Forever Yours

Photo Credit: http://aruarian-dancer.deviantart.com

Dear Winter,

Come soon, come fast. Engulf me in your frozen arms. Hide me in your frozen heart; away from the fires of passion & desire, away from the flame of hope. Take me down to the icy depths of your soul & leave me there until the fire of hatred inside my own turns to ash. Numb all that is inside me. Rob me of my wait for tomorrow’s sunrise. Rob me of my will to live. Leave me a wretched, broken soul in a body consumed by cold, dark nothingness. & then show me a ray of sunlight, just a little ember of beauty from between the dark clouds shrouding my soul. Show me just enough mercy so that I might be reborn. Give me enough support so that I might stand up again. & then let me go. Forget me. Never call on me again. For I wish to be free of you, as you would be free of me.

Forever yours.

The Right Answer

If we could taste music, what would it taste like?

If we could feel each & every photon of sunlight that hits our skin, what would that feel like?

If we could see time flying past us, what would it look like?

If there were indeed colors to the wind, what would they be?

If there was true magic in the world, where would it be?

If there was a strand for passion in our DNAs, how dominant would it be?

& if there were answers to all these questions, where would they be?

Hidden somewhere deep in the soul, perhaps. A place you could only get to if you were truly dedicated to finding them.  A place you could visit only in times of semi-conscious existence, a place where the waking world would border on a sleepy yawn, a place where the horizon can be touched.

Indeed the answers exist. But are we too scared to look into ourselves, into our primal truth, to find them? That one answer rests in the heart, yours & mine.

Perfect World... Or Is It?

Alright, so what if one day we were all to wake up & realize that we are actually happy? What if we woke up to realize only that all the children in Uganda have sufficient food & quality education? & no Ethiopian was dying slowly of AIDS? & that the Gaza Strip was no more a war zone? & that Kashmir, none of it, was disputed? & there were really no discriminations based on complexion or ethnicity?

How happy you would be that day?

& then, suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the hungry children or the people dying of AIDS, because you just realized you’re out of toilet paper.

Bummer, init?

Is It You?

Image Credit: http://wakeupandlive.wordpress.com/

It’s your eyes, isn’t it?

Your eyes, deep & understanding, are what make people fall in love with you.

Your eyes are what make people trust people trust you, open up to you.

Or maybe it’s your hands, isn’t it?

Your hands, soft yet strong, make people want to hold on.

Your hands are what make people want to never let go.

Or maybe it’s your heart, isn’t it?

Your heart, beautiful & pure, is what takes people by surprise.

Your heart is what makes people want to be loved back.

Or maybe it’s just you.

It is just you, isn’t it?

True Irony

Have you ever wished someone so much unhappiness that you wish to see them break down, fall to their knees & cry like a child in front of you? Have you ever wished someone so much pain that every morsel of your soul wants to see them only suffer & burn? Have you ever wished someone so much hate that you wanted everyone to look at them with disgust & foreboding?

I have.

& all this usually comes after you’ve wished someone all the happiness, all the love & all the respect this world has to offer, after you’ve loved so much that only God could take it out of your heart, after you’ve been broken so badly that only God might put you together, but He is busy with so many other tormented souls.

But what’s worse, when you wish them all the unhappiness & the pain in the world, they usually are rewarded with it. & seeing them breaking down & suffering, you can never truly be happy either.

That is the whole point of irony, I guess.

Contempt

Credit: http://sadwonderland.deviantart.com/

Basically, every time I look around me there’s someone standing there who wants to be seen, who wants to be heard, who wants the world to know they exist. 

Every time I step out of my shell of self-obsession, I witness someone coming out of their shell of self-loathing. 

Every time I think about becoming a better person, I see someone striving just to survive. 

& every time I learn a lesson; I’m better fed, I’m better clothed, I’m better off. 

But that doesn’t humble me, it only makes me more contempt. Is this the human condition? Or is it just me? 

Every time I look around, the questions make me look away.

A Corner Full of Words

I’m pretty sure there’s a whole lot of stuff everyone wants to do with their lives. I’m no different, although I’m pretty sure I’m VERY different.

