You can't mess with my head and then say I was wrong. You can't tell me I'm amazing and then stop talking to me.
I see you everyday, when you come in the same train. Sit right opposite me everyday. And you dont even notice me. I work in your same building one floor down but never have you noticed me. I sip coffee everyday sitting far away noticing your charm and wondering will it ever happen. But not once have you known my existence.
I reached home late, and there you were making dinner for us. After I had freshened up we both sat down in the balcony table and had the wonderful dinner under the moon light. I was lost in your arms and spellbound by your gaze. Your one touch makes me go numb, your one kiss melted me completely.
I wake up to find out its all a dream. A dream I wait to see everynight. An universe opposite to reality I had made up.
I see you again in the train and in the coffee shop waiting to go and sleep so I can fall in your arms and feel your love in the parallel universe I have made for myself. The romance there never dilutes, never vanishes. I love you. And will always do...
I look through the window, to find many other buildings.
While I'm lighting my candle, sipping my chai
I see a hundred other things that's going on
A man maybe in his 30s sits infront of a laptop and works all day, he sometimes cribs and get up, but the call holds him back and he gets back to work
I see this young couple from another window, who have fairy lights and white curtains.
Every night they are in each other's arms having a movie marathon
I look away and my eye lands on the woman who has 2 children running around her all the time, while the toddler paints the house with his crayon the other child plugs in the headphone and sits for class. I see childhood smashed there in front of screens and I let out a sigh.
I wonder if someone looks through my window and sees me sometimes dancing to the tunes, and other times cooking to the same tunes.
While sometimes I try to get some work done, other days I wake up in the afternoon.
I wonder sometimes if someone looks through my window and says, that girl has always music to muse to.
I wonder if someone knows that I plug in to my earphones all the time because I can't be left alone with my thoughts.
I wonder if someone sees me through my window and wonders how days in my life are.
When someone asks me how my days go, I have no answers, because there is no more a normal day, a routine or a purpose. There is nothing I look forward to, or something I do.
A normal day in my life isn't normal anymore.
Image from: @a-small-startup
Doors closed from behind that never tend to open..
The doors behind whom is the person with the keys
Those doors....
How I wish you had told me before that these doors would never open...
Rather you promised me keys to eternal you
Of all the fake promises and lost love....
I wish I had known you even better. Known you even far.
I wouldn't be standing here today not knowing which way to go. Whom to trust.
I wouldn't be here having lost all faith in life
And turned cynical towards all.
I wish I had known you before.
Before all of this could have happened..
- Razia
@argumentsfromwithin hope I did justice to your poem. And ya if anyone wants to take it further. Please do..
There are days…
That turn into weeks…
These months that have become years…
How long have I been waiting for an answer…
A solution to the fears that keep me awake at night…
there’s an odd bit of advice you see that was offered to me…
A tid bit of knowledge used to express an emotion…
This feeling we’ve all been looking for…
An answer behind closed doors…
-c.S.
By: ArgumentsFromWithin
(Please write your own ending and share! I can’t wait to read them!)
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.
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…
Nothing in my life stays.
Nobody in my life stay.
It's not because they get tired of me,
It's because I shoo them away.
I am the reason for my state of mind
I lead people far away from me.
I always believe that people think anything about you on the basis of how you potray yourself
I have potrayed myself wrong
I am the cause for shifting people away from my life.
If people eventually leave that's because I make them to.
I am my own devil
The cause for my destruction
I'm literally shivering of the cold breeze here but it's also making me feel better for some reason from all the ache in my heart and the confusion in my head
Today I had to wake up early. My grandpa's maternal uncle had passed away and my granny had to go. I have never met this guy in my life, but I was dragged because there was no chauffer available at home.
When you go to a house of a dead person, you expect silence and mourning. But it was not at all like that. Forget talking good or bad about the dead person. People were delighted that they were all meeting after a long long time.
I hear women buzzing around me. They were enquiring about everything. The new jewellery brought, the new property accquired, about someone's wife and yet someone else's child's marriage. The discussions were endless.
Yet the dear and near ones of the diseased were sobbing. And whenever anyone came accross them, tears started flowing as if only a switch was to be pressed.
This made me wonder how easily humans change their emotional state. One moment its gossip and the next moment its sorrow. How?
And on my way back my granny was complaining how many did not acknowledge her presence. The occation and the dead man are forgotton even before the body was taken. Human still remain the most complex being...
It was my birthday 2 days ago,
And the first person who came to my mind, was my dad
When I was a kid, he had hidden toffies in the small compartmemt in his bike.
and had fooled me making me so dissapointed, but it turned out that he was messing. The joy my father gave that day still brings a smile....
And it was him who gave me the best b'day when he was with me....
No birthday can beat that. But what went wrong was that rush of nostalgia making my hair color green. And popped up the questions as to what was I thinking and what made me feel so. God I hated it...
Then when my friends gave me a great bash and that joy made my hair purple.
And that's when I missed my family and that changed my hair color to blue...
And all of this was because of that bloody witch who ruined the magic trick...
I am an open book now, even though no one messes with me, but at times I like to hold things to myself....
Sometimes I am best with me and I had known me best...
A magic experiment has gone wrong and now your hair changes colour based on your emotions. This has created all sorts of awkward situations, as people can read you like a book.
