You kept blue roses beside my bed And I still admired them Their fragrance was of honesty But I saw them smirk at me I guess they saw the tragedy Long before it destroyed our hearts I still have them in my black diary I tried to write some poetry in it Masquerading it with beautiful lies But I guess those blue roses Have made it their home That's why no word would pour upon Those sorrow settled pages They don't even wither away Strong enough to carry the pain On one fine night, I finally decided To throw them away or burn the diary But the moment I touched them They brought back the pain & agony And then I understood it all; The pain & sorrow isn't to be dealt that way But is to be felt, learnt and let go To keep it as a reminder of What you've been through And how you made it through.
I sometimes think how do you feel when you listen to those songs that remind you of me. Not the ones where you lose someone you love but the ones where you are reminded of what you did to me. Do you listen them? Or you skip those songs? And if you muster the courage to play them what thoughts do you have? A song that tells that tale from your past and takes you back to that story we both once were a part of. Whose shreds still lie in that graveyard of your barren heart. A song that tells what happens when you break the one who loved you and their trust into pieces. A song that tells you how that person held themself up and just watched you leave without looking back even for once. A song that tells you how every night their tears worked to bring them back to life. A song that haunts you how they've healed, learnt to let go and found their lost happiness. A song that warns you that whatever you did to them, no matter how miniscule will come back to you.
The thing with growing up is, you begin to realise... you aren't special. You aren't going to rattle authorities and topple governments one day. You aren't going to invent something amazing or discover something magnificent. You aren't going to change lives of millions or set a new path for generations to follow. It's realizing that most of your time is going to be spent on chairs... in offices and restaurants and roadside stalls... discussing those who make a difference. It's realising that you will not be spending your life travelling the globe. A week long annual family vacation is all you can afford... financially and with respect to time. It's realising that the spike in price of onions and flour will bother you more than the fall in price of a luxury car. Growing up is seeing the magic fade before your eyes. It is witnessing the fall of a dream... bit by bit. It is silently accepting defeat... just to retain peace. Growing up is being tired. Growing up... is looking forward to the end... of everything.
My heart space was raped. I woke up numb, with a stinging pain. In my sleep they came with chisels and hammers and spade scratched and burned and tried every brutal means to erase the names... of everything that was dear to me. I woke up ashamed, enraged, with a gnawing ache. Empty, traumatized. I kept staring blankly into the nothingness ahead of me... and also behind. Everything had been erased. I was back into vacuum, alone, afraid.
Everytime that you ask me, what have I been up to these days... I don't know what to say. I haven't been doing anything it seems. Nothing special, I mean. I didn't learn any skill. I didn't create anything. Haven't been talking to any of my old friends. Haven't been reading any book or searching for a guide or a guru. Didn't watch any movie or series until the end. I was invited to some events... but didn't go. Because I couldn't pretend. Maybe I'm living the same day again and again. A xerox of the same story translated in multiple languages. Life lately has been a strange palette of colors merging and flowing... to create hues I didn't know existed. I've been curling in... willingly, happily... maybe. There's nothing on the outside I could show you... Nothing I could present with the glitter of filters and hashtags. But I've been uprooting cities within. Saving forests from fires and cleaning all the streams. There's so much going on in my silence... I don't know if words could do any justice to all those ways in which I've been dying and living, everyday. I've been up-to nothing exciting these days... if you see it from where you are. Come a little closer, if you believe you're brave... and I'll give you a glimpse of the storms I've been acknowledging, orchestrating, editing and surviving behind this veil of a stagnant state.