*Yes, I tend to strut around, head held high, pointing condescending fingers at everyone else, sue me!*

But here’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve wanted a corner of the world all to myself, a little corner, with shelves & shelves full of books, of different genres, from different authors, the classics & the contemporaries & all the beauty that words can hold. & I want to put in the middle of that corner a high backed, deep seated, mahogany colored leather armchair. & I wanted to sit there, with a steaming cup of coffee resting gingerly on one arm of the chair & a book in the other hand, & I want to lose myself in the brilliance of another’s imagination.

& here comes the catch. I know I most probably am not the only one with this desire of social-regression. I’m pretty sure there are others who are like me, who will appreciate this corner as much as I would & who would want a place to spend those chilly winter evenings. As Lennon said, “I may be a dreamer but I’m not the only one.”

*Yes, I consider myself to be of the same intellectual standards as Lennon, sue me!!*

But what if this corner could be real? What if there was a place where we could spend those dull winter evenings? What if there was a place where the warmth of imagination was all it took to uplift a bunch of dampened spirits? What if there was a place where people of all ages could sit for a while & leave inspired? What if there was a place that smelled of old parchment & freshly bound classics? What if there was a place where you could be surrounded by the beauty of poetry, fiction, horror & romance? What if there was a place which sold words?

*Height of wishful thinking, I know, sue me!*

So all of you who are dreamers like me, the intellectuals in a society full of fools, mail me a generous check & let’s see what can be done about this corner.

*So I actually wasted at least 10 minutes of your time trying to sell you an idea. I’m brilliant, sue me!* 

Grain of Sand

The whole world I wish to travel; across boundless seas & treacherous hills & forests of beasts.

What is it I wish to find? Maybe it is the chaos that my serenity has deprived me of. Maybe it is desire that fulfillment has satisfied. Maybe I simply wish to find myself, or maybe I wish to find if I might still be loved. Maybe I wish to find the purpose of my existence, or maybe I wish to find nothing at all.

But what if, in the end of a tiring, perilous journey, I come upon the one discovery I did not expect? What if, in the end, I find truth? What if, in the end, I find God? What am I to ask of Him? Or from Him? What am I to say? What am I to do? Do I ask Him for forgiveness for things that I still might not have done? Do I ask Him to tell me what exactly is my existence for?

Do I implore Him for reason? Do I beg Him for mercy? Or do I sit there quietly, humbled, & wait for Him to take my hand?

But what if, in the end, I find all that I’m looking for? But what if, in the end, the world is enough for me?

Maybe fate is a silly thing. Maybe I might not then be ready. Maybe I might still be a mere mortal, a grain of sand.

There Must Be.

There must be a place, filled with better days, where the world doesn’t frown on a young heart’s smallest desires.

There must be a place, filled with the promise of hope, where fate is not cruel but kind & understanding.

There must be a place where wishes are horses & beggars do ride, to better fortunes & fulfilled appetites.

There must be a place where you & I walk straight towards the horizon, where there is no fork in the road.

There must be a place where love is  undefeated. 

Kicking Life's Ass & Other Musings

Summer Vacations. *sigh*

FEAR ME! Or be eaten by the Foosa. Your choice, really.

The two months of excruciating boredom which make everything interesting lose its charm.

Why can’t life be easier? Why can’t we have a week off after every 2 weeks of work? Why doesn’t the world work the way I want it to? After all, I AM the bomb. (Self-obsession – The Key to Annoying the Everyone)

I have an Xbox. I could play all day. But I don’t. It’s boring.

I have a TV. I could watch movies all day long. But I don’t. It’s boring.

I have a laptop. I could Facebook all day. & I do. But it’s boring now.

It’s like - I have a life. I could live it. But I’m bored shitless.

Shakespeare would’ve had a field day if he were told to write the story of my life. “To do or what not to do, that is the real question.”

I’m being random again, aren’t I? I think I am. This is what the world has made me, I tell u. it has turned me into a raving lunatic who talks gibberish, mostly to herself & then complains about not being heard. Sad, init? *weeps*

In other news, my attention span got even shorter. & people said there was no room for improvement in me. Well, IN YOUR FACE, world! *HUH* I can no longer go beyond the “but” in “butterfly” or the “Wy” in “Wyoming” or the… Ooh, rainbow!

Life is a sad little thing. For most of us, it ends before we’ve had the chance to kick it in the butt.  But anyone who does manage to do it, could you please call me over so I can watch? I can bring food! *flashes puppy eyes*

I, on the other hand, am waiting for the day when I get to tell life tha…….. Oooh, worms.

