I am sorry, guys. I daydream. Neither she gave me any book nor I asked her for the movie. I just saw a very beautiful young lady sitting beside me enjoying her novel. I couldn't even find the courage to say Hi. You can call me Fattu. Thanks.
Although the character in the story is a girl but that gaze can make anyone uncomfortable. I have anxiety so I have found myself too in that situation many times. But it's true and sad that girls have to face it much more than boys. This is a very common problem. I've seen it. I've experienced it. But I have no idea what to do other than talking more about it.
PS: Read भाग - 01 and भाग - 02 first before reading this part.
Kho gaye hum kahan is a song that fixes you. It reaches to your pores and bones, trespassing into your flesh that covers all the pretence which gives you skin, like infant maple leaves. Certain nights are too cold and you run out of a kettle to brew a hot cup of tea. Kho gaye hum kaha comes to your rescue like an immediate tea bag. It takes you back to your roots, to the happier times, to the beginning where you were unscratched by misery, to the times when you were nothing but yourself, unapologetically ; to the times when you swung round with your entirety, with all of your pieces fitted right inside you, with no one to share your parts with.
//tedhe medhe raaste hai, jadui imarate hai, Main bhi hoon, tu bhi hai yahan //
This is the song you listen to when nothing goes well and when no one is willing to understand you. This is the song that therapists a bad day, a day that you don't want to recall. This song is a lullaby to all the mayhem, all the shattered and scattered that life has garland you with. Kho gaye hum kaha is your mother's forehead kiss on the days life bullies you for your originality and just like your childhood, you rush into the arms of your mother cocooned in this song.
//ruh se behti hui dhun ye ishaare se Kuch mere raaz tere raaz awara se//
Love changes shapes and faces as the years pass by. But there remains one face which stays etched to your memory, which deports you to your puppy love, to the lover who made you believe in the magic of universe and pull of driving forces. Love, like a human body, grows, ages, becomes weak and senile, and finally dies. But it helps you develop a sense of understanding and maturity. You don't see the world with a spectrum in your palm and paper boats in your dreams. You see it in black and white. But on a lazy sunday afternoon, kho gaye hum kaha takes you back to the abandoned streets, to that one warm, familiar gaze, to your first love or the love which was a living dream.
//adhoori si kahani meri, Fisal jaye bhi toh darr nhi Ruk jaane ki zaroorat nahin //
Life is summary of i-wish-i-did-this-differently. Do you ever wonder that every night when we are going to sleep, we are growing another step closer to the end of our existence? Regrets sediment in heaps of remorse or grief. Life has begun to be more monotonous and tiring than it was back in your teenage. Once in a while, when you are trapped in an endless loop of deadlines and workload, you rest your head on your workdesk hidden behind your work cubicle and wonder if you failed to live your life as much as you should have. Shouldn't you have sipped on lemonades and surfed on the high tides while you were busy wiping your sweat invested in your result card? You feel that life ran out of time too quickly, that you held it too tightly when you should have glistened under the summer sky and danced like a butterfly instead. You raise your head from the workdesk and realise that the hourglass is still echoing the chances to squeeze some of the smiles you can afford. You plug on your headphone and kho gaye hum kaha becomes your saviour, like always. Kho gaye hum kaha is your father's strong arms protecting you silently. It is the song that lets you rest, that lets you breathe, that provides you comfort , selflessly. It is the song that takes you home, cradled in a blanket of stars on the ocean blue sky.
"तुम एक लडक़ी हो और हमारे घर में लड़कियों को पढ़ाया नहीं जाता, उनका काम केवल इतना होता है कि वो बड़ी हो और ब्याह कर अपने घर चली जाएं"
My Grandma was 6 when she was told this by her father cause the thing she asked for was, books to study basic acronyms of the Hindi language, this all seems to be meaningless as of today, right? but, it did happen with her and I'm sure she wasn't the ONLY one back then, just for the sake they were women they were not allowed to study cause if they will study they might be able to recognize the difference between, what is right and what is wrong, isn't it? All they were supposed to do was, give birth to a new life, which would be better if a boy resides in that womb cause again if she would be a girl they would have to search for someone who could keep her cause of course she had no right over her own body.
Now, if I am talking about my grandma's childhood then this incident isn't older than 70 years so if you go deep and think a little further what would have been the Challenges those would have faced by Maa Savitri Bai Phule some 180 years ago, to think only about it is so frightening but she did, she didn't quit and ultimately she won!
She never discriminated between, The so-called Upper Caste and The lower caste as she belonged to the Shudra Community and knew how it felt to be discriminated against based on the family you are born in, for her anyone sitting in her class was a student seeking enlightenment, and nothing more.
The Concepts of Women Education, Saving Girl Child, Mid-day Meals in schools for Backward Children, Scholarships for poor and needy students may sound like concepts being introduced by some government at a particular time but they were all introduced by her, cause for her if you are women and you're educated and healthy you would make a whole generation ahead of yours educated and nurtured.
Today, On her 190th Birth Anniversary, I Bow Down to and Thank her for all she did, so that today I could convey my thoughts to all of you.
