their normal states. if you know something is bothering them. if you know there is something wrong. if you feel like there's something unusual about the way they move or talk or chat or by just their body language or facial expression. even if you don't get to see any of those symptoms, please talk to them. even if some don't want the attention, make them feel like they're not fighting alone because they aren't. most of them feel like no one will ever understand and that's right, because people will never be in their shoes but each one of us has the responsibility to do what we can in situations crucial to anyone's life. please check on your friends. ask if they don't say something first. just be there for them. even if they prefer not to say anything, stay in silence.
another person has currently lost his life due to such medical condition and i feel like everybody has the right to know what it looks like even if you don't get to feel the same way.
it's never easy to deal with depression. this killer has crushed so many lives and we shouldn't allow it to take any more.
there are a lot of depression hotlines but i can't drop any since i haven't tried any of them personally and i can't recommend something i don't have any assurance of but i'm gonna finish this post with a bible verse.
"The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” -Deuteronomy 31:8.
please stay healthy these days. someone loves you even if you refuse to know that. God bless you, all. :).
I am still learning how to control my anger, trying to resist that urge to break something, looking at my fist and realizing I do not need to use it to destroy that I can still fight wars by using my voice as a sword.
I am still learning how to let go, there is no protocol about how to react when people leave, whether it pays to hold on to resentment, or simply wait for time to pass and trust that the hurt should fade.
I am still learning to be a little kinder a little bit, with every passing day to put on the shoes of a stranger and walk their roads smell their grass and see their rain.
I am still learning to realize that the world doesn't revolve around my whims that needs are not necessarily the same as wants, and even if I would be forgotten someday it doesn't hurt to light a candle in the dark.
Being disintegrated, My soul integrates everyday Darkness has engulfed me up And I'm waiting for the dawn. In the meantime which is the dark side of the day, namely night, Bats bruise me in pieces and my chopped pieces want to be integrate !!! Every beat of my heart is waiting for the dawn. A floating dream of the night has ingrained in me I can see a full solar eclipse Moon is covering the sun with its aura I can see a light behind the moon seems moon is exposing the sun I want to grab it, Oh that's beautiful corona!! SOOTHING ME!! HEALING ME!! Suddenly my chair creaked, I'm out of nightmare And still It's night !! In my balcony sitting on a chair, My soul is waiting for change in sky's hue from jet black to blue. Air is blowing in music, Dew drops are satiating my soul after filtering by air. I feel dawn has fallen on me Slumberous air is pushing on that brutal night A bud is opening itself petal by petal. Dew drops are landing softly on it. And I'm feeling this, I'm feeling that I'm healing. My scattered pieces have begun to float slowly to form my formless body Sitting on the chair, I'm feeling this every aspect from night to dawn. Everything is too much rhapsodic. As Hecate has showered all her grace on me and sanitized my soul Now I'm feeling the dawn ~Vandita
Why sadness lasts long? I asked my father to know the cause Expecting something solid to be cast
But he just gave me the problem of math Which said divide any even by odd I wrote on that piece 10 divided by 3
He took the paper and wrote the answer Which was 3.3333333......... And smiled amidst
I was confused as it wasn't the answer I was expecting And in next moments I was flabbergasting over the thought he was sharing Do you know the end of this answer? I said it doesn't have any cause it's irrational And that was the link my father took saying that
When we think irrationally there is no end to sadness or any feelings you hold But if you are rational enough and round it The answer will be in your hands And you will know exactly where to stop...
I was amazed by the simplicity of answer with the given complexity of thoughts I had and decided to try being a rational brat. -Vaishnavi Tiwari