I Would Tell You This

I'm sitting in my room, holding the phone in my hand, debating whether to call you or not. If I called you, I don't know what I would say to you.

I wouldn't pester you for reasons.
I wouldn't ask you what you thought went wrong.
I would tell you that I'm standing right where you left me, in the rain, confused like a child & helpless like a cripple.
I would tell you that I miss your laughter, the way you would fall over, clutching your sides because of something I said or did. I pray nothing steals that laughter.
I would tell you that I miss you telling me that I'm amazing, even though I know that's not true. I pray nothing changes your perspective.
I would tell you that I miss the way you'd complain about everything, even though I hated it. I pray you find contentment wherever you are.
I would tell you that I miss you.
I would tell you how I'm not angry or offended or confused, but hurt, and maybe broken. But the beauty of anything that is broken is that it can be fixed.
I would tell you that I still close my eyes & see your face, & I reach my hand to yours & feel the warmth & gentleness of your hand in mine.
I would tell you that I'm afraid of waking up in the mornings because I'm scared that the dream will break & you will again be out of reach, just a bit too far.
I would tell you that I'm standing right where you left me, in the rain.

So, I'm dialling your number, hearing the dial-tone, I hear a click as you pick up the phone. But I hang up before hearing your voice. I've suddenly realized I have nothing to say.

So I've Been Thinking...

Don't you dare get on my bad side!

Maybe what I’m doing isn’t right, maybe it’s the worst thing ever. Maybe I’ll let you people be the judge… Or maybe not. *Puts on game face.* Because you see, people only judge you by projecting their own thoughts on to you.

Yes, these are teenage revelations! *blah* What do you expect from me?! I’m mentally still 16!

BEWARE! Ranting(s) ahead. Proceed with caution.

But I hate the world & all those people who judge other people only because they don’t fit their own weird definition of normal. I’m NOT normal, I’ve never been. I don’t like being normal either. Normal sucks, big time. *bout of imaginary vomiting* I haven’t even wanted to be one-with-the-crowd since I was in 5^th grade. What stirred this rebellion inside my, at that time, kid brain, is a completely different story. But I knew then *drum roll* that I would never be a part of the crowd, no matter what kind of a crowd it is.

So what if I’m fat?!

So what if I can say what’s on my mind & not be ashamed of it?!

So what if I don’t have my own personal agenda?!

So what if my life does not revolve around how I look like when I leave home in the morning?!

So what if I don’t care what people think about me?!

Here’s the deal: SEE.IF.I.CARE!

& really, if any one of you smartasses comes up with the “clever” retort that I would not have had the need to shout all this out to the world if I actually didn’t care, well, you can just reserve your comments for a better, sportier audience! *glares*

I’m a one-of-a-kind person. Yes, you may argue that we are all different in some way & bla bla bla. But, really, go rain on someone else’s parade. I don’t need people to tell me what I can’t handle or who I’m not or what I couldn’t possibly do! They should all realize that they are posing me with challenges I have no time to punch down BECAUSE I actually have a life!

Haven’t I just made your day? This is after all what you wanted to read, wasn’t it? My thoughts. That is why you are on this page, right now, right here, in this glorious moment. You have been saved. Your soul has been salvaged. You are now a (little bit more) free (than you were 5 minutes ago, assuming that’s how long it took you to read this) person!

You all make me proud! I make me proud! *victory dance*

& now for some more… zzzZZZzzz

(With that I shall be leaving you in the dark, till my creative bug bites again!)

One Fine (Crazy) Morning

In the past few weeks I’ve been trying like hell, with all my heart, to be a little more random, the way almost all the people around me are. But I think I’m just not cut out for it.

So the conclusion I came down to: I can’t be any more random than I already am!

I’m not random in the South Park or Sponge Bob or Family Guy or Barney Stinson way (no matter how hard I try to be, to fit into the “Random People’s Club”) but I’m random in my own specific way. For example, ………. zzzZZZzzz……….. What was I saying? Oh yeah, the randomness…. So ………. zzzZZZzzz….. So do you get it now?

