Have you ever missed someone when they were right in front of you? Has your mind wandered off to far off times when things were different? But now their words don't reach your brain and all you want to do is scream that you miss them, Over and over again.
"It's all in my head," you justify with yourself. Sure, you talk to them everyday and have not had a disagreement for as long as you can remember, But there is this eerie feeling in your bones which you can't shake off no matter how hard you try. Something has shifted between both of you. Maybe too imperceptible and trivial to put an exact finger on it, but there's no room to deny it. You both realize this but are too afraid to admit, hoping against hope that this is all your imagination. But now, the laughter has become forced and the jokes repetitive. You've both run out of topics you could talk about and the silences have turned uncomfortable. You find yourself constantly reminding yourself that they are your topmost priority and it doesn't come naturally to you anymore. The warm memories do not scare away the dementors on a particularly dark night and although it scares you, you know there's not much you can do about it. So you both go round and round, trying hard to avoid the elephant in the room. After all, what more choice do you have rather than acting as if all is right and hope things get back to the way the had been?
The sky today resembles the day they first met. The shy sun peeking from behind cotton candy clouds floating in an azure ocean. Last night's vodka makes her head pound as she tries to open her eyes, And her hands register a strange vacancy on the other side of the bed. Figures morph before her, Not exactly figures, rather shadows. Shadows of the previous night's strife. Her ears ring with what was supposed to be their final conversation. Her heart aches with the finality of the situation. The dead phone screen shows her a tear streaked visage. She tries hard to remember the exact moment When they started fighting against each other Instead of having each other's backs while fighting against the world.
The girl in the apartment in front of her tiptoes into her room. She locks the door and dials a familiar number, A number that has long been imprinted into her memory like the back of her hand. A pimply boy with a large mop of hair, And an even larger abyss of love for his first ever love, picks up the phone. They are careful to keep their voices low, And eager to hear the voice of their love. Stealing occasional glances toward the locked door With a maths book open in front lest a restless brother or a mischievous sister demanded to be let in, They build a future of their own in their mind. A future where they are adults, and in love with each other. A future where they don't need to make excuses to meet each other.
Many miles away, a kindergartener celebrates his victory over his dad in a friendly game of basketball, While his old man pretends to bawl his eyes out. His laughter reminds you of chimes in a windy day, And if you looked closely, you'll see the pride in his father's eyes. His mother cheers on from the patio. Her heart swells with love for the two men in her life. Both of them fill her with joys previously foreign. And she sends a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens above, Remembering that day when she walked down the aisle, Josh, then four, following as a flower boy. Someday she'll make him understand what a stepdad really means, Till then she hopes that he follows her advice to always give love a chance.
In another part of the world, the boy sees a shooting star. He closes his eyes and makes a wish into the universe. A wish as simple and old as life itself, A wish to be loved back by the person who means the world to him. So he wished for this and prayed that his wish was not lost in the sea of countless others. But something was different that night. Maybe it was the magic in the cold air that intoxicated him, Or maybe it was one of the many secret ways of universe unknown to mankind, He mustered the courage to finally text the girl, The girl who was a regular character in his dreams. The message was short and simple, unlike his feelings for her. "Hey I know this sounds crazy, but I love you, a lot. And though you're too good for me, the matters of the heart do not bow down to logic. It would make me the happiest man in the world if you decided to love me back." The silence that followed was the most excruciating seven minutes of his life. "Then let's make our love story the greatest," she blushed while clicking send.
For long I tried to capture the memories in perfect frames. Almost running with a net, chasing a rare butterfly, Trying to catch it before it flies away forever. I struggled to get the perfect lighting or correct contrast, Constantly anxious, lest I forget the experience due to the lack of a memorabilia. It took me long to realize that in the process of trying to pause them into stills, I failed to admire the fleeting beauty that lies in their transience. I failed to live then.
I had never shared your fascination with the sky, No matter how hard I tried to. But I listened in awe when you explained to me Things I didn't quite understood, but loved hearing nevertheless.
You told me how the night sky was merely a huge blanket, woven with threads of magic, Guarding us from a world unimaginable, lying beyond it. I could not wrap my head around the thought when you casually explained That we were simultaneously looking at the past and the future. How eventually, we become a part of this very sky, a trinket on a Christmas tree, Returning home, after a long tiring journey as a human.
