http://www.flickr.com/photos/itsallaboutmich/505840480/in/set-72157594495807098/

"With one glance he can make her fall
With one single smile he can fill her entire world
With one little word she awakens
In a way that only she can comprehend
He is but a shadow, darkening her bright skies
And for him, she would gladly live in darkness
Happy in the light he creates in her.
Maybe no one will ever “get it”
But maybe no one needs to
Maybe, just maybe, half the happiness is in the wondering
Because, before reality, comes dreams
And only in dreams does our heart speak its soul."

(Courtesy Flickr)

Diagnosed with inertia ?

so used to sleeping late, that i cant sleep now despite desperately needing to. today was good. not literally, for we were sick... but perhaps because after a whole painful morning, at least i got to spend the day with sire. we made The trip to the hospital, got tested for the dreaded flu, and are hopefully negative.. he's still been sick and i pray he ll be alright by tomorrow. im tired of being sick myself. its been 2 months of constant medicines and higher antibiotics, some or the other one after the other hope it ll all be over soon, and we ll be okie.

i suddenly found shanil's journal today... flipped through it after 4 long years.. and strangely felt nothing. its so weird how things change, that time makes us evolve, turns our life over and over until its a series of events meant to have been. i read and saw through the eyes of a grown woman today ... all i was.. all she was. two stupid young girls trying to walk into life, fretting on small things that seemed anything but small back then. pages of jargon... that was a heartload of pain years ago.. looked like pile of bullshit tonight. theres something so tragic about being children... when we think enormously of every event we fall into - big or small. because its new. because no one told us it would happen next. no one told us to expect the worst. no one told us why.
i ve hated myself for being a doormat so many years of my life.. until the summer of 2008, and i put myself to the exile i thought would ease my anger that piled up for all the long years. the self imposed exile it seemed, which was rather obviously otherwise forced. ts good in a way things happened that happened. sometimes its best to let go. we eventually fall into Something that heals us for once and for all. and then there are no more regrets. then there is no more suffering.

the whole shanil-episode seemed like a dream today. pretty much like it never happened. all that humiliation seems to have faded at last. all the blames. love is a strange thing. one night sire gently explained to me, the myth of the best-friend concept. . and i had realized how aptly it fit the situations in my entire life. people only care about what matters to them. and leave out all the rest. i dont regret anymore. i couldnt be the punching bag anymore; couldnt anymore spare my shoulder for them to fire guns. . and i could take no more blames. its true i still think of her and varun. . the 2 people i once trusted the most. the former who always tried to mother me, the latter i always mothered. . but then captive souls we were. lunatics in our own ways. and one world can never shelter more than one. now, thinking of them somehow always leaves me with a strange empty feeling which vanishes as fast as it erupts. i always knew i wasnt The people person.. i ve always had a variety of friends. . one completely opposite of the other... a set of strange vile people who're wonderful in themselves. but can in no way co-exist. and i guess i was tired of being the bridge. of being the bullet proof jacket.

they say shit happens.

 but i realise how perfectly the single presence of one man altered my entire life. i understand now how dominant love is. . how happy it makes me to finally give, while being given even more in return. it somehow gives a whole new meaning to my dont-expect concept because with each passing day.. despite not expecting, i get more than the day past. and love was all i truly ever needed.

no more. and no less..
and the lord answered all my questions with sire.

where's the faith.

I can go days without talkin. it was so simple back when i lived with my parents. i would go to college.... say not a word all day except when compelled to. would always go on wild goose chases on such days on my bike. . bunk a class or two.. sometimes the whole day..... and drive mindlessly around town. on extra pathetic days, a single bowl sundae made so much of difference. or a coffee. and i would still go home to warm lunch mum always kept waitin for me on the dining table. i always had this thing of binging on stressful days. im never hungry on such days... but if i can find something good to eat.... i go stress eating until im ready to explode. never exploded yet.... but since i left home.. there's barely anything to binge on. . maybe thats one of the vilest of reasons i hopelessly obsess with sire.

