Behind Every Sucessful Man There Is A Woman, But Behind Every Unsuccesful There Are Two.

Faith.

Why am I so attached to strangers and detached from people who are mine? A question that has been haunting me for a while now. I have opened up so much to a completely stranger giving him the key to all my secrets making myself vulnerable.

Yes, my social network friend. We became friends a little while ago and now I have become quite close to him. Inseprable.

But having told him all my secrets I feel vulnerable. I feel weak. I do not know how to overcome this fear.

Having been stabbed in the back by people I have trusted, now I feel telling unknown people is much more safer than telling the known one.

I hope you wont stab me like all the others did. You wont leave my hand when I hold on to with all the trust I have. The faith; if shattered again then I would never be able to gain it back nor will I trust anyone ever again be it known or unknown.

It just feels like yesterday that I packed my bags and came here.

The baggage of memories and sadness of leaving one place had just struck me then

And today here I am bags packed.

Goodbyes said.

All set to move to a new place, I don't know where

All set to go somewhere and start all over again.

The same sadness burries me of moving out.

My eyes are moist

Heart heavy.

I don't wanna move again after having made so many friends and memories here.

I don't wanna go.

But yet again I'm set on another voyage.

Goodbye to this place and to all the people I love.

To all the roads I know, to all the places I've been to

And to everything else.

It's goodbye once again

Life turns upside down in just a matter of seconds.

I have made friends and enemies here,

Where I envy and love certain people

I do hate a few.

In just a day I’m leaving this place

Packing a lot of memories and moments

Which is heavier than my luggage.

I have made some friends for life

Whom I might not call everyday

Or think about all the while

But the place they have in my life is irreplacable

I have always been scared to let people get close to me

The fear of being vulnerable

The fear of getting so close

That if they leave I can’t survive.

Very few people make an impact when they leave

But only a handpicked make an impact staying.

Today when I count those few I’m glad I have them

But I’m scared of leaving them and going

I’m not just gonna miss them

I’m gonna miss their constant presence and the impact they make

I wish tomorrow never ended

Because the next dawn is an end

To a lifetime of memories and joy

Now I realize that moving out is indeed sad

I don’t wanna go

I don’t wanna go…

Bon Appétit

I haven't tumbled here in a while. I haven't written a story in a while. Not only that, but I look at old poems and think of storing them somewhere. I look at the ways in which I have narrated stories and I save them to watch later. I look at the scribblings at the back of my notebook, but before I could finish reading them, the to-do list from the front pages start haunting me. Furthermore, I open my laptop to look for some inspiration to write, you see I haven't written in a while. But then I lose the confidence to write. The “Tha ka dhi mi, tha ka ju nu” notes my roommate sings for the kids of her classical dance class rings in my head as I try to find a subject to write about. The tabs open in my laptop reminds me of the work I have to finish before the dawn of tomorrow, because Human Resources has asked me to finish tasks and have a new reporting format. But then I want to write. I want to write the same way Julia cooks in the film Julie and Julia; or is it Julia and Julie. It's my favourite film, and yet I keep forgetting the name.

I try to play a film in the background, some music that plays through my phone, Excel sheets and presentation decks, phone calls and emails. I'm multitasking, I tell myself. I've been multitasking for so many years, that somewhere I forgot how to perform just one task at a time.

I'm making tea and there's an episode of some random show playing in the background. I'm doing the laundry and there is music playing from my room. I'm bathing and in-between shampoo getting into my eyes and trying to balance on one foot I hear Sheldon Cooper explaining the theory of asymmetry.

I'm also a mental health professional, while I keep telling my clients to not google their symptoms, I struggle to restrain myself from self diagnosing.

The phone chimes and I know it's my best friend from miles away telling me her day went equally bad and at the end of the day we'll video call each other just to say “Life sucks (Exclamation point)”

I know I'm deviating from what I started writing about, I have no idea what I'm writing about. I think of sending the link to my partner once I finish posting this, but then there is a voice in the corner of my head that says I'll not post this, that I'll do Ctrl+A and click delete.

I know I shouldn't. It's after ages I decide to write, why shouldn't the world see it. At this point, you would be wondering why did I break into a new paragraph, do I have something to say? Am I changing the subject? Maybe yes. Because as I write this, I think of the first post I made somewhere in October 2017, and I can see the spelling and grammatical errors on that post. Not saying there aren't any now. By this time, all the above paragraphs have 5+ errors. The multiple grammar tools on my windows have come up, shooting red lines on the error. I ignore it for now. I can proofread much later.

