Family Is Not Just Mom And Dad

With mountains climbed

Stars gazed at.

It's been a beautiful week of all my life.

With friends made, and friendships bonded

I don't know how life could change.

People talked, laughed, had a merry go ride.

This has been where relationships redefined

New ones made

Judgements broken and new ones made.

Love to all the people and all the memories.

To the good and bad triping

I grab the tissue box next to me as I weep, while she says she was there just for him and doesn't tell him how much she loves him, because she loves him to let go. I cry. While he says the wrong name at the alter I cry because that's not who he's meant to be with and I cry.

My phone beeps, it's the reminder telling me to write. I close my laptop grab my notebook and stare at the empty page.

I think of what makes me cry, as that's what I'm supposed to write about and I have no clue what makes me cry.

I think of my abusive father, the assaults I've faced, and nothing brings a tear. I think of my first love and how he cheated on me, and go on to think of all the love I've lost and still not a tear.

I stare at the empty page, thinking of lost love and lost childhood, and nothing makes me sad. I've grown hostile to them all.

I give up. Close the book, and that's when I hear the Azan at the distant corner, along with the prayer announcing the Eid tomorrow.

It's been 8 years since I've been home for Eid, I search for my prayer mat and dust the Quran. I'm not religious at all, but the only time I pray is just twice a year, that's the least I can do for some biriyani, and moving out, that's the closest I have felt to home. The azan is what makes me home, it reminds me how my granny rushes to go pray as soon as she hears it; it reminds me of the eagerness I and my little brother used to have during Ramzan to break the fast. It's the closest I feel to home because the only part of childhood I remember till today is my grandpa coming to pick me up from my school, and going to the mosque nearby to pray. It still is my grandpa's mosque to me while he is now buried there, it has become his. The wait to pray tomorrow is what makes me drop a tear, and that's when I realize, the Azan giving me the distant memory of home is what makes me cry.

I set the room for prayer, grab that notebook with the empty page, start writing with tears filling my page and go back to sleep.

Image from @a-small-startup

Vikram from the coffee shop

I was new in town then, had not known what to do and where to go on a boring Sunday afternoon. I took my bike and went to the mall and the first shop that my eyes fell on was the book store. I went in brought “The Girl on the Train” by Paula Hawkins. Well, a lot of people had suggested that book to me and finally when my eyes fell on the book I couldn’t resist it. I brought the book and headed to CCD. I don’t know whether it was because of Sunday, or because everyone was bored, the coffee shop was crowded like never before. Thankfully I got a table for two, went in, sat down, ordered a cup of hot cappuccino and started reading the book. Just when I finished the third of fourth page, a guy came in and distracted me. I get very annoyed when someone disturbs me in the middle of reading. I looked up,

“Is this seat taken? The café is crowed and literally there is no other seat available so do you mind?“

A tall guy with great physique and just amazing eyes, a guy to whom you could never say no

“Sure, no one is going to come here”

“Thank you”

Well, I continued with my book and he got into his business. Surprisingly he too had a Paula Hawkins’ book in hand. “One Minute to Midnight” I was about to ask him whether he had read mine, when he noticed the book in my hand.

“That’s a good book, I very recently read that and trust me the suspense is good”

“Oh! I was about to ask you the same. Actually this is the first book of the author that I am trying and I have no idea how it’s going to be. I have heard great review about it from friends and so thought would give it a try.”

“Well, you won’t be disappointed, trust me. Even I started with that book of the author and this is my third. I just am not able to stop”

“That’s nice to know. Well if its reader certified then I am sure it would be worth it.”

In no time I realized that we had both closed our books which is quite unusual about me because I never stop reading and talk, otherwise I am very talkative but when I have books I just am absorbed in it. But this guy had a different charisma; he just made me do the unthinkable. We talked about a lot of stuff like books, other authors, how Indian authors have developed in the past few years, criticized a lot of authors and surprisingly both of us agreed on a lot of things. Normally my taste of books is bizarre, I don’t completely follow any author or genre, I just like to experiment new authors, genres and different styles. And when I say this to people everybody thinks I am weird but he was just like that. It was amazing to find a person like that. I had associated and connected to a complete stranger in no time.

We had talked for hours and after a long time I realized that I had to go. I did not want to leave him and go anywhere but I had to.

"It was great talking to you, but I have to go now, so see you again if possible”

“Oh yes even I need to be somewhere I just dint realize how time passed. It was great meeting you too.”

“Bye”

“Hey, I’m Vikram, by the way”

He extended his hand.

“I’m Razia” I replied and we both shook hands and parted our ways.

That was when I realized that we had talked for hours and dint even bothers to ask each other’s name. It’s been a year and a half now since this incident. Whenever I see that book I remember him, but even though I had been back to the coffee shop again a couple of times I dint meet him.

To be honest in a way it is good because maybe it won’t be the same if we meet again, because that one day that I had spent with him was wonderful. It was nice and I don’t want to ruin it with another meeting. Sometimes it’s just good with one meeting alone. If that person come back in your life and takes a permanent place it might not be the same.

The outside word is harsh and cold

That’s why we keep our doors closed…

My mom told me this the first time I asked the reason behind closing the door.