I listened with my mouth agape, As if I could almost see the screws of your beautiful mind turning in perfect symphony, Their workings intricate, indecipherable by a novice like me. Myriad emotions and thoughts storming inside me as we lay beneath a canopy of stars, I wanted to understand everything about that sky you loved and held so dear. But was scared to ask questions lest I hindered your stream of thoughts.
So we sat there, enamoured in comfortable silence, With you drawing imaginary tangents in the dark sky, joining one star to the other, Almost like the game of connect-the-dots that came with the newspaper every Wednesday back in childhood, And me sitting next to you, admiring the glimmer in your eyes, We both were looking at someone we loved. And in that moment, there was no place I'd rather be.
I don't exactly remember how or who started it, But I distinctly remember the taste of your lips, remnant of the chocolate dessert with a hint of peppermint. We kissed with the stars as a witness to our love, And I took the bright moonlight as a sign of a happier future. We looked up to see a shooting star, Closing my eyes, I wished for you.
Yesterday brought one of those nights when the warm memories fail to scare away the coldness within, I tried to find comfort in your thick jumper but the chill made me shiver. Looking at old polaroids that hold your happy smile, I found myself questioning whether it had been me imagining the entire time, Mindless, desperate for comfort, I found myself walking the steps to the place I knew I'd find you in.
Not much had changed since the first time we had been there. Sure there were a few trees which weren't present two summers back, And someone's father had installed a small swing set at the far end, But the sky, it seemed the same with maybe a few new stars adorning it.
I knew you saw me then, I knew you saw me from up above, trying to figure out which one of them were you. I combed my mind for forgotten detail disguinging as an untangled mass of useless trivia, Anything, everything, that could help me identify you.
My eyes were wet against my wish of putting up a brave front before you And as I sat there huddled up, surrounded by the ghosts of our old selves, The moonlight grew brighter, And I knew it was a signal from you. I looked up to see a shooting star, Closing my eyes, I wished for you.
Have you ever wondered whether it was your fate or your destiny that your life has turned out a certain way? I certainly do. I think about it all the time. I haven’t had it easy...... one would say I have all the material comforts one can possibly think of and so what would give me the right to crib about having borne strife. It is just that I’ve always been different, never one of those who could meld in a crowd.
People don’t like different- people feel threatened by anyone who refuses to conform and be one of them. That very fact has been the basis of my being lonely in life. Not that I mind my own company, I don’t. But sometimes it feels alone and depressing to not be able to be a part of a whole. Why couldn’t I be like others, I often wonder.
Loneliness leads one towards dark thoughts and depression. That is not a nice, comfortable place to be in. People often think leaving someone alone with their thoughts is the best solution for people who are different. It is not. Every soul looks towards acceptance - towards bonds and familiarity. This blank space that should have been filled with people gets occupied by foul thoughts that only drive people further away .
When you start doubting everything around you, your own mind becomes your biggest enemy. How does one deal with that then? It’s a tough fight- a fight which has to be fought all alone and for a long time before the stormy seas settle into gentle waves.
Is it selfish that sometimes I feel I should have been awarded laurels for having had a hard life? I think it is and this makes it difficult to accept oneself completely. It is an uncomfortable thought process - one that is both pompous and weird. There are so many people in the world who do not have half of what I do and are fighting much graver wars than I am. But there will, I think always be a part of me who expects some sort of acknowledgement for not having had it easy.
I am that leaf on a tree who decided to turn purple instead of the normal green like all the others around me were. They look at me like I’m some sort of disease - a pariah. Am I, really? Maybe I am, maybe that is the basis of my existence. Maybe this is why I have been given both the courage and will to fight against all odds. Maybe being this “pariah” is who I am and probably will always be. I’m still learning to accept all parts of me. I hope that one day I am able to accept this facet too.