So, what am I writing? I'm writing about not writing. I'm writing about having hated the urge to get my writing validated from strangers online, who have now become acquaintances. I'm writing about how my Instagram page is now non-existent and my Tumblr page had long died. But I will still shout to the world and tell them that I have gone back to writing, that I will write on a random day after a random period of time.

Adiós reader!

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.

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

true

I don’t want to write about romantic love anymore. I’m not bitter or anything, kinda remorseful in a sense because I have my fair share of heartaches and heavy feelings with guys who aren’t willing to reciprocate what I can offer. But love is so overrated nowadays, it’s like everyone treats romantic love like an oxygen for a dying soul. They treat it as an antidepressant for their lonely mindsets and empty hearts. How about unconditional love from people who cares for us the most? Isn’t it considered a form of love? We all desire for a romantic partner whom we can spend our Friday nights and Saturday morning with. We want to receive sweet morning phone calls and text me when you get home kind of love. We want long car drives with someone while listening to our favorite songs. We want someone to watch our corny horror movies with and watch the stars in night afterwards. We are blinded by the fact that if we don’t get to experience those, we will never be truly happy. But how about the feeling of doing something we really love like reading a favorite novel on a long bus ride and the feeling of the first sip of coffee in the morning? The feeling we get when we see the smile of our parents after receiving good news. The feeling of hugging a sister after few months of not seeing each other. Some moments are being taken for granted while we are so busy wishing for someone who can’t even paint a smile in our faces.

Reminder Alert, There is a small change, the venue is now zoom call...

Hello there… edition 2 of online open mic is coming up, give me a message to get the link. Date : 7.06.2020

Time : 07:00 pm IST (GMT + 5.30)

Venue : Google Meet

All story tellers and poets are welcome, the language is English, if not performing, you are welcome to be a spectator…

We seem to often complain that life seems strange. Well, life IS strange. There is really nothing we can do about it. In life everything is a surprise, we say that all we have is the present, but guess what we even ruin that. Coz, we don’t know what we are gonna end up doing.

I am not depressed right now, I am not angry either, for me this was a surprise. But somewhere deep down the lane, I knew that I would burst out, that I would lend a shoulder to cry on like I did last night, and that I would burst out the next day.

“It’s too good to be true.” It indeed is. How can you just agree to anything that someone says? What about your perspective then?

What about taking care of yourself, when are you planning to do that? I have done the same thing that you do. The same question is what rings in my mind all the time “what would they be going through?” BUT YOU SHOULD FUCKING STOP. In this long and tiring process of taking care of others, we lose our self. Because like we do, nobody in the fucking world cares. I know it’s not easy to change, but when you can change for good, why not?

Why would you want to keep stumbling upon the same stones that you always have? Why?

I know there are a lot of questions I am asking you here. I know. But these are questions you should ask yourself. I just am asking it so that it rings a bell.

I was the same as you. Talking care of other people’s feelings, their thoughts, what they would feel, and how they would have been feeling at that moment. But who are we to decide that? Everybody in life has shit to deal with, and it is their problem not ours. We need to have a grip on us, our feelings, our thoughts, what we are going through, because only then can you have a clear perspective about what you want.

Compromises for others are to be made in life all the time, but that doesn’t mean that we just keeping pushing our feelings in to that deep pit. Nope. We don’t do that and moreover we shouldn’t.

I don’t know what you feel, what you think because you don’t say and all you do is just agree with whatever shit I say. I may make sense, I might ever be right, not for you but for me. So stop doing things for me, stop agreeing with me and start giving respect to what you feel and you.

The cozy space

My granny used to tell me this story all the time. When I was a kid and used to get upset, I would go hide in the cupboard where she kept all the blankets and cry. That seemed the coziest space of all. I was known to be the cry baby, otherwise nicknamed the sensitive one.

Growing up, every time I had a fight with my older brother I cried at night sleeping between my parents, without them having even the slightest idea of what I was doing. My pillows were heavy each morning and not a single soul knew.

Teenage years, filled with loneliness made me associate emotions with things. While that small piece of the broken cup, and the earring my best friend gave and I lost one. The school uniform, the English textbooks which had stories that made me love reading, everything seemed to be a part of something big.

Having had to live with other people in college, the shower became that cozy space, where I cried while the water ran through my face, while I looked radiant; no one knew what was happening.

Moving cities I continued carrying the same pillow everywhere, it seemed to have known all sides of me and all stories of mine. While the pillow turned heavy, it also seemed to be the only thing to hold on to

These days, sunsets are the cozy space, evenings filled with some music and leading to nights I can look forward to. The time with myself along with some tea I make, mostly disastrous. I seemed to have found my cozy space. The corners at buildings and the empty roads seem to have grown to be cozy spaces.