I think I’m actually going crazy now. I have nothing to write about! *panic* Writer’s block, maybe? Or is it just a lack of inspiration? I think lack of inspiration! There’s not enough hotness around (NOT referring to the weather) to inspire me! *evil snickering*

So where is all the hotness? (I have a vague recollection of asking this question before. *thoughtful humming*) I think I’ll go get some food, or maybe I should just annoy someone? Food or annoying someone? *weighing the options* Do you feel annoyed now that you wasted a perfect 5 minutes of your life reading complete random gibberish? You do, don’t you? Now you’re trying to cover it up with fake laughing just so you don’t feel like an idiot.

YES! I can read minds! *points threateningly* & YOU ought to stop thinking about the left-over pizza in the fridge & get some work done.

I’m bored now. It’s been too much randomness now. I must sleep now, rejuvenate the random bone. *counts sheep*

Red

There were echoing screams in her head as she ran; ran past the houses, past the fences, past the trees, into the perfect round clearing, lit by the moon, surrounded in a perfect circle with solemn blood-red roses, & in the middle of the clearing, she kneeled, & cried out to the Heavens, “Why?”. She screamed until there was no more air in her lungs, she screamed until she was sure the Heavens had heard her.

& a breeze blew, soft & gentle, cool as the moonlight shining on her skin, & she knew then Heaven wasn’t alone in hearing her cries. & without even turning around, she knew he had come for her. & without a question, she gave her soul away.

& that night, the Heavens wept.

So, God...?

So, as a last resort, I turned to God. Yes, that sound pathetic, He should’ve been the first thing on my mind. But I’m a member of the “hip” generation, not really my fault.

Anyway, so, I’m not exactly praying. Technically, I am praying. But what I’m really doing is negotiating. I’m discussing my terms with Him. Yes, it’s a one-way conversation. But what the hell, right? Oops, sorry God, I know I’m not allowed to swear, but blame my generation.

So I’m asking Him to negotiate with me on the possibilities of what I want. He’ll throw in the full possibility of me getting what I want & I’ll join UNICEF? No, that’s not really what you want is it?

What about 85% possibility & I’ll donate all my shoes. Fine, I know I don’t have enough of those for even me, it’s because of the economic depression, no one has enough shoes these days.

Ok, what about 50% possibility & I’ll pray every day? I’m thinking you’re agreed to that,& yes, I know prayer changes destiny. But please just write 50% possibility into my destiny, please?

So, I’m thinking God & I have reached an agreement. Although it was a one-way conversation, but I think I’m going to go with the gut feeling I have that He’s happy with the last option!

Prayer changes destiny. Hopefully for the better.

& Again

Let’s fall in love again. Let’s try one last time. Let’s be all we wanted to be. Let’s not give in this time.

But this time, let’s not make the promises. The shard of those previously broken still litter the plains of my memory. Let’s not make plans this time. The ones we left unfinished still haunt me in my dreams. Let’s not say “forever” this time. It is not certain, it is not possible, does not exist.

Let’s fall in love once again.

Let’s try one last time.

Acceptance

It’s funny how loss doesn’t really seem like loss once you know it’s inevitable. Then it just starts to feel like a transition from one state of events to another.

I think I’ll let go now, of all that we were. I’ll forget all those nights, all the laughter, all the stupid jokes that no one else will ever know. I think I’ll let you go your own way now as I chalk out a new one for myself, maybe this time I’ll add a few more thorns in my wake, so another like you doesn’t follow me like you did so many years ago. I think I’ll let you go now & maybe never think of you again or maybe I will think of you again, on stormy nights when the window of my soul will be battered by the raindrops of a million unshed tears.

I think I’ll let go of you now. & in letting you go, I’m left with nothing to fight for, nothing more to ask for. I think I’ll let go of you now & bury a part of me right beside you. I think I’ll let go of you now & be whole once again.

But will I? Will the thought of you stop haunting me somewhere before eternity comes & goes? Will the hint of your presence elude me ever? Will you let me go?

Will you remember, in times when you begin to blame me for your failures & loss, you asked me for all this? Will you remember how the sunlight was reflected in my tears? Will you remember how I begged? Will you remember me?

I’m not going to be remembered, am I? For you, I’ll cease to exist the moment I move beyond your sight. For you’ll I’ll be a dream that you remember but only vaguely, the beautiful details confined to your sub-conscious. For you, I’ll be nothing.

So I think I’ll let you go now & be whole once again.

