I'm Constantly Struck Between Yesterday And Tomorrow Losing Today. I'm Struck Between The Old Me And

Family is not just mom and dad

It's the one who love you

And I've seen mine in you

I know I'm an idiot

I ruin things that are great in life

And later mourn about it

I realise late that I've damaged

What we had

And this time I guess it's beyond repair

For the first time I wish

I had an undo button for life

Coz' I have never mourned over anything

Like this before

I have had fights with you before

But believed it will all be fine

But I guess I lost you this time

Once and for all...

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

Hey there,

This turned out to be a huge success, with maybe just 6 performances including me, the encouragement from people and the participants have been so overwhelming, thanks a lot. 

The performers being:

1. Asfiya Sherif 2. Shyamala 3. Monica

4. Anusha 

5. Enigma @enigmasandephipanies

Also a huge shout out to all the people who joined @heofnothingness @hiraeth73 Arya, Megha, Riddhima, Maria, Mirium, Jeena, Paul, Zerin, Bhargavi, Swati, Pooja and Prince and all the others who joined in.... I have no words to express how it all went

Online Open Mic

Greetings of the day! Good whatever in whichever time zone you’re in.  Hope everyone is safe, well let’s get best of the lock down. I am organizing an online open-mic for all the poets and writers out there. 

All you have to do is message me and I will send you the link. The open mic is gonna be on Zoom an online platform, if you don’t wanna perform you can be a spectator to encourage.  So the details are:

Date : 29.04.2020 Time : 08:00 pm IST (Indian Standard Time) GMT + 05:30 Venue : Zoom Platform video call Language : English only

If interested send me a message and I will send you the link

The peaceful Old Lady

There is this temple opposite to the house I stay, I do not know which deity, but I know it’s a Hindu temple. 

Every evening someone comes and cleans the whole temple, lights a lamp and keeps the gates open. I do not know who does that. From that time everyone who passes by pause their walk and take a peep in, some just peep, pray from the outside and leave, while others just ignore the existence. 

But then, there are these people who stop, take a peep, pause, and then decide to go in, they walk in, wash their hands and feet at the tap outside, and then pray. Some leave after the prayer is done, while others sit there for some time, I wonder what they think of, maybe about everything that’s going on in the world or maybe about something that’s happening inside their house. I wonder. 

Today, I decided to take a look inside the temple myself, I am not a devotee, not religious either, I am just curious. I went inside, looked at the statue of the God, roamed around and decided to sit there for a while. I liked the positivity of the place. It was nice, the vibe and the aura the place holds is nice. That’s the only thing I like about places of worship. 

One woman comes in, does the rituals in the right forms, and comes and sits next to me. We exchange a smile and neither of us speak. After a few minutes, she asks me where I am from as she has never seen me in that neighbourhood., I tell her that I am visiting a friend here and that this is not my place. Out of curiosity, I ask her where her house is. She gives a smile, a smile I can never describe, and then says, “I don’t have a house, I stay here until they close this temple and wander off to the next one.” I did not know how to respond and regretted asking her the question.

It then strikes me that I can find her a place to stay, I ask her if I could call some people who can come and fetch her, an old age home, maybe. She thanks for the offer, but then said that there is a peace in the way she lives. I try to convince her rather lure her with all the things she can have, a safe place to sleep, food, shelter, better facilities and everything that comes to my mind. Nothing helps. She thanked me again, and I asked her why, she said there is nothing she has to gain or lose, she has a family who are happy without her, she said she was happily married. No one abandoned her, she chose this, if there wasn’t quarantine she generally helps in one of the big temples.

She told me that she was not a devotee, rather liked doing what she does. She got up to leave, I asked her where she was headed to, she said there was a temple in the street nearby, and felt like going there. I waved goodbye and saw her leave. Her small figure faded as she walked slowly yet with so much peace. 

I hope I meet her again.

It has been 4 days since I met her, and she has not returned, sometimes I wonder if I intruded a bit too much and maybe that’s why she is not returning. Maybe this temple is too small, and she found a better one. Whatever it is, I wait every evening, sipping my coffee, hoping she would return among the peepers and passer-by's I see every day. The peaceful old lady has not yet returned, and I wait…

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. 

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.

The mornings have been lazy lately,

with disturbed patterns of sleep,

you wonder when you go to sleep and when you wake up.

.

But the mornings these days are also tremendously beautiful,

the sunlight hitting you just the right amount through the windows

the tree outside that’s blooming,

leaving just the right amount of flowers on the ground.

.

The birds chirruping outside breaking the silence,

the squirrels cry out of joy,

all of them coming out at the right time.

.

The evening strolls in the terrace,

with my coffee in hand,

the book I’m reading,

yet again the birds and  the wind that brings in peace.

.

And then today came the first of summer rains,

the birds all flying with a sudden alarm,

they welcome the rain even before we know of it,

the eagles flying above the clouds, welcoming the warmth.

.

The petrichor hitting me first even before the drops of rain,

I let them fall on my face,

the heat comes down

there is this sudden chillness in the atmosphere,

and then it rains heavily.......

.

I sit down enjoying the rainfall, 

finishing my book,

wanting to write about it all,

but it’s worth the wait.

I wanted to take it all in.

.

with rain came the wind,

the lighting and thunder,

the sun who went into hiding

comes back with company,

.

the colors of

violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red

fills the sky,

.

I continue sipping my coffee,

reading my book,

looking up constantly at the sky, the birds and the rainbow.

.

I go back to sleep that night,

with a huge smile, a content heart and a finished book.

Thinking of a beautiful day that unfolded itself

seeing all those that no one saw,

that no one noticed,

that beauty,

and that melancholy of the day having finished so fast

the melancholy with serenity

that no one saw

no one would ever see

the melancholy with serenity...

.

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

Yay! Its my birthday