mum dad never fussed much when all i did for days together, was stay in my room, my songs, books and sketchbooks sprawled on my bed.. and i sprawled somewhere on the floor, with scraps of paper with all kind of shit all around me. and then i'd be missin from my room late nights. and at 3am dad, sometimes mum, would excrutiatingly (raging and fuming) climb up to the roof. . . only to find me missing again. and to their horror (which somehow they learned to accept) they always found me on the parapet, my legs dangling down, staring at the world. . lost doing what i did best. dreaming.

they hated it i know there would be times i would make an effort. to talk. even though they'd be pissed.... they wouldnt say more. i thought it was part of growing up. to want to do my own thing. to not want to talk. to show no effort at talkin or likin people if i didnt want to. i thought it would pass. mum thought the same, i knw. but now its like an incurable disease... thats gettin worse with passing time. she understands. there're times i call her all day, with nothing to say.... and i just hear her voice, listen to dad rustling his papers in his study. . and i feel so stupidly happy and contented. pretty much like eating when im sad. or going for long walks past midnight so i can straighten my thoughts. like seeing sire's face every mornin so i can breathe normally. but no matter how much mum can read my thoughts, she wouldnt know any of this, the way it is. i could never tell her of my suffering this world, i could never tell her i cry for her at 4 am some nights when i cant sleep. . and i miss quietly sneaking into her room at night so i could slip into her blanket and snuggle by her feet. the safe feeling and the warmth.... that i now find only in sire.

there is so much of suffering. and i always just have my issues to bother me. there are so many people who havent half of what im blessed with. family, education, love, access to money, medication, sarcasm, sense of humor, patience, faith. . yet, i take my family for granted, waste my chance at formal education thinking it would ruin what i need to live on, use my sarcasm to kill the patience, and hurl the sense of humor to fuel sarcasm.. shine my most cynical dagger at faith when faced with adversity. i brim with anger. and then brim with tears. and when sire sees it i feel like a damned fool. and he sees it all. and i know he understands. understands my whims, my antisocial almost psychopathic nature.... my wayward willful and stubborn self.... and yet he loves me for all i am. and for all im not.

i was scared of the dark when i was little. it was terrible. going to the bathroom at night while i'd drag my brother out of his room to "keep guard" outside.. and then shrieking madly like i were dying everytime he would turn off the lights from outside. SUCKED. its so stupid. but some nights, i still like to go to bed with the lights on. i feel safe. i hate myself for it. . but i suppose thats all im really scared of. and watching my loved ones suffer. i could trade places to save myself from that fear of having to watch helplessly.

i was afraid today. thinkin of yesterday.. sitting beside sire in class.... all day.... and while comin back, i could hold it back no more. theres so much to know in this world. they say experience counts. . but then whats the point... its like walking on an endless stretch of road, with people burnin on stakes on one side, and another set of people on the other side plotting endlessly how to pull you down. . get you on to the crucifix .. only to finally head together to the same fate that awaits us. im a sinner in my own ways. i know i can wait and say nothing. . and burn on one of those stakes. i only wonder what would happen the day this string snaps. im only afraid of setting the world on fire if any of this touched my loved ones. cause i know i would live to see it.

Distant Dreams ~

". . and what about love?" She asked.

"A mistake", he replied.

standing at a vantage point, its almost a cruel wonder to watch the world go by. its rather silly, to notice how each person has a different face than the other. . but more incredible still, a whole different being than the other. a cruel realization indeed. we're so arrogant, arent we ? so presumptuous. its almost a certainty for each of us that there practically exists no other world, except our own. everything ceases to matter, but the people in our own lives, the deeds we do or encounter. . the words we speak, or hear spoken to us. . and we only make choices, going by our whims alone.

"it doesnt matter what she wants. i dont want it."

"i dont care what he says. i dont want to hear it."

