He Thinks He Gave Me Scars,

I don't express love in the right way

I don't say the right thing at the right time

But I have never been fake

Nor has my love been a hoax.

.

Just because I'm not like the rest of the world in being all sweet and cheesy

Doesn't mean I care less

.

I AM THIS WAY

I'm Adamant, Loud, Curious, Sentimental, but that doesn't mean my soul is bumbling.

.

These are traits in my character that are not so good maybe, but look there are other "good" ones too.

.

If my adamance is bothering you

Let it be.

.

If me having an opinion is smothering you

Then you are suffocating by your own thoughts.

.

I may not be the apple of your eye

Or the centre of you're world.

Guess what

I don't want to be.

But how can my mere presence bother you

Just because we hold a past

.

I'm not agitated just with you,

But by a lot of people around me.

How can you judge me so easily even after knowing me.

You're so wrong with your calculations coz your decisions aren't always the right.

.

If you still say I have a problem, then be it

Coz my problem isn't that big a deal

All I do is care too much and love too much all the wrong people at the wrong time to whom I have never been significant. Ever.

.

I'm glad your smile is above my scar.

I'm really glad.

Dear "whom so ever it may concern"

I just read a letter sent my you, a long well a long lasting letter. It said from someone who loved me unconditionally once upon a time. How did our love fade away, how did the love turn into unconditional hatred. ? How?

Well, some questions can't have answers and I know this doesn't too. But you had become everything I wanted you to become not for me but for yourself. You started being the best version of yourself and I'm happy for you.

I just am not able to realize, just not able to comprehend how it all changed.

Which reminds me that everything is turning upside down in my life, everything I thought would remain constant is changing.

I'm in a city I never thought I'd return back to. This city where I have spent exactly half of my life, this city which has given me a lot of memories both good and bad, joy as well as tears. It holds a lot of people I love as well as hate. This city is accused of having changed me, this city has shown me everything I consider a nightmare.

This is the same city I thought holds a lot of people I hate but turns out I don't hate them. It's the same city that thought me my lessons for life. Which thought me to rise, to learn and to stand out. This is the city I hated as well and I sweared I would never return to. But again this is the same city that made me laugh again.....

So dear Mr. Who I'm happy that you're happy, don't blame the city coz every city unfolds a lot of layers in us like mine did to me, and how yours is doing to you.

From,

Someone

As mothers, she held her close,

Trying to feed by milking her blood

She was more than happy, a little more confused

Euphoria maybe or post pregnancy hormones

She was scared to let go, the baby was so tiny and fragile…

 .

He came in, a little late, hurried to see if his beloved was okay

Yes he was happy, but more worried I guess

He held her close, and apologized

Asked her whether she was happy or not

 .

They both looked at the baby, happy and content

This seemed to be a moment that could be captured

 .

It’s been years since then, I look up at the picture

My mom telling me what that day meant

I have heard this story a hundred times, but each time she says it a different way

 .

Sometimes I see her telling me that story with so much happiness that I wish he was around

And yet other times there is so much hatred I am glad they aren’t together…

 .

And yet, when he tells me the story I see pain as to not having spent enough time with me

 .

I don’t know whether to hate them both or love them

Either way I seem caught in an endless cycle

For me

What would you do if you wake up tommorow morning and realize that you are not that person anymore. That you have changed overnight. How would you react when you realize that you dont remember anything at all what happened. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself in a time span much much ahead of where you last were.

I dont know either. But somehow, somewhere I feel that I am lost. Lost in my own life. My own vicious cycle of finding myself. Being good to myself. Being the person whom I am expected to be. Whom I expect to be.

I am tired of deciding things in life after analyzing whether I am becoming what they always doubted that I would become. I am tired of the realization that I have lost track of myself.

I want to live for me. Decide for me. And do or dont do things because I want to or dont want to. I dont want to stop doing something just because maybe that is what I am becoming. I am tired of justifying everything I do. I am tired of fulfilling the expectations of others. I am tired of not becoming and sick of living for others.

I want to be me and live for me decide for me and understand me justify me feel happy for me guilty towards me and me me and me no one else.

Why is being strong so romaniticised.

Why is crying and talking and being yourself considered weak?

Why is letting go difficult

Why aren't we given time if it's difficult?

Why is being you so suffocating

Why can't you be you?

.

Why is romance so fragile

Why is it that you need someone?

Why can't you cling to pain

Why is ease so easy?

.

Why can't you whine

Why can't you complain?

And Why is that you can write only when you are in pain?

.

Why is your healing

Someone else's pain?

.

Why is your time not at their time stamp?

.

Why can't people know we're all at a different pace

In our journey towards ease.

.

Why is it difficult to see someone cry

And not just be.

.

Why do you want everyone to smile even beyond that pain.

.

Why can't you let the pessimism

Go away on its own

.

Why do you guilt someone over healing

Why do whine over someone else's pain.