I travel a lot, not because I love to, but because I have to. When I was young I used to travel from Bangalore (where I used to live at that time) to Palakkad (which is my native place). And the best of entertainment which I used to get were the rush in trains, the tea and samosa hawkers, the announcements, everything was just wonderful. And being young all I did during those journeys was sleep. (I am a person who can sleep anywhere, anytime).
After my fifth standard the train journeys all came to a halt as we settled in Kerala. And then after seven years or so, my journeys came back again. I went Mangalore to do my graduation and with that I started travelling a lot.
Sometimes I used to travel with my friends while otherwise alone. And during all these times my only company were my books. I always stay away from my co passengers. I don’t like talking to strangers for no reason at all. Most of the time, I travel by unreserved ladies’ compartments and hence neither is there any entertainment (As there are no boys) nor am I interested in the co passengers with whom I travel. But once I travelled by a general compartment and that is where I met the crying man.
That time I was travelling from Vellore to Palakkad and since there was no direct train I had to get down in Coimbatore and board a different train to Palakkad. I got down at Coimbatore and there was a connection train to Palakkad which left in just about five minutes.
My train was in platform no. 4 and my connection train was in platform no. 3 for which I had to go all the way down and climb another bridge and there was very little time left and so I had to literally run, still by the time I reached the other platform with my two heavy bags and my sling back the train had already started moving hence I had to board on to a general compartment.
And there I met the guy. I was sitting in a semi empty berth. A lady was sitting to my left, and on the berth opposite to mine also only a lady was sitting.
And after around 2 minutes or so a guy came and sat opposite to me. He was tall, dark, and was in almost his late 30s or his early 40s. A good looking guy for that matter. But what caught my eyes was not his charm but his moist eyes. Well the matter that he was crying was not strange as it is a natural human emotion. But what was strange was the fact that he was crying in public, now that is not common especially in a country like ours where from the beginning the boys are thought not to cry especially in public.
At first I just let it go because it’s a free world and anybody can cry anywhere, but he was just not stopping it. He went on and on, and he was wiping his tears with his sleeve and shirt and so out of courtesy I gave him my handkerchief. He accepted it and started wiping his tears and blowing his nose.
“Hey, are you all right?” I asked
“Actually…. no” was his reply
“I know I am a stranger but sometimes talking to a complete stranger helps the most"
“Maybe, it will…. But I … I don’t know you”
He was right why should he tell a stranger the reason for his sadness.
“Ya you’re right.” Was all I could say.
But after around five minutes he talked to me again
“I am sorry for being rude I know you were just trying to help”
“It’s ok”
My curiosity to know his problem was now at peek. But I dint want to intrude again. So I just kept quiet and waited for him to open up himself.
“Well my wife is returning today”
“Returning from..?”
Well asking that was a mistake because now he started crying again
“Why are you sad if she is returning, shouldn’t you be happy?”
“Well if she had left for her parent’s house then I should be happy but she had an extramarital affair with my colleague and now since he got bored with her she is returning”
“What??” I exclaimed
“I know it all sounds strange, but you won’t understand, I don’t even know why I am explaining my whole story to you, maybe because as you said, saying everything to a stranger may help or maybe even because there is no one to whom I could tell all this
I had a best friend in office, he was my only friend. And he used to come home a lot too because I used to insist, maybe that was the biggest mistake I ever did. He was a bachelor and he always wanted to have home food and all, so I thought maybe I could help.
His character was also not that good; he changed his girlfriends every now and then and engaged in a lot of one night stands. I dint judge him for what he did because it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted to do.
But I dint think that this character of his would ruin my family life. My wife is very attractive. And instantly my wife and my friend became good friends and I dint think there was any harm in it, I was not among those husbands who have problem with their wife having male friends.
And within no time my wife and my friend were having an affair, well they managed it well because I dint have even a slightest doubt about them.”
I had to ask, “How did you know then?”
“I came to know about it when my wife ran away with him. She dint even explain things to me she just sent me a text saying “I’m leaving” and just left”
I gazed in astonishment. “Well do you have kids?”
“Yes a girl studying in class II”
I dint say anything, as he was saying it so he can be relieved I dint want to make it awkward for him.
“Well it’s been two weeks now and my wife called me yesterday and said sorry. She is returning today, I am going to pick her up”.
I was amazed, I was out of words, a guy was going to pick his wife who left him for two weeks, god I have never seen a guy like this, I wanted to ask a lot of things, but again I was just a stranger...
Maybe he read my mind or something
“I know you would be wondering what a guy I am. Maybe she just felt it as the heat of the moment and now she regrets, or maybe worse he is not a commitment guy, I don’t know what happened and I don’t want to know either, I just love my wife and my kid and I want my kid to have both her mom and dad to be with her when she grows up.
By then his station came, he bid me farewell forever, thanked me for listening to him and went away. I don’t even know his name. And I won’t meet him for the rest of my life also, but he left me with a heavy heart. I was speechless. I have seen a lot of couples in my life, my parents, my uncles and aunts, and a lot others like that.
My own parents were divorced. They have two kids but they dint think of any such thing. In fact no man’s ego would allow him to do such a thing.
The crying stranger was one of world’s best fathers I have known.