Promise me that you won’t let yourself stoop down anymore, Promise me that you won’t run away this time like other times, Promise me that you won’t hide yourself from the sunshine, Promise me that you will stay here and face those delinquent beasts of your nightmares,
Promise me you will let yourself feel Not just the misery, pain or fear but care, kindness and forgiveness.
Promise me that it’s the last time you have picked the shards of the glass and pierced your skin like making a piece of an art! Except that it isn’t art but hurt.
Art is You, your higher self, the esteem with which you hold yourselfwith.. You are created by the greatest creator, supreme artist, You are precious. More precious than anything in the universe.
So Love, Now tell me.. why do you feel so weak? What hurts you that you can’t speak? What has stopped you from dreaming, desiring and describing yourself in a new definition? Who do you think have power enough to stop you?
Why do you forget that nothing holds more power and passion than you already have in your heart?
If strength was a human It would look like you. Not fierce but patient in its demeanor With a radiating smile on those parched lips, Calmly waiting for its turn to showcase its face, hidden behind the veil of unknown.
If strength was a human It would surely look like you. Unapologetically generous in its attitude, With a capability to drown your lingering nightmares and inhibitions.
Aren’t you happy with this?
Should I shift my focus from it to you ? I see a movement in strength, And I see you moving with it.
How did it happen? The veil is undone..
I would like to apologise now, I have made incorrect comparison Who would have thought? Strength doesn’t look like you But you are it!
I hope not to see you again Loitering around my heart or brain There is a shade that I have made With the hope it will not let the rain seep in again Soon the fertile land will be transformed to wasteland But if you succeed in demolishing the shade Maybe the shower will rekindle the land again but I hope not to meet you again !
“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” –William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar
Years back when I had first read Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare I didn’t know I would ever reflect back on his words. Centuries back it had given words to our mortality. A scene where Cassius was convincing Brutus about how fate isn’t something that drives our actions but instead it is the human condition responsible for everything has left an anomalous impact on me. Nothing of the play remained with me except for this one particular scene and dialogue . Why? I honestly don’t know.
As I tread back on my memory lane I think we have all walked on egg shells for few people who didn’t deserve that. And because we became accustomed to their presence so, we kept walking on further. Irrationally thinking that it was our destiny. Going to the extent of thinking that it was the fault of the stars that we met them. I second that because I did same. But was it truly worthy? After months of distancing my self from myself, I realised it wasn’t. I realised how for a bit of mortal love, we close our eyes easily. The signs are every where yet we choose to ignore them willingly.
“Ignorance is bliss” as it is said, negligence isn’t.I feel today that the later part was forgotten to be added by whoever first quoted the former part. So, my dear reader, now look, think and decide how many dead plants are you watering in your garden today? How many soul less bodies have you been feeding? How many disruptive minds have you been trying to align with?
And when you get the answer, take the roots of those dead plants and the soul less bodies and leave them in open space but away from yourself. Open your eyes and instead of aligning with the constant distractions, let your energy flow and let the universe find your right mould. No more walking on egg shells for anyone.
I have realised that no matter what you do, you can’t make everyone happy. It is laborious and flawed on everyone’s part to expect someone to be perfect. Afterall being perfect is sisyphus’s myth. Rolling an immense boulder up a hill for it to roll down everytime it neared the top.
All of us are walking towards an inevitable end. Sooner or later each one of us would reach the ultimate end. But the question is how do you want to reach it? What kind of journey should it be? One way is to enjoy the journey, every minute of your life. Drinking joys or savouring sorrow from the cup called life. And the other way is of crawling, struggling, putting other people first even sometimes, before your esteem. Being afraid of what will people think and acting to please.
Whatever you choose, it is your decision to reach that end by walking on any path. But remember you have got only one life to live. And because your time is limited so, dear reader breathe in and stop being fearful. Enjoy this Candyfloss before it starts melting.
What If I tell you it’s okay to be wrong, It’s okay to cry when you are broke, It’s okay to eat an extra cheese sandwich to feel strong, And it’s okay to write something that makes no sense,
And it’s Okay to use another And again! Because my dear, It’s Okay to be vulnerable sometime, To feel every emotion in depth,
But It’s not okay to be in that stage for long, As not every “handle with care” note is read by all, So, breathe a bit more deeper than usual and care for yourself, After all, you are going to live with yourself forever.
Apologies but there isn’t any Wonderland Even there isn’t Peter pan’s Neverland I am afraid to say This world doesn’t have tomorrowland You might be sad now To realise This barbaric truth and feel tired
Though for you it’s tough time And You need strength to be more than fine I want you to forget not, My dear Alice, You can bend for sometime But can’t be broken in this life time.
The ship has sailed days ago without me Before my eyes And I was left on this unknown island To live? No but to survive
Do they even realise I am not with them? Is there anyone to fill my space on that empty chair I would have sat on? Should I expect them to look around and search? Won’t they think,I intentionally hid? From what you ask? Oh, those demons who lurks in moonlight on that Queen ship
Will they come to take me back?
Do I need rescuing? I am afraid to confess But now I miss being nauseated on that giant vehicle The sun, the battle , the gargle of Quen’s engine. The words of the captain, asking everyone to come back in ten, not to hide or escape
Still I wandered and am lost, Ah! How eager was I to prove that those who wander never lost, but now I am And I am frightened each night
46 days, they are gone for this long with this last message , my hope as well
Sleep will engulf me dear reader. But I am grateful that you know that I existed Remember I lived till today.