And maybe that day I won’t spend my time wondering whether it was destiny or fate as to why life has turned out that way it has.
when i close in and zone out bricks facinate me and i position myself against the wall of all my insecurites cemented with smiles that should never have existed and adorned with hooks that now prick my back as i very meticulously start building a cage with no windows around my promonotary self with walls so tall that nobody dares to climb and basements so deep that my roots reach wide upto everything discarded and decaying; i build till my arms hurt and my tears go dry hatch the roof and bolt it from the inside; and as i sit in this enclosed room of everything i've ever feared i feel the closest to myself vulnerable and holding up tears waiting for my walls to go weak and fall and pin me down so i can collect the debris of my fallen self and begin building again the whole of me, that i am too naive to know territories from the parts of me that i'd never dare to show
my smile going wide i know what i feel witnessing the red sunrise i'm feeling relieved breathing and sighing the zephyr caressing my mood making me feel pretty It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good
my smile smashing the face, of the obstacles in my way my heart fluttering slays, kinder and braver it grows everyday flowers blooming they attract uninvited bees it's a new dawn it's a new day It's a new life for me and I'm feeling good i know what to feel
self doubt used to play with emotions for fun, striving to trap my soul, used to cry at the midnight thinking i'm the one, who is at fault on the whole finding solace in the pool of my tears, you know what i mean in the end i knew i'm the one supposed to help myself, so setting my soul free for me, for me i challenge the world it's a new day it's a new dawn it's a new life for me and I'm feeling good
self love blooming falling sunshine on my face, as rays and beautiful lines i believe in myself, because i shine like the star i used to call mine i know how i feel it's a new day it's a new dawn it's a new life and i'm feeling good for me, i'm feeling so good for me
P.S. I've been obsessed with this song I saw on a bgt audition randomly strolling on YouTube day before yesterday and then I saw the video in my bio and it made me genuinely so egoistically happy and peaceful last night that I replaced the lyrics with my own. Whole write-up written when I was listening to this song. I got inspired after reading @say_me_krish submission to the prompt by writersbay. #songc#kimo
The lines used are, From the song, I'm feeling good by Michael Bublé which is I guess is another version of the same song by Nina Simone. it's a new day it's a new dawn it's a new life and I'm feeling good
Dawn (n.) : the time when the midnight demons run away, scared
Dawn breaks into a smile wide as a sunrise I await for the dawn to witness with you Putting aside curtains of darkness I let dawn inside Dawn drowns everything into positivity, including your indelible blues
1. The way my friend gently intertwined her fingers through mine whenever I was lost in thoughts , coaxing me back to where we were right then. I didn't know I loved this till the day she moved to another time zone.
2. The color of a scar right before it heals. Dark brown like the earth to which my body owes its life. I didn't know I loved this till the day an invisible scar was dealt to me and I never could find a sign to know when it would heal.
3. The voice of a river brewing with passion and intensity eager to flow and flow and flow like the currents of life herself. I didn't know I loved this till my heart had to remain like a puddle in one place , wanting , aching , dying almost to flow into anything but itself.
4. The texture of a worn out poetry book from high school scribbled with the interpretations the teacher had alluded to in a clear vociferous tone. I didn't know I loved this till the day I had to craft a poem out of time and all I had as a reference was my blank heart.
5. The hours spent playing loudly , ruggedly , joyously with no intention of either winning or going back home. I didn't know I loved this till the day the game of life became one with well specified rules to attain just one goal and yet all my mind sought for was home.
6. The day I fell asleep on a friend's shoulder unaware that she might be uncomfortable or that my weight would be a burden on her body. I didn't know I loved this till the day she fell asleep on my shoulder and all I could feel was a calm love for the moment when our burdens became one and hence null.
7. A crowded market with the swarm of people brushing past me reminding me of a flood of heartbeats beating in an orchestra each merging into the other I didn't know I loved this till the day solitude showed me that the true purpose of a heartbeat was after all in resonating with another.
8. The path leading to my grandparents home. I didn't know I loved this till the day I had to walk on it knowing that the same home it led to didn't have my grandpa within it anymore.
9. The sky right before it rains. I didn't know I loved this till the day I wanted to shed all the clustered grief within me onto the ground of the world.
10. Finally , the child within me who hears all the cacophony of the world yet remains singing her own tiny tune out of hope. I didn't know I loved this till the day the only thing I could return to for solace was this song within me.
p.s : if you guys have things you didn't know you loved please do write about it cause I would love to read. Tag it with #thingsididntknowiloved
This is hypocrisy. Personally speaking I don't/rarely feel good after crying, but yes it helps because once I cry, the pessimistic thoughts start to disappear from my nihilistic mind as my attention is stolen by my breakdown. Sad.
#tears the challenge is I guess "tears have" but I might be wrong '-'
Time is ticking. Moments are passing. Days are flying by. Months are crashing to a new year. And yet we stand still, smile and cry and breathe out as if it's the most difficult task in the world.