Your Way

I want to,
Learn to talk to me
know how to paint, and to write music
to be free and cheerful
and to enjoy my company,
So that
at one phase,
When I’m sick of the daily routine,
of boring days and lazy nights,
of the unsettled life,
At that point of time,
Even if he, she and you, give up on me,
I don’t want to give up on myself.

Because,
Self-healing is not just important.
It’s the only way out.

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The sparkle 

Beautiful Humankind,

We describe people. We describe places. We pretty much describe anything and everything. I’d like to ask you something. If you were to describe yourself, how’d you do that?

This one is for me, Myself.  Okay, if you feel like judging me, no worries. Feel free to do so. Cause’ I’m sure my friends won’t and I don’t care about the rest.

I’m not a very messy kind of a person. But apparently, I like messy hair with a bun. They give me a feeling that I’m free and jolly. And also that not everything messy is supposed to be bad.

Trust me on this, I’m not good at managing everything in my life, not even my cupboard. But at the same time, relations matter to me. I’ m much of an emotional kind of a person and talking about human nature, I’m much susceptible to it. For me, there is nothing that could ever replace the priority that my close friends and my family hold. They’re glued on the top of my priority list. I’m blessed with people like them. And they are the key to my heart. Even on a bad day, I love them.

I don’t like small talks. Talk to me about stars, and dreams and life and it makes sense to me. I like people who speak with the sparkle in their eyes. I literally love them. And I love people who’re fascinated by the stars. Tell me, who doesn’t like stars? I can talk to you endlessly about the stars. I find them way too pretty. I don’t know why and how but every now and then, the trees, the wind, the sun rays, they make me feel lively. I’ve always been inclined towards the beauty of nature.

I’ll tell you, hate isn’t a word for me. I don’t use the word “hate” until and unless I truly hate it. I believe, dislike is a better word. Another considerable fact about me, I can’t get mad at someone for too long. And with too long I mean not even a day. If by any chance, I had a fight and it isn’t sorted, I couldn’t sleep the entire night. Therefore, I hate fights. Doesn’t matter small or big, I hate it for my good.

Yes, another bad thing about me. Sorry doesn’t make sense to me. I rarely apologize and I rarely take sorry into consideration. Instead, I believe in Thank you’s. I thank for the littlest of deeds everybody does. And I get happiness in thanking them.

I pretty much laugh at everything. Apart from some blue days, I’m much of a happy kind of a person. I like the optimistic me. I love myself. And I feel complete in the way I am. I’m glad that at least for a nano- second, I can make people smile.

My friends tell me that I overthink but I think they’re wrong. I think, I just think a little more than them. What say?

I like to see myself smiling and confident in the morning. Can anything beat the charm of a jolly person? With them, they make you happy too, right?

Of Insecurity and all that

Beautiful Humankind,

I’ll tell you something dark and hidden today. Maybe, a dark secret you’d call.

Listen. Just listen to me carefully.

When I look at the glittering stars above, I’d sense myself like a little tiny piece of object sparkling in its own way. But the next moment, you come to my mind. The darkness; the negativity; the aura of someone spying and it haunts me when it isn’t supposed to.

I remember yesterday when I was coming back from college, a group of men stared at me from bottom to top, not top to bottom. I call them bastards. You may call them a jerk. Oh, Yes, Yes. I just forgot that it’s a common ritual for men to stare at girls and pass some lewd comments. Why am I even cribbing? I’m really sorry. I should’ve been comfortable with all these daily on-going rituals.

During one odd night, when a very genuine friend of mine speaks about making love, I’m scared. I’m scared to a level that I can’t even let him touch me. Because the other day, an elderly drunken uncle on my flight back home tried squeezing my breasts and I couldn’t really scream. Can you just imagine what it felt like? That day, I’d experienced this feeling of getting blank. I learned what getting blank feels like.  But, it’s okay, right? It just happens with girls. It’s okay. Just relax. What are you supposed to do? Girls, Just be alert every time, right? I’m really sorry. I should’ve learned to accept the same from the society.

When I’m a little drunk, I ask my close friends to take care of me. Because it doesn’t take time to get molested and raped and who are you to blame? YOURSELF. You shouldn’t have been to the party late at night. Sorry, your fault.

Let me tell you, it isn’t okay. Not even to a level you could imagine. It haunts you. It just haunts you. It makes you vulnerable to things you aren’t supposed to. It makes you question about men who are good and genuine. It makes you question about kindness. It makes you question about security. And it’s scary.