Secrets

There are times when there are words that I choose not to say & there are stories you choose not to hear. But still you listen, in the middle of the night, when the world lies silent, to the steady beat of my heart, hoping that it will share secrets with you that my lips dare not.

Why do we choose? Why can’t we just be? Why can’t we just remain in a state of eternal happiness where nothing disrupts the presence of my mind except for the thought of you being a bit too close?

Hold my hand, not in the dark where there is no one but me, but in the light, where everyone must see to whom I belong. Hold me close enough to raise eyebrows but not questions. Hold me where I do not overstep your boundaries & neither you, mine.

Let’s find reasons for the guilty pleasures & nonsense in the legalities. Let’s stand in the rain & do nothing or maybe dance on dry sand. Let’s be who they think we are.

Listen tonight, when the world lies silent, to my steady heartbeat. The last secret goes out into the open tonight; promise me devotion & my soul is yours for the keeping. 

Heaven

(A while back, I put in an entry for a one-line story competition. Although not the best one there, but it is MY story.)

Once upon a bright, beautiful day, a piece of Heaven fell down from the sky, on my head; it was a picture of you, the final piece of my puzzle.

Coincidences & Clichés

I think God wrote my life out to be a tragic comedy. There are funny coincidences which are prequels to devastating clichés. There’s laughter, no doubt, but it’s covered in a shroud of sadness. There’s tunnels leading to sure fire consequences & then there’s tunnels not leading anywhere. There’s a mountain of confusion, from behind which a faint shimmer of hope glows. There are smiles that struggle through tears every day; there are tears that hint of a dam about to break. There are questions with answers that need not be spoken; there are questions with no answers at all. There is depression & sadness; there is joy & a trail of guilty pleasures. There are broken promises. There are badly kept secrets. There are open books with empty pages; there are libraries full of words. There are faces; there are voices. There are broken windows & boarded doors. There is no way in. There is no way out. I could leave, yes. But then who would be there to shoulder the burdens & share the loss? I could leave, yes. But then who would be there to watch you fall & let you find your way back up? I could leave, yes. But then where would you find another me?

I think God wrote my life out to be a tragic comedy; coincidences, clichés, et al.

Forever (Short Story)

One bright, sun-shiny day, a boy met the world. Well, actually, he only met this one girl, & for a while it felt like she was the whole world. She walked right past him first. Then came back & asked if he knew what time it was. A general question really, but one from her that made his mind boggle. He looked at his wrist-watch, told her the time. Oh, how much energy had it taken to say “4:15” at that moment.

He watched her run to the ticket booth & he felt his heart bleed in prayer, “If there is a God, please let her be on the bus with me, please let her sit on the seat next to me.” If he had known the importance of that one prayer & that one moment, he would’ve asked for her forever.

They announced that it was time to board & in the chaos that ensued, when people rummaged to pick up their luggage & run to the terminal, he lost sight of that girl, something he kept cursing himself for. He went to the bus, lost all hope except for a dim glow. He sat in his seat, the adjacent one empty still. & that one light glow of hope kept his eyes glued to the door of the bus. &, in his heart, he kept praying for a miracle. & then it happened. She walked in. & then he prayed for another miracle, & it happened. She kept looking at the seat numbers & found her seat was the one next to him, beside the window. As he got up to let her pass, she gave him a smile, a smile with enough familiarity in it to make a man feel loved.

She sat there, pulled out a book from her bag, opened to the bookmarked page & was lost in it even before the bus left the terminal. His heart was swollen beyond measure at the joy. He went over & over in his mind at how to start a conversation, how to talk to her, how to tell her he’s never seen anything like her & he’d burn his eyes before he ever did. In that moment, all he wanted to do was make this beautiful stranger his, keep her smiling forever. In that moment, beyond a doubt, in spite of all the impossibilities, he knew that he could make her his.

It took him one hour (of a four hour journey) to get up the nerve to talk to her, & before he even opened his mouth, she closed her book & told him she was hungry. It was nothing significant, just a starter for some small-talk. But, boy, did he feel special. They kept on talking, all through the journey, all through the stop they made for some tea, all through the rest of the journey. He told her stuff about him, stuff that everyone knew, stuff that wasn’t so special, but stuff that he wanted her to know. She told him stuff about her, stuff that was recent, not going too far in the past for it would’ve scared him off, but stuff that kept his attention.