Image by: Razia @a-small-startup

The first piece I ever wrote for tumblr. Its been months now and it brings back a lot of memories...

Lost

He saw me that day, but just walked away. I looked at him, at his deep brown eyes that said a thousand words, sang a hundred songs. I saw that he still loved me but yet decided to walk away. If I ask him, he would say that it’s for my own good. But I fail to understand what is this good that I have without him. What is that he does not want to make me a part of his life?

I asked, I screamed but he just turned away.

Well I know all this just sounded a bit too melodramatic, but trust me it isn’t. Whatever he did to me at that wedding day walking away from me was just not fine. Yes, my fiance “the love of my life” just walked away from our wedding without even looking at me.

My beloved father who had been separated from my mother for the past 15 years, to whom I have not talked more than a couple of times all this while decided to turn up for my weeding. The problem was not he coming to the wedding (even though that was my main intention behind not inviting him) but his reaction. Like any other melodramatic movie father, in the moment of “kanyadan” came when my maternal uncle was giving away my hand, this great man created a scene stating nobody else other than him can do that. Well if he had been there when I wanted him maybe I would have let him, I definitely do not need a father for namesake. So I decided to go against it. And seeing this drama my would-be in-laws decided to grab the opportunity, as they from the beginning had a problem in my parents being separated. So my fiance’s mother took him by his hand and grabbed him out of the hall… and I stood there staring at him walking away with his mother as a four year old kid being denied of his favorite toy. This was crazy, crazy as ever.

My dad dint stop there he accused me of not inviting him for the wedding and challenged that without him I could never get married. Well I dint want to anymore. My friends, the literal love of my life came up and made sure the drama ended. The humiliation, the heartbreak, the frustration all that came stemmed up and all wanted to do was run away, run away from all these eyes staring at me, from all the fake sympathy I was going to get. All I did was run, reached my room packed my bags, took my wallet, my passport and took a cab to the airport. I had no idea where I was going. I dint want to cancel my holiday and go back to US because again I will have to explain stuff there. All I wanted was to go somewhere.

With no idea in my head as to my destination I was sitting in the airport when suddenly my phone beeps, I get a call from an unknown number, at first I ignore thinking it is someone wanting to know where I was, but then I decided to pick it up at the third ring. It was the hotel confirmation for my honeymoon. Well I dint have my “honey” with me but I guess I could go there and get some peace of mind. I decided to go, checked in, it was a 3 day package, and as I was not among the girls who would morn over ice cream.

I went in, ordered some alcohol, took a long and refreshing shower and sat in the balcony watching the beach, drink in one hand and a cigar in another. I wanted to just stay like this, away from all the mess, all the confusion that just was there in my life. I dint want to take up any trouble right now. And my phone was lying there dead just like me, I dint switch it on after coming back, I dint want anybody to know where I was, and come for me.

Finally after three days of seldom loneliness, alcohol and sleep I realized that I dint do anything to come under hiding. I decided to go back, face everybody because it was not me who walked out of the wedding; it was not me who couldn’t take a stand against the person I loved. He did that, if there was anyone to be ashamed of, it was him. After being in love for bloody 8 years, and knowing me in and out, if he has done this to me, then it is not me who deserves this isolation. I switched on my phone, there were hundreds of texts and calls, I ignored them all knowing it would all be the same from different people. And then my phone buzzed, it was him, Imran, well I dint want to talk to him, now or forever, I did not pick up his call, nor did I reject it, and then came a call from my aunt, she at first scolded my which was obvious as they did not know where I was, what was I doing, and when I told her where I was and what I was doing she relaxed. She said Imran had called a number of times, and that he wanted to apologize and get married to me and me alone. But I did not. She said that he had come home every hour hoping I would have come back. I did not want to see his face.

Finally, in the evening when I  decided to check out and head back home, I heard a knock at my door, I thought it was the coffee I ordered and told the person to come in, but mistaken was I, it was him, he was standing right in front of me, looking right into my eyes this time, wanting to explain a thousand things, but I dint want to hear even a single thing he had to tell, all I said was a small good bye, hugged him out and told him to leave, not just from my room but from my life.

He wanted to speak, opened his mouth but maybe realized that it was all in vain and just left.

I am not going to be melodramatic and say that “all men are one” or that “I hate men” or something. I just lost trust in him, and in the whole thing called as “love”. And this trust once broken takes a lot of effort to get healed, to be gained back, and so I guess will be my case, as for me it will take another lifetime to trust someone and fall in love all over again.