At this moment, while I’m safe at my place. I wish every girl get the spirit to overcome everything they’ve come across and be safe.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the society we’ve nurtured. I’m sorry for the strange fear and the insecurities. And I’m sorry for all the girls who’re insecure even at 2 in the morning.

You, Me and The Bird

Beautiful Humankind,
We aren’t songs.
We aren’t stories.
We aren’t perfect.
We are humans. And we aren’t always strong.
Wait. I want you to do me a favour. Will you?
Pause for a while.
And then look around.
at the little birds flying, Could you see?
We are like the birds,
with dreams and wings,
with wishes and destination,
with hope and zeal,
But unlike the bird,
You and I aren’t hopeful.
We give up,
We give up on our dreams.
We give up on ourselves,
You see,
We aren’t perfect.
We are the lyrics of the song.
We are the characters in the story.
We are imperfectly perfect.
You, me and the bird. All of us. 

Oddity

Beautiful Humankind,

“You know, it’s scary.”

“What?” Looking at the busy streets he asked.

Like, you know, how just like you and me, most of us work to make things successful. To have perfection in everything we do. Indeed, to love perfection. Where planning starts much before we’ve initiated any idea and you know, how stupid we’re to have planned everything, every now and then.

And then there are a few of us, a few like you and me, who enjoy the little droplets of rain. Who could make time to feel the hazy clouds moving in a uni direction during the busy odd hours of their lives. Who smiles even after knowing that they aren’t being photographed. Who enjoys the little something without “planning” and without thinking of “perfection.”

You know, it scares me to be successful and unsuccessful at the same time.

 

Of feelings and emotions

Dear Distance,

You weren’t something very meaningful for me until the last few years. To be honest, I didn’t really bother to think what changes you could ever bring. And who thinks about the changes until and unless you experience it, right? I thought you were a tiny one and you wouldn’t be influencing my life this easily. But as usual, I was wrong. Like, completely wrong.

I must tell you, you’ve a different kind of capacity. Capacity to crave for someone at 3 in the morning or to make someone lose forever is all in your hands. I want to ask you, how did you manage to incorporate such talents?  I mean, how did you happen to be so versatile, that you could either make or break.

Dear Distance, Thank you for giving that intense feeling of meeting your favourites after so long. I hope you understand that happiness in the eyes or that different feeling in your stomach. Yes, I’m talking about that kind of happiness. Or else I’d never completely known the value of a person and what craves you to meet them. You know, there have been days when I hate you to a different extent. Days like, “Hey! What’s up? Oh, okay, You’re busy. I’ll call you later.” And that later never came. Or days like, “I can’t manage time for you.” I also want to thank you for bridging the gap and letting me know that we could still make it after such a distance. You see, most of my best friends are long distanced. And we’ve managed it well. You were smart, but we went an inch more to overcome your smartness.

What do you call a person who loves and hates you at the same time? If you figure it out, let yourself know that I’m that person. But at the end will you mind being a little more flexible?

With love and hatred,

Emotions.

You and Me

Beautiful Humankind,

Unlike yesterday,
Let me fall in love with you today,
And when I tell you I’m in love,
I’ll love more of your scars
And less of your perfection,
And unlike yesterday,
I’ll love more of me
And more of you.
And we’ll call it a
Perfection.  

What Idol looks like?

Beautiful Humankind,

Do you ever wonder what Idol looks like?

Come, Come along with me. I’ll slowly run my mind through the traces and will dictate you some key points you’d feel worthy listening at this hour.

