Time, When Things Happened

You've been deceived, you've been disappointed. You've been abandoned, you've been ditched. They called you weird, termed you a total left out. Criticized you, blamed you for starting the silence, refused to understand your condition. Didn't listen to you, been biased. Left you under the rubble of a mess they dragged you in, and walked off blameless. You've had months of sheer worry, constant drained feeling, mind totally occupied, unidentified feelings boiling in your chest, questions taking birth and most of all, the anxiety for what-will-happen. --But you know you've always had this tendency to actually enjoy every moment filled with every sort of emotion whether it be joy, anger, despair, anxiety or whatsoever. You've always believed in your self-created beliefs, you've always thought things and possibilities which sound odd to who ever you'll tell; and for these exact reasons, you somehow don't really mind it all. You've forgiven the people, you've started to overlook what they say, you sit and listen but don't speak much. You've made your choice and picked the uncertainty yourself, for yourself. You've gotten immune to whatever is happening; not that you don't still think a lot, not that you still at times fail to believe what you wasn't supposed to know, not that you've gotten over the feeling of uncertainty, but somewhere, you like it. You like this feeling. You know, that whatever happened and is happening, will be worth remembering after a year or two or three. Therefore, you're living it and letting everything happen. Making the wrong choice, playing odd with your tracks, wasting time over thinking too much, enjoying the uncertainty, showing off your feelings--cause you know this is one of the many lanes you're crossing. Sooner or later, this will pass, this will end; and eventually there would come a time when you'd be standing to start a whole new walk on a whole new lane. Would you not then, want to look at the previous journey and sigh with a smile.?

Its May, Again

Its May. My heart is heavy; not with the pain, neither with sorrow. Its an unidentified heaviness.. Or may be I'm familiar with it; its contradictory. So much has changed, or may be nothing has changed.

Its May. The summer clouds are back, fluffy and thick, yet weightless. The wind is warm again, but its pleasant, filling me with nostalgia.

Its May, and its only now, that I don't really mind the sun; for reasons unknowingly known.

The same trees, identical to the images I possess from that time. Its the same journey, or may be its no more..

Like every year, I'm back once again, sitting under the shades of the trunks of the slim trees. All of us. I remember the sun, the blowing of warm pleasant wind, the clouds, the open ground, the rush, us --more clearly than ever at this time of the year. It marks the accuracy. Everything is the same, but everything has changed..

Me, my words, my priorities, my boundaries, my circle and most probably, my lane as well..

The unchanged change is telling me, its May, again.

Untitled

I look around and see different people, having different stories.

Stories happen. Every day comes with a whole new story. Your own story; and the people you see, their story. The more you'll try relating yourself with their story, the better will you understand.

However, the reason why I’m writing this post is really vague. Ever came across that urge to write, even though you’re totally out of thoughts –proper sensible thoughts –yet still, you want to sit and pen down every single chunk that’s coming into your head and its hell frustrating when you try to digest back those random circling thoughts!

Circling thoughts remind me, of how utterly tired have I become! Tired of so-many-things; tired, of everything.

The judgmental-heads would come to comment  criticize this ‘negative approach’ of mine. So to tell them, I’m not being a pessimist or some sort of looser; but the walls that I have around which I’ve built just cause of people like you out there, they happen to collapse and the concealed spills out..

What exactly am I tired of, you cannot know now, since I’m not particular about it either.

Yes, the particularities are yet to hit my head; and when they will, I won’t miss to mention them. But just to provide you with a little hint and intimate epilogue; there has been a lot happening –with me, and around me –which has again brought me to the verge of nothingness!

And again, those who’ll take the gist that I am considering my unidentifiable conflicts as world’s biggest issues, and that I’m just too insensitive to others’ problems and troubles –well, how much I wish to rip their head off just with my words and loud expression for their lame and pathetic judgment! However though, I would do no such thing but tell them enough that since they do-NOT know me; Yes, YOU donot know me, hence, you should avoid judging me just on the basis of what I appear to be!!!

This triggers a whole new topic on which I could write and write and write. I’m surely coming back on this, for how much I hate this society which I’m a part of. The mindless trends they’ve bred, and I am being victimized!

Sadly, I have no escape. Like always, I’ve ended up in this battle with a thrashing defeat on myself before society and religion.

Sighhh.

Fiction: I'd Like To See Her Again

On the far side of the park in the pouring rain, she sat at the vacant bench.

See her face, what do you see?

She fell in love; in the wrong time, in the wrong place, with the wrong person.

But could she be blamed? Since love is inevitable. It just happens; in the oddest time, with an extremely wrong person. And fate is always there to make you realize that.

She wouldn’t wince, no matter how sharp is the blow of this heavy rain falling upon her. It was like, the sharper was the blow; the more unreal would she take the pain to be. The more drenched she’d be, the more real will she find her own existence. It was like, she’s trying to make sure if she is alive or not. She was trying to put the fallen things together; herself.

Even in this dim light, I managed to see those bruises of despair on her face being dissolved into smooth lines of resignation and acceptance.

That moment, she seemed totally drowned in desolation, absolutely lifeless and dejected; puzzled and lost. And this moment, her anguish was transformed into ease. It was obvious, that she has finally submitted to her ironical fate. She has successfully put the fallen together –herself; leave alone the uncertain duration; because sooner or later, she was going to fall apart, again.

Was she crying? Or were they sigh of submission? I know not. I wanted to go up and tell her how courageous she is, to sit by her side and tap her shoulder for her braveness and endurance. I wanted to tell her how proud I am of her; of course I didn’t know here, but I felt this unknown connection between her and myself. A very powerful connection for that profound instance; because her story, was pretty much my story.

I looked up, and she was gone. When did she go, I don’t know. Where did she go, this I don’t know either; but she wasn’t there anymore.

I was left alone, with a feeling of regret to have missed a chance of talking with somebody whose story was in union with mine.

Her face revealed a story, a heart wrenching story; story of love, story of pain, story of despair, story of loss, story of separation, story of dejection –story of contentment.

I wish to God, to see her again. Yes, I’d like to see her again.

 

You know, fate could be really brutal at times. For some, it begins with misery and ends in happiness; but for some, the misery gets worst towards the end.