"it doesnt matter." 

nothing matters in the end. except just the clever one-liner some ancient person quoted to be our sole purpose in life, "The pursuit of happiness." 

a pursuit indeed. we often end up where we begin. gaining as much as we've lost. and losing almost all we'd gained. they say "experiences" matter. . they say, love is the food for soul, almost a silent power that takes over the mind and the heart. a power that could tame a beast, and set free a captive soul, give wings to everything good that exists in the world. a power that could bring back life, or the will to live again. . a power that, in so many fairytales, turned demons back into angels. 

but then i wake up, and  wonder if all these were true "experiences" that people faced. or is it all just a sham. but i still feel the love. every night i wait for sleep, the abyss of thoughts keeping me the company i sometimes abhor. and fear. the same flow of thoughts that makes me want to fly some other times. . . but brings me back to the dark each time, no matter what. and then i cling to the words. to the "experiences". and build up the four walls of those fairytales that practically sums up my entire world for me. a world of make believe. . where i get all the love i want. and i do what i want. where there's no room for wishful thinking, but every color and every ounce of beauty, to substitute all the hurt i find outside. a place where i can drench in the pouring rain on a sunny morning, talk to the ghosts in my head, run wild on clouds. . and throw my head back and laugh at all the vile truth the other world has to offer. . nothing but the ugly. a world where love is a sham. a harbinger of suffering in return for each lived moment of happiness, and all the unlived dreams for more. a seeming haven of peace and safety where after each bend in the road, bullets fly, bombs explode and blood is shed. they say, love brings together 2 bodies and 2 souls, unites them into one. . they say it out of "experience". . but then why do some others only use love for an excuse to variate all forms of basal pleasures. almost like a vacation each weekend. different destinations. both geographical and anatomical. a sham.

but then i wake up. . and wonder if i'm alive. if i'm one of those ghosts in my head. a misfit. . a vile spirit devoid of feeling and sense; devoid of sanity. forbidden by 4 thin walls to "experience" the truth. and the words keep flooding. . and then nothing matters in the end, but that hopeless pursuit. 

Sweet November.

June '09

"Change is constant. But it hurts always somehow.. Does that mean hurt is constant ?!"

Several years pass. But one fine sunday you walk into the subway and find yourself standing face to face with him. You go to a party, and you're happy. . But a single song starts a battle, takes you away. Takes you back suddenly to a faraway sunny August morning by a lake.

"Tell me miss, is there any place in your city that isn't beautiful ?!"

And it all brings back with it that heartload of hurt and humiliation, a part of your life in waiting gone vain; before you know more you've cried another silent tear veiled by your smiles. Its so easy to hide from the world sometimes. . and no one ever knows anything. All you do is turn your face and look like you're in a hurry, or pretend you've dust in your eyes. "Excuse me, I've to make a call !" And a discreet wiping of the moistness.

But he always knows. He who found you to live again. . who was there for real when you least expected any form of goodness. . . And you know he is one person you imagined nothing about. . unlike several other people you met before and were proved so wrong by then, each time. He gave himself to you the way he is. And you gave yourself like you gave no one. He who saved you from the dark. He can always tell by your voice that you're unhappy, or worried, or angry or just preoccupied. He won't ask more than twice, but the concern stays in his eyes, in his voice. A single touch of the hand. . and you know how much he loves you. "You can trust me. You know that, right ?"

Thats all it takes. That single look in his eyes, a touch of his hand in yours. And you realize how lucky you've been to have found a new world in this man. . A world that would always be your home. Always shelter you in his love. I'm lucky. It leaves me dazzled to see this man walking beside me, holding my hand through it all. . knowing he'd always be there, no matter what. It gives me all the strength I always lacked. . The love in a way I never had. . It is surreal when I think of it. How the Lord has his ways to give us the answers we seek. Until a point He leaves you shattered beyond repair. . and then sends across his angels to watch over you. Like He sent the Phantom to save me.

With each passing day everything else has been fading. Except you. . And all our time together in the past one year. You gave me an entire lifetime to live by, within less than a year. The summer is nearly over, and we made it through not seeing each other for over 100days. A feat !

Changes are inevitable. But its more like a circle I guess. . after each form of suffering, we eventually do find the love. . and with it, the Peace. The sun shines again !