  1. Your mom and dad will always be your mom and dad. I repeat, YOUR. Before you try proving them wrong, I want to tell you, they’ll understand and they’ll totally feel you.
  2. No matter how smart or how educated you are, you’ll always need your parents. Sometimes for the sympathy and most of the times for the love, care and the guidance that nobody else would try giving you.
  3. Even at the age of 20, my little problem is always greater to them than the massive issues they are having. No wonder, they won’t even mention about their sufferings.
  4. They tell you, “I know, this must be difficult. My girl, you’re struggling.” I want them to know that my grandma has secretly dictated me the stories of how you’d struggled. About dad being the superhero in that story.  At that point of time, I considered it as a story. Fairytale, you see. Today I came to know it’s wasn’t just a struggling painful story. It was one real struggling story of dad. I wish I could tell you how tiny my struggles are when kept before what you’ve been through.
  5. Through years I’ve learnt that you learn by observing. And when people ask me how you’d been so kindest, I don’t really know what to tell them. For I have seen my family members showering each one they meet with the kind blessings. I don’t know what Kinder or kindest is. I just know the word kind. Like some famous people say, “What you see is what you learn.” I learnt what I saw.
  6. I realise that it’s important, to be honest, and to make them believe that they are an integral part of our lives. I know that we’re all busy and we barely have time. But But, we do believe in priorities, right? Let me keep this straight, they’re your PRIORITIES. Believe me, they will always enjoy talking to you. ALWAYS.
  7. We talk about the time when we have no time. We talk about this era as one powerful era. What’ve we actually done to make it all worthy? I’ll suggest you something, let’s make some time to sit with our parents and discuss something you’ve always wanted. Your dreams, your life, your friends, your friend circle. Let them meet your friends. Talk deep. I’m telling you it’ll make sense. It always made sense to me. Trust me on this; they’ll always love being your listening ear. Tell them stories of how college was and how as usual you were late for the first class. Ask them how their days were. I’m sure they will understand you more than you could ever believe. And they’d love sharing what made them go long during the day.
  8. At last, on your every long/short travelling journey, you’ll always find your dad being overprotective and your mom will always pack some extra homemade food for you.
  9. When asked about blessings, I don’t know what form it takes. But I’m sure such family is no less than a complete blessing.

Do you even wonder what Idol looks like? Look around, you’ll find one.

 

 

And why not?

Beautiful Humankind,

When I was a kid, I used to look into the mirror and whisper something. I don’t really remember it well, but I do remember that it made some sense.

Remember those childhood days, when for every good task you did in school or at home someone was there to reward you? At times with some of your favourite words like, “You’re love” or “I told you, you’d done great!”  And at times with some materialistic love. Don’t you remember those mark sheets that detailed you about all your subjects and how you’d smartly boasted about it? Haven’t we all been through those days?

I’m in my twenties and as a sit in the corner of my bed with a cup of coffee, I wonder how’d life turned to be if we were still rewarded. I wonder if we had a score card of life instead of the mark sheet we got at school, would we still be able to pass in all the subjects. Had the scorecard represented everything you’d think about yourself, would we still be boasting about our results? In that case, we’d be more positive I guess.

Most importantly, how determined we’d be if we were to reward ourselves. I mean, no one is to prepare the score card. You prepare your own score card of your life. Sounds interesting, right? If for every day we had a small diary where we could record all the feelings we had today, and for every positive feeling about yourself you scored a double, would you still be so insecure of yourselves? What if even today, for every little task you’ve accomplished someone was there to tell you, “Yes, I was sure you’d done that!”, would you still conserve your mind with the negativity? For every time you lose confidence in yourself, you lose one important trait of your personality, would you still be less confident of yourself?

For every 3 a.m. night, when you feel low, how beautiful it would’ve been if you could convince yourself that you’re a sparkle. That you’re strong enough and no anyone could ever make you feel less worthy. If the securities came not from the locked doors of your home, but from the warmth within, maybe within we’d be more secure? If for every second you feel hopeless, you’d lose a considerable amount of score in the scorecard of your life, would you still be this hopeless? If you’d love your heart the way you want someone else to do, would you still think of hatred?

I wonder. I wonder. Sometimes, I look at myself and wonder I could be the perfect version of myself. That we could all do whatever we’ve ever wished to if we were positive enough to have not thought of any negative vibes coming around. You see, there is so much we could do in ourselves.

And like my childhood days, I looked at the mirror once again and I whispered something.

“Hope.” The vibrations remain the same since childhood.

The Kiss

Beautiful Humankind,

I slowly laid my mouth on her and we kissed for the first time. She tasted beautiful. Her mouth tasted of chocolate with a pinch of vanilla that I had hated until yesterday. I caress her back with my little fingers and she gave a very shy smile. The next second, we both look at each other and our eyes completed the talking in silence. I could feel her. I could hear her heavy breath which sounded like the rain slapping through the window. It sounded musical. Everything seemed musical.

I could smell roses. It felt like some tiny petals of roses are flowing all around leaving its wonderful smell. She smelt of soap. She smelled exquisitely beautiful.  I could figure out she had definitely used the rose body wash to have come up with such fragrance. Something fascinating, something that allures you, she smelt that magical.

I slowly plucked her hair behind the ears and I kissed her. I kissed her ears, her neck, her thighs, her hands. I kissed her skin. I made love.

She shivered a little. And then a little. And finally, she was trembling badly. You see, this is what we do in love. Knowingly, Unknowingly, We hurt the other person a little.