.

Why can't you trust over time

To do the healing.

.

Why can't you love the pain and the sorrow

And embrace the person

.

You don't want change you want remedy

You don't want ease you want comfort

.

You don't want serenity you want pleasure

You guilt others over your guilt

.

You ease others over your ache

.

It will all be right

Just no more wrong infront of you.

.

Let's put up a brave face is it?

And when the one person is gone you never expected to lose you’re left wondering why. Trying to figure out what pushed them away, wondering what you have done wrong over and over again. Everything you’ve ever said, everything you’ve ever done is repeating all over in your head trying to make sense of it, but you can’t no matter how hard you try and it hurts so badly. You still want to tell them everything that happens in your life and the realization that they’re no part of it anymore feels like being stabbed in the chest repeatedly. And trying to accept this is hard because you can’t get them out of your mind, missing them so badly and it hurts, it hurts so terribly.

I’m sorry. (via painfully-isolated)

Everything that is happening right now

The mirror

Tiny little toes, 10 little fingers and she learns to stand.

With that chubby cheek and the diaper, it was more like a duck racing around.

She starts running because, she might fall anytime now, and wants to cover as much as possible.

She turns around and finds this beautiful little kid staring back at her,

Looks up and finds her mother staring at her,

She rushes to hug her mother, but her nose hits the solid screen

The mirror.

She doesn’t realize then, that at one point in life she’ll hate looking into that

The mirror.

High school was supposed to be fun

Crushes and girl gangs were the things shown on those romcoms

She hates those movies now.

While she developed early, her breasts were her biggest enemies

The girls in her class started calling her names, and

She felt guys only liked her for that

Every day she looked into that opaque thing and hated every inch

The extra skin, being fat, and those stretch marks

She hated them all

The Mirror

Being a young lady

She covered every inch she hated with layers and layers of cloths

While her mother told her that she should lose some weight and not eat more

Her grandmother constantly reminded her she would never find someone

Then came the era of being woke

Where you were pretty DESPITE being fat

She looked away from mirrors

The pores on her face, the short hair, and the dry lips

Nothing seemed pretty DESPITE being fat and dark.

The mirror only mouthed what she told

She was never nice to herself

Today, she wakes up, wears the same white shirt that she wears for meetings

Looks up at that mirror and looks into those eyes

Those eyes had known that fair and lovely was not what she seeked

She did not have to feel pretty despite fat and dusky

She was pretty with those curves and dark skin

She wears the khol on her eyes, slides into the shorts

Tucks that strand of hair

And lets out a smile to herself

And to all those years of hatred

She saw those little toes and 10 fingers

And smiled

The mirror.

Image from Razia @a-small-startup

Its the place that haunts me

I always thought it was people who held memories.

It was all the moments you have with people that stays

But how wrong was I

I went back to a place so mine. So familiar; Yet so distant now

The place that was once mine

And it was at that moment I realized that it is indeed places that hold moments and memories

Every path I walked yesterday, every step I took

Reminded me of so many people and so many moments

I could literally look back and see myself doing all sorts of stuff

With all the people I love.

When I told people they thought I was hallucinating

Or said I was being very filmy.

But trust me, I could see that all

Feel it all.

A sense of loss was felt

All those time that I spent there with all of them. It all just drifted back.

It was like there was something holding me back. 

It felt I could be with all of them at that moment.

I was happy as well as sad at that particular moment.

I had left back the whole idea that its not places and things that keep you the memory.

It’s at that moment that I realized that its places that haunts me.

The places that made me feel so much.

I have met the demons in me

At first, they came as a resort to the discomfort

Now they seem to haunt me

day and night.

While I sit at my desk and start crying,

they seem to add fuel to the fire

I see them running around in my head,

stomping my feelings and fears

I see them running around in my house,

I see them sipping tea amidst the chaos they seem to have created

I see them everyday; I see them everywhere; I see them in me.

I see them breaking glass and walking on the shattered pieces

I meet the devil in me everyday

It physically hurts me 

to see him, her and them

all laughing together.

To have been a part of it once

and now being a mere spectator.

To have had promises made

and to have them easily broken.

It physically hurts me,

to put myself to sleep every night

crying, weeping and consoling myself.

It haunts me that this separation

day in and day out

will pursue, till everything rather everyone vanish

It’s haunting to not understand the cause,

It physically hurts me

to see people I love hate me so much.

It physically hurts me to see that though a lot of people like me

no one understands what I feel

Being around so many people

no one notices that I weep right under their nose.

It haunts me that ‘

the validation rather the acknowledgement of my presence i seek from people will never be understood,

the need for someone around to lend me a ear and understand me will never be understood

It physically and emotionally hurts me.

it’s haunting to live in a place you hate, around people you hate, doing things you hate.

It’s haunting to tell all of this out loud. It’s hurting me inside out.