They were nearing their destination. & he wanted time to stop right there & then. He wanted to tell her that he felt he knew her, that he felt he could get to know everything about her, that he could love her for everything she was & for everything she was yet to become. He wanted to ask her not to leave. He wanted her.

& the bus came to a stop. She smiled & said, “Home, at last!” What was that in her voice? There was something he heard, something that caught his attention. But she got off then, waited for her luggage. He kept watching her, begging God for her not to go. But she got her luggage, started to walk towards the exit. He stopped her, wanting to say a million things, wanting to tell her everything. But what if she was disgusted? What if she left & the only memory of him in her mind was that of a shameless man? So he changed his words,“Is there someone coming to pick you up?”

He watched her walk away, get into a car & leave. He stood there & watched her leave. Funny how he felt like his world was collapsing around him. He picked up his bag & walked away. But, in that one moment, he was changed from a man of chance to a broken man, with no interest in anything, with only a memory of perfection.

& as she sat in the car, on her way to home, she couldn’t fight the tears she felt. & she couldn’t understand why there were tears in the first place? She had wanted to tell him that she felt she knew him, that she felt she could get to know everything about him, that she could love him for everything he was & for everything he was yet to become. She wanted to ask him not to leave. She wanted him. But she knew without a doubt, because of all the impossibilities, they just could never be.

Little did they know, God was listening that day. The only word they forgot to say was ‘forever’.

Life's True Pleasures

Lying in bed, listening to David Cook’s “Daily Anthem”, waiting for the sleep in my eyes to take control of all my senses for the night, I realized something very interesting about myself. It’s interesting how all my character revelations come to me at times when I least expect them to.

Well, what I realized was that I’m an empty-minded person. By this, I don’t mean that there are no thoughts in my head, believe me there are plenty for each one of you. But what I really mean is that, the main thought process is happening in the background, just like a computer performs background functions. In the main arena, in the front of my mind, there is nothing.

I know people who are always thinking, using all of their minds for sometimes the most pitiful things; gossip being the worst of them all. I tried to think of something like they do, tried to stop the background functions & use the whole of my brain to focus on some of the people I know are utter losers (No offense! =P) but within seconds, a pain shot out of (metaphorically) the middle of my brain & erupted like a volcano. I had to stop my chain of thoughts & as soon as I did, the pain went away.

I’m not saying I’m some kind of genetic mutation, evolution research project. But, on the basis of my, afore mentioned, character revelation, I would like to say that I’m somehow a better person. Not because I am like a computer with the background functions and all, but I think I can better concentrate on more important things this way. Without gossip, or other such germs, diseasing my brain, I can put most of my thought process in the back of my mind where they can stew in the pit of my opinions & concentrate on higher priority issues/thoughts, for example; which color socks to wear or whether to order in or eat out.

It’s all a part of who you are I think. Again I’m not saying that I’m any better than the rest of the lot. But I’m a rare breed of humans who put an emphasis on the finer details of their lives. I’m the person who’ll put her flight bookings on hold just to find the right pair of flip-flops (right color, right pattern and right feel)!

The background functions are the big things, the obvious things. The focus is on the little things. Because the true pleasure is in the detail.

Our Failure & Nature's Tears

We all spend our days hoping, & even praying, for a better world, where there are no innocent killings, no B&Es, no pain, no suffering, no hunger. But really who are we kidding?

I might strike you like it, but I’m really not a pessimist, I was a real devout optimist who believed in the kindness of strangers & that there was some good in everyone. I believed in the good side of life for a very long time. I believed in “all rainbows & butterflies” like it was a religion. I believed right up till the moment I figured out that, basically, we’re all screwed.

The ice caps are melting, the oceans are drying, the natural fuels that everyone keeps fighting over are close to being replenished unless we find a new power source within the next 30-50 years. & what are we doing? We’re killing each other over oil. We’re killing each other in the name of religion. We’re burning down our own houses in the name of revolution. We’re slaughtering innocent people in public just because their views don’t match ours.

The world is coming to an end. Even nature has started revolting against humanity. The typhoons in North America, the floods in Pakistan, the earthquakes in China, the Tsunami in Japan; these are all nature’s way of telling humanity that it has had enough of our cruelty & treachery. We cut, we burn, we char. How many forests, how many natural habitats has mankind destroyed to make room for multiplexes & luxury housing schemes?

