Posted in Musings

Worth it.

On some days when you want to simply peek at the far corner of the road, you should simply do it even when you know that it is a dead end and that it has nothing but thorns, thistles and bulrushes and nothing of high towering trees and low-lying flowers that can mellow your heart. I say, you should walk down there and do justice to your heart’s desire to peek. Just go, stand there and return if you want. If not, you can just stand there and decide whenever you want to walk back.

On some days it is simply okay to travel down far, not knowing the destination, not knowing your way back and the darkness that will hover in very soon. It is okay to keep hoping, laugh a little louder, bask in the sun a while longer and yet know in your heart that a mighty lash of rain awaits you that would leave you rolling into the oceans afar off and drowning in a very short while. It is okay to pick flowers as you go, kick at the stones, look at the skies sloshed with colour and sprout hopes in your heart that the far end is not a dead end after all. You can believe that the distance holds astounding things for you that will make your smile last a lifetime and that the far end is full of alyssum ground covers that blankets the dreams of your life. You can go on to believe that the person by your side is a mist that will drift above your life forever, for a lifetime maybe. You can believe all that you want and you can walk on and on. Because I believe that some places/some seasons/some people are worth breaking your heart for despite the reality that drapes it in vivid, bright colours.

Posted in Musings

Wild flowers and vine

To me it sounds crazy.
First for the fact that I even thought of writing this down and second for the mere thought of you lying down far, far away not having the slightest, faintest clue that somebody somewhere is putting down her wild and mismatched feelings for him.
Hallo, this is craziness in its purest form ever.
Ten years ago on a strange Sunday morning there grew wild flowers and vines on the walls of my mind for someone I barely knew and yet ten years thence the flowers and vines continue to grow as though watered by a supernatural force on every other day I noticed they were being taken care of. Why, when I see you I still feel the butterflies in the depths of my stomach and the flowers yield fruits and the vines grow thicker by the day. When exactly did I water, nurture or care to even look at this wild garden that grew within me, that which I named after you and for you. I am trying hard to figure out when exactly. The date, the time, the extend, the reasons and why again?
This grows wilder now.
Ten years is a long time and considering the number of times I have seen you, these flowers and vines aren’t supposed to grow any wilder instead die away a long time ago. Well, I did grow other gardens that I genuinely took care of and watered all day and night with a rigour that was so true and pure. Yet they dried away and gave way to parched, dry grounds but this one stayed on and wild and fresh when I cared not to care for. The last time I saw you in the distance from a space that was close enough to me, the butterflies did flutter and the flowers did bloom a little more. I thought that garden died but it lived and waxed a little bit more strength and energy.
Do you have flowers and vines grow for me?
I bet not, I somehow am sure about that. Why would you care to think of me? You probably had better flowers and vines grow on the walls of your mind that you have taken care of and loved. When you see me, you probably want to rip and dig me out from the grounds of your mind and never think of me again. You probably look at me because I look, because you know I have wild flowers and vines that pop out of my head and that go crazy when I see you. Or do you care when I viciously observe you from safe distances and subtly look for you amidst the many people that crowd and gather? Do you or is it just my mind playing tricks on me again, giving me away to think that you care too?
Again- this is craziness in its purest form.
You are probably pursuing madly after someone right now. You are probably depressed, sad or alone. And yet far in the distance here I am penning down my thoughts for someone I think I love, for someone I would consider worthy for the time I spend over thinking thoughts like this.
With love,
The girl you barely know
Posted in Musings

Feelings of Nothing-ness

Have you been there?
Days when all you do is look forward for that one something that might whisk away the bad air around you and possibly put you in a better mood and largely give you reasons to be hopeful and happy for another day? All you do is wait for that one something, marking the days on your calendar and counting hours and minutes to somehow live in the happiest moment you think it will be. Somewhere deep, deep down you kind of know, maybe hope that this something that you so much look forward to might possibly, hopefully enough fail your depression, defeat your sluggish mind, like dementia make you forget your past and all the unfortunes that you have had for a prolonged period of time and somehow inject some energy within you. A little ounce maybe.
Well, it’s not like your unfortunate-ness has given you away this time but you did get that something you looked forward to, maybe that one competition you looked forward to win, a new job that you hoped to get, that article you wrote last week getting published in a well known newspaper today or simply just getting a new dress or sweets from the best shop in town. But now that you did get your most looked forward something you feel nothing. Just nothing. Simply nothing. Where was all the joy that you thought would brim up in you? Where’s all the contentment you thought might fill your mind by this time and where’s all the hopes and sureties of defeating your depression and anxiety for once by looking forward to get this something? Did it all flow away even before you delved into it? Or did it just not come to you? What was it? Why wasn’t that feeling of excitement and joyfulness not flowing in and out in rushes? Why?
But why?
Posted in Musings

Some genuinity

This is genuine.
Were you by any chance an addictive drug I consumed when I was on the highway of life with the wind and rain lashing against me?
Were you by any chance my battle field where I began something so stressful and draining as this?
Why am I still writing about you when I was supposed to budge and walk miles ahead from where I was stranded?
Was there any chance that if the sun on our skies was brighter we would have possibly seen through each other’s worthfulness?
There are high probabilities that the mist was stronger than ever and the fog filled in my eyes I could hardly see through. Or was that in your eyes?
Why am I standing here when I was supposed to have walked miles into my rather placid days ahead?
Why am I still tick tick writing down on my phone when I have hardly figured out ways to text better and store well in my new phone because I had to give up that other phone. It had memories that tore me apart every morning when I woke up?
Why am I still thinking about you when all I did was to get you out of my damn head?
I changed a phone, a lifestyle, a complete personality…..why then haven’t I changed my rusty mind that has clinging pieces of rusty memories of you all over that I hardly put the singlest of efforts to move it out for the new ones to take its place?
Why am I unwilling to stop writing about you when I know I have erased every trace of you from the walls, corners and shades of my heart?
If I were to stop writing, maybe I would run out of words and ideas for my journal,page or blog. You stayed in the racks of my mind like a dictionary full of words and biblichor that I somehow loved to smell every time I opened it. Redolent in its own addictive sense.
Posted in Musings

“Stop being dramatic”

This is a dramatic play with words. I jotted this down when I sat ruminating about something that triggered a little pain and frustration.
So I was being dramatic?
And what did you have to care to term me “Dramatic” and my ways a little too “Neurotic”. Get out of my way when you feel that pulling urge to judge, churn and term me in ways Oh Boy you have no idea you are causing hurt!
I was being dramatic?
Weren’t you the one who in ways messy and tangled messed up in my territory having the audacity to give me labels of all sorts, colours and styles? Why do you barge in here to examine my ways and draw conclusions?
I was being dramatic?
You never know, I will never know. You called me dramatic when you yourself was dramatic about the mess I was caught up in, painting yourself bold and tough beneath your rather plain dramatic self. Why would you think of it if you hadn’t had it in mind which quite explains why you see me “Dramatic”.