With Mountains Climbed

When new things happen in life, what do you do? Depending on the happening you either become happy or sad, right?

Well, that's what I'm going through right now. I am happy, well happy would be a small word, I'm extremely overwhelmed. Happier than ever, and that's what worries me... But I guess with him by my side I will be fine.

Because today had been a perfect day. Brunch with friends, lot of laughter and hard core fun.

He sent me something that's his. Something that was a piece of his life... Maybe I really had no idea how much I made him feel infinite...

This feeling of happiness seems wonderful, well leaves me speechless whenever I think about the great things happening.

Maybe I should just sit back and relax like how he always says

I do not know, even though its confusing, there is clarity in this fairy tale that he has built me. Because more than love, I trust him

I do... do I... ??

Yesterday I went shopping with my granny and aunt. For a change, I was wearing a sari. a black sari with bronze border. I was looking pretty good.

The idea of going with them was not a good one. I was damn bored. I was gazing around the shop looking at things that I would never buy. What else to do...

I was standing there looing at some dress, when an old lady came next to me and asked "Your sari is amazing. Where did you buy that from dear?"

"Its from Kerala aunty"

(I am now in Chennai. TN)

"Oh! its beautiful. I was shopping for my granddaughter and she loves black. she is almost your age and looks like you too. could you please help me select one for her. My taste you see is quite old"

"sure aunty"

I was happy that she asked for my help. Now at least I will be looking around with some purpose. Now, there is certainly one thing about old people. they are damn inquisitive... In no time they pull out every detail about you. So was this lady, she was asking me all sorts of questions, I did not want to be rude so I answered with patience and moreover she was very sweet.

After a while I picked out a black sari with pink and green border. It was a beauty. she seemed satisfied too... as I was helping her with a billing she insisted on getting me something too. now that's too much. I politely declined. She finally gave up and suddenly out of nowhere a guy called her.

"Where were you? I was looking all around the place for you"

"You were bored weren't you. This young girl helped me pick a sari for your sister"

"Thank you so much. I'm Ram"

"Hey. I'm Razia"

A tall handsome young guy. A beard, tall, husky voice. Just amazing. I never used to believe in love at first sight. "Bullshit" was my synonym for it. But yesterday when I saw him I got butterflies in my stomach. I just couldn't take my eyes off him.

But that's it. I get that feeling for the first time and that too towards a person I will never meet again. 

God wasn't that cruel too. that aunty was so happy with me helping her that she too out a small piece of paper, wrote her name, address and her grandson's no. she told me to call him if I get any confusions with the address as I am new in town.

I have that paper right in front of me. I do lie him. but do I? I can call him should I? questions unanswered I sit her perplexed. I don't now. maybe as I always say, there isn't love at first sight, it always a crush and he would also pile up in my little list of crushes.  

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

Thanks for tagging me @euesworld .

The top five things I like about me.

1. I'm crazy

2. I love the people who matter to me unconditionally

3. I write well I guess

4. The way I laugh my heart out

5. The way I love myself

Now for those 5 people I want to answer this are.

@acloudenthusiastsdream @glitteringhuman @notcrazylimitededition @tark42 @krisnair

I hope I get to know you guys even more....

Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, then, you have to send this to ten of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 💞🌞🌈

(Oh spooky noodles I keep forgetting to answer this!!)

My taste in music

My voice

My roleplay skillz

Um, my ability to make stories? NOT THE SAME AS ROLEPLAYING

Aaand my kinda split-personalities: The real me, the Me My Family Sees, and Emotionless Person at School.

For the followers, since so few of them have actually interact, I’ll only be tagging those I hope will actually answer:

@wildfire317

@poppinsagain

@xellas-the-wanderer

@paniiram

@doragonlw

@nova-dragonbound

@northcreekgeneralstore

@drabblezofmine2

@mochamy

@porcelainmasked

And after all this expansion they asked me if I'd like to stand for their president election, apparently the fishes are asking for freedom and cleanliness so they believe if I become their president the fish would never get cleanliness. But on the other hand, the fish is making our cat to stand for them, apparently over the period of time they became friends and since I don't clean his bowl he's very angry.

You’ve been putting off cleaning your late fishes aquarium. Today the algae did its first space flight test.

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!

In the house of the dead man.

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...

in love with this

Road.

Two roads diverged,

like the Robert frost poem.

I reckon, I chose the right one.

The one that took me, lands away,

showed me a small glimpse of

what the Eden looks like.

Verdure, the road beholds nothing

but lustful verdure on both sides.

I felt like I was drowning,

I felt like I was in middle of

a boisterous ocean.

A ocean, big, but not blue.

I confronted things I had never ever

felt in the bustle city life on mine.

I witness greenery, a sheer flora.

Like a big green mattress

laid vastly infront of me.

I felt like a small lost little ant

looking from sugar crumbs

moving back and forth

in that mattress.

I didn’t know how long I’d been there.

Probably hours, but I realized one thing,

All these days in the cantankerous life

I had had, I had lived like a man

who was allergic to oxygen.

I though maybe I should pack

something with me. It should not be

the oxygen, it should not be

that seducing frondescence,

it should not be the dangling harvests

It should be something that reminds me

what I withstood that moment.

Instead of all the alluring things out there

I chose the tamest one,

It was the picturesque memories

that I bagged wishing secretly that

I could cherish it every day.

- lsr

If I could...

I always wonder, if I could do a lot of things, life would have been a bit more simpler.

if I could read other people's mind it would have been simpler to avoid complications, to not hurt people. I would not have broken the trust of my beloved and regret those lies.

if I could go back in time, I would have undone a lot of things that hurt her and made her eyes go wet. I would have not fallen in love with all those wrong guys and now be in a state of hating love.

if I could get a second chance, I would apologize to all those whom I hurt.

if I could.... if I just could... I would do a hundred things that made life simpler, that made life easier.

I am my own devil

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