Everything has turned against us & our response is to turn on each other? The most intelligent life-forms (yet) in the world & we have resorted to barbaric practices. Make you feel proud to be a human, doesn’t it?

What we don’t realize is that we’re running out of time. & we’ve put our faith too much in inanimate objects rather than living, breathing people. & this, indeed, will result in the end of us even before the true end comes.

What we fail to realize is that humanity is failing itself & working its way to the bottom of the food chain pretty fast.

What we fail to realize is that we have failed.

Hallucinations

Sitting aimlessly, staring at the stars, searching for a purpose, hoping to God that there is a storm at the end of this silence, listening closely for even the hint of mayhem, looking for signs of grandeur in the dust settled on centuries of sin.

Is this what life truly boils down to? Or is this an illusion to shield from the bitter realities of the true world?

Where am I? What am I doing here? What am I supposed to do here? What is my purpose?

There are too many questions. No answers. Or maybe answers which I don’t want to hear. Or maybe my ears ring as the deafening silence that grips my soul.

There’s darkness, it pierces through my soul, plunges me deeper into doubt. But it kills the fear, slowly. Do monsters still exist? Have I become one yet?

I’m swimming to the shore, through a lake of blood, dying to survive. Can I make it? Or will this be the end of me? Is there no majesty for those of us who know life & yet do not wish death? Are we the prisoners of war that death has claimed?

Waking up in a pool of sweat, not knowing where I am. There’s darkness outside the window. There’s silence inside my soul. It’s happening all over again. Will I ever wake up? Will I ever be free?

No, no, no. A clock strikes in the silence. Death claims me once again. But my eyes open once again. Then it happens all over, once again. & again. & again.

Is this Hell? Or is this what it feels like to live eternally? Is anyone out there? Would someone please wake me up?

Love (Re)Defined

What happens when you fall in love? Is it all butterflies & rainbows? Is it all red & squishy? Or is it just a sham?

Well, I should know. I keep falling in love all the time. I think the first time I ever fell In love, & the only one that lasted really long, was when I was 8 years old & I heard the Backstreet Boys singing “All I Have To Give” on radio. I fell in love with Nick Carter that very moment. & that love story kept me warm & cozy all through junior & high school. Then I fell in love with George Clooney when I was in college. That was actually more of an admiration than love, but still, that is one hell of a guy. These days I’m in love with Jensen Ackles of the “Supernatural” fame. I’m pretty sure that I’m not the only one who is head over heels for that guy, but I’m willing to wrestle for him.

Some of you might call this hero worship, but I’m telling you, I’m still quite the sucker for a Nick Carter poster/photo. I’d plaster my walls with that blue-eyed, smoky smile. But I doubt my room-mate would like it.

But on a serious note, love, the true kind, isn’t butterflies & rainbows at all. There’s nothing like what happens in the movies. It’s actually nothing sudden at all.

Love is actually a feeling that grows on you, like fungus grows on bread, slow & permanent. It doesn’t happen in a moment. It happens after months of spending every memorable moment with a person. It happens after finding the other person at their worst & helping them back to their best. It happens after volumes of private jokes. It happens when you cross the line between waiting for them to answer your question to knowing the answer even before the question is raised.

Love isn’t something you can claim happened to you in first glance. They’re damn right when they say love is when you know the worst of a person & yet are willing to accept them, flaws et al.

Love isn’t only about the roses or the candle-lit dinners. It’s about the fights, the tears, the hollow goodbyes. Love isn’t only about the trust & all the truthfulness. It’s about the doubts, the fears & the little lies you tell just to keep everyone happy. Humor me here, love indeed is a paradox. But those who know love know I’m right.

Love is about making memories, together. Love is about fun, games & a little bit of tragedy to keep it young. Love is about life & appreciating its details.

Disclaimer: All opinions shared above are objective & will be subject to no more discussion. xD

Got Faith?

Having loads of time on your hands is never really a good thing. For lack of a better option you start exploring you mind, your own self. Honestly speaking, that never really led me to anything good except for even more troubling questions.

These days, having too much time on my hands, the only question that really troubles me is, (… Wait for it… Here it comes… *drum roll*) “What exactly is faith?”

Here’s my take on the subject:

See, every religion, every culture has their own ideas about everything. But I’m going to look at this from a non-religious yet monotheistic point of view. Faith isn’t really about belonging to any religion, or reciting from scriptures. Faith is about belief; the belief that there’s something bigger than us, belief that someone out there is listening to our prayers, belief that someone out there loves us more than we love ourselves & He is going to protect us from harm.

Although I don’t pray a lot but I know God is listening when I pray, even though I keep whining that He’s not. I know that there is a lot that I can’t control, a lot that is beyond me.

I think our belief in God is not really only dictated by religion. I think that our belief in God is because we need to know that there is someone out there bigger than us, more knowing than us, more powerful than us, who can set right the wrongs that we can’t.

Faith is about believing that He can set right all the wrongs. Faith is about believing that whatever sufferings we might be going through we will be rewarded for them in the hereafter or compensated for them in this realm. Faith is about the certainty that our prayers are heard. Faith is about knowing that He is there even if we can’t see them with our own eyes.

Faith is not about not questioning, but about doubting everything & then erasing those doubts through analysis, research & learning. Faith is not about living secluded in the woods, but about getting to know God’s men & finding Him within ourselves.

Faith is about believing.

Humanity For Sale.

We live in an age where the value of human life is determined by the price of oil in the stock market.

We live in a time when revolution means killing your own country-men & blowing a bus full of innocent children in the name of Jihad.

We live in a time when women sell themselves to feed their children who later discard them as pieces of meat for their unjust ways.

We live in an age where everything; morality, ethic, soul, has a price.

We live in an age where even the Devil hides in fear of the animal man has become.

Bravo to us, the human race, the saviors, the messiahs, the heroes for sale.

We’re moving in circles here, making shotguns & hunting humanity, making nuclear bombs & then blowing our own up.

Pretty soon we’ll become cannibals again, but modern ones, eating human flesh but with silver forks & knives.

Bravo for us, the human race, the heroes for sale.

Will Write For Food

Well, not really, will write only for money. Not too much though. *Peace!*

Since I’m going to be completely free for an indefinite period of time, I’d like something to do. I’m pretty good at writing stuff & it’s the one thing I can do without having to leave the comforts of my room (or even my bed).

So if anyone you know needs something to be put down in words, or even a little help with anything of the sort, I’m willing to oblige. & it won’t cost too much either.

Things that you can definitely contact me for:

·         Articles.

·         Article re-writing

·         Content writing

·         Reviews

·         Creative writing (I’m good with a variety of topics!)

·         How To…s

·         Short academic papers/reports/essays

So if you need help, email me at saba.tahirs@yahoo.com. Quality work is a guarantee.

P.S. I’m not above & beyond writing love letters either, if any of you need any help with those. LOL.

Crazy Thing Called Love

I was bitten once, smitten once, by this crazy thing called love.

What a feeling it was!

It was;

As if I was a flower, gently touched by the breeze,

As if I was the horizon, falling into the great blue sea,

As if I was a bird, flying home across the sunset,

As if I was a sandy beach, romantically moonlit,

As if I was something more than I truly am, something more than just a soul in a sculpture of sand, something more than just a heart full of sin beating in a body of stone, something more than a bag of flesh & bone, something less cursed, a little more blessed, something more than a finite number of breaths, something more than cheap suits & wine, something more than mortal, something divine.

It was as if an angel had come down from Heaven & not only touched my soul but bonded with it; not only made me beautiful but human as well, since all mankind has become is an animal in disguise.

It was as if a thousand blue-horn butterflies fluttered in my wake, a million red roses lined my path, & at the end of that path, he stood, wearing his heart on his sleeve, bearing a question in his eyes.

& with his lips he uttered the words that, till now, resonate in my soul.

Indeed, I was bitten once, by this crazy thing called love.

& I cherish the sting, as a warrior cherishes his scars.

What a feeling it was!

What a feeling it is!

Life Has Been Good To Me.

Indeed! xD

Life has always been a little too much for me; a little too much happiness, a little too much tragedy, a little too much responsibility & a little too much revealing.

Maybe it’s also been a little too kind at times, a little too harsh at others.

But it’s surely been a little too demanding at times when I thought I didn’t have a lot to give, a little too much of a challenge right when I started doubting myself.

Life has always been a kind friend, a clever enemy. It has been sometimes unexplainably comforting, at times heart-