Then another question arised as to why we keep our windows open

And she replied “to view the world.”

But….

Wait…!

Why see the harsh world

If we close our doors to it.

Why have windows if we want cocoons…

It was then I realized lately

That we dont close our doors because the outside world is harsh and cold

But because we are scared of the outside world

Which consists of our “own”

And we still have windows because we are anxious to know whats happening out there

This lie we tell

The blame we put

Its all an escape

To the fear within us…

The fear towards us.

We close our doors

Because we fear the outside world

19:03:18

When you were my 12am friend now don't call me just for the courtesy. When you talked to me endlessly now don't talk just because I called. I've always come behind you all the while, now don't expect the same. If you want you talk otherwise just don't. You can't force forgiveness or love. I've done more than my part now it's up to you. Don't worry about me being ignored it isn't new to me.

The endless ignorance in life..........

I never saw her like this before.

She has never been so vulnerable before

.

I never knew that an old chord like this

Would stir up so much.

.

I have never heard him like that

All so messed up yet so clear about what was going on.

.

They should both just go on

Move their separate paths.....

Actually they have.

.

It's just old chords like these.

Because

Some voices just brings in memories

And some people bring back a smile

And they are the ones like that.

.

And they would always be like that.

No matter what,

Some times, some things, and some memories never change

Love.

I really dont believe in it anymore.

There was a time when I truly did...

I had thought that....

The butterflies I got in my stomach thinking about him

Me skipping a beat when I hear his voice

His one touch making me go numb

That one kiss that mesmerized me

I thought all that was love.

So wrong was I.

You truly do love the person

But for that person to love you back

With the same compassion, the same intensity

You got to be lucky for that

Bloddy damn lucky

My love is long lost in the midst of all those I gave it to.

I dont hope to get it back now from anyone anymore.

Coz in this world of mystery love remains solved to me

In a way I never hoped it to be

I wish I had known it all beforehand

I would not have loved

Atleast not the wrong person...

Like these tip of buildings we see

Lays the faces of people

Not just others but also yours and mine

Where all of our beauty is beneath the clouds

And they see from top

Flying so high

Never coming down

To know what we are

I wish you came down

And knew what I was

Right from the bottom

All the way up.....

Will used to love me when I got nothing but my aching soul.

Seeing the pain seeing the pleasure.

And I could fall or I could fly. Hanging on the words you say.

With you my dear I'm safe

Tell me why I can be there where you are

Its a paradise and it is a war zone

(Songs : "The moon song" "Pillow talk" "Show me the meaning" "Dive")

trying to figure me out

The other day someone asked me, what’s the most precious thing in your life? Or maybe something that you hold on to? I thought for a very long time and my answer was “nothing”. Yes, I do not associate feelings with objects anymore. There was a time when even the smallest of objects meant the world to me, where I was close to all petty things and anything anybody gave me it meant the world to me. I used to cry and drain my tears out if I lost something, but now things have changed. I first thought that it was because of the so called “maturity” I gained with increasing age and that it was normal. I thought it was childishness that I expressed before.

But I just feel that day by day I am getting detached from things. I think that I don’t associate feelings with objects because then, being objects they tend to get damaged and when that happens it hurts. And I thought maybe I’ll leave objects and associate greater amount of feelings with people. There are very few people in my life with whom I associate. I thought this was what growing up meant, that when you become matured this is what you do, but alas I preferred the childishness.

There was a thing with associating feelings with objects, there is no expectation of the object to have the same feeling towards you and thus without expectations there is no scope for disappointments.

With people it complicates things. You have to get what you give and when that does not happen you feel disappointed. So was I. With all those disappointments in life from people every now and then, I just realized that I can’t associate with anything. I just can’t.

Neither people nor things. After every failure, breakup of every relationship, loosing of objects I tend to move on very easily in life and people think that I’m emotionless, a lot have said too but I have just become so. From too emotional to emotionless. I couldn’t take the disappointments so I stopped expecting. Maybe this is good maybe it isn’t. I don’t know and I don’t want to know.

People say that I use them for my gain, well when I was being used I dint complain, but when you get the taste of your own medicine its bitter now!

People say that my behavior and attitude isn’t right, well you just get what you give.

I have always been told that my ego is my biggest enemy, you call it ego I call it, self respect.

I don’t care about others and their feelings you say, when no one gave a damn about me I just stopped caring.

For me, I am the way life has tamed me. I might be emotionless, egoistic, rude, emotionless or anything. It’s your perception about me, and I can’t do anything about it. But don’t give me hopes, don’t talk about me or regarding my presence in your life to someone associated with us and I get to know from them. If you want to say something, tell it to me right at my face I won’t feel offended. Don’t be surprised when I get worried about the people in my life, even though I don’t show any emotions I’m very protective when it comes to my people. I loved the old me but I wasn’t practical, the new me is just a reflection of how I’m treated. The people around me and situations I have been through have made me think this way. Maybe it isn’t it pleasing and convenient but this way I’m not hurt every now and then. So I prefer being this way because I now care more about me than others, as that phase of me putting everybody else before me has passed long time ago.