"स्वाभिमान से जीने के लिए पढ़ाई करो, पाठशाला ही इंसान का सच्चा गहना है।" सावित्री बाई फुले।
IF YOU ARE A GIRL AND YOU COULD READ THIS, THANK HER.
"Be my mistake Then turn out the light She bought me those jeans The ones you like"
I'm sorry that I zoned out at yesterday's Thanksgiving. Your turkey slices and cranberry gravy tasted so much like the one he used to cook. I tried the skinny jeans you gifted me, I looked like me but I didn't want to. My bones are tired and my heart is hurting. Can you please not hold me in your arms like he did?
"I don't want a hug I just wanna sleep The smell of your hair Reminds me of her feet "
I overslept today too. Sex with you is amazing but the morning after it is always regretful. I don't like letting you touch me at times. What if your fingers leave their imprint on my skin? I can't afford letting the taste of your tongue, clog my throat. Your hair's curly and lips crimson red. Maybe I am pretending to love you so that I can keep his familiar remnants.
"So don't wait outside my hotel room Just wait 'til I give you a sign 'Cause I get lonesome sometimes Save all the jokes you're gonna make While I see how much drink I can take Then be my mistake "
Stop writing me love notes and waking me up with breakfast in bed. It hurts and it'll hurt again, it'll hurt more. You will not love me after a while and I can't help but fall in love with you someday soon. Stop wiping my tears while painting my scars. Damaged goods don't sustain for long. My wounds are still fresh, don't trace the dagger over them again. My longings knows no limits, I will be trapped and jammed in pain. I loved him hard, I loved him deep.Now, I am a sinking in the sea of unanswered questions, I am drowning in my heartbreak.
"I shouldn't have called 'Cause we shouldn't speak You do make me hard But she makes me weak"
Don't ask me why I push you away, don't cry if I do it all over again. I am breathing with the ghost of past, I am scared to pass you my torments. Your hands slip inside my sweatshirts and underwears but they are too cold to melt the ice in my heart. Go away, don't embrace my demons that I can't even dare to face. I am washing my sins under the faucet of your sacrifices. I am disappearing in your warmth and wishes.
"Save all the jokes you're gonna make While I see how much drink I can take Then be my mistake "
Saturday night when I am on the edge of a breakdown, I'll call you drunk and miserable. Despise me please and spare me of your rescue. I am getting used to the smoke rings of your safety. Stop cracking the stupid jokes that you do and then laugh at them all by yourself. Your laughter makes it harder for me to not love you. I am building myself a wall too high, to swallow the suffering inside. Don't lend me your hand, darling, we might together die.
Why the fuck do WRITERS think so much? Mundane makes metaphors and grandeur makes stories. I have long forgotten living in the moment. It's all just words, sentences and proses. I need to stop pacifying myself with ideas XD
Tis a convo with a senior. Ankita di, you really do bear all my shit :') ❤
You haven't seen the moon kiss the night through the stars, have you? I have. I have seen my galaxy floating in your eyes, in the sparkle that shone when you think about the interstellar. You often say that life is a book of various versatile chapters. If you are one, I'd like to dogear all the pages written about you. I would like to place a bookmark on just the last page of you being a part of my constellation. So that each time I'd realise that you are a star among many others shining in the horizon, I'd flip those old, rusted pages again, in a hope to fill my heart and eyes with you. You remain in me like a container holding the sounds of the sea ; the gurgles of the high tides and the low tides, because the human body is after all 75% water. In some corner of the world, a teenage girl of 16 would be falling in love for the first time. She would be seeing the map of the universe in his eyes, she would swear to die while laying in his arms, she would stay up for nights, writing poetry about her lover. When she gets her heartbroken for the first time, she'd be sweeping the floor of her broken pieces. While she cries a river of lament and grief, I'd hope she knows that she's a part of me. Because we are made of people and experiences and the hope is that she understands that every fragment of her heartbreak binds her with the universe, the universe which contains me and her, the universe which claps its arms around everyone. The same universe which has embellished earth with a veil called the sky, the same sky under which you and I coexist.
When I'll meet you again, I'll neither ask for anything nor will complain about you. When I'll meet you again, maybe I'll just want to dissolve in your arms just like the sun dissolves in the sky in the evening. I'll just want you to hold me tight because I've been breaking down bit by bit. I'll just want you to touch me, to fill up the spaces of my fingers with yours, to hold my hand and make me feel at ease. I'll just want you to melt me down because I've been so cold lately and which I don't like at all. When I'll meet you again, I'll not wish for anything else just you. When I'll meet you again, I'll just want everything else to disappear because I'll just want to focus on you, just you. My eyes are longing to see you, my soul needs you and my body craves for your touch, just yours.
I am withering day by day, slowly, it's the kind of wither which is visible just to me, just me. For them, I am blooming, but I am withering day by day. And I'll wither away soon if I'll not get proper nourishment that is you...
Save me, my soul is dying slowly with each passing second.
P.S- I need to write things regardless of everything else. I am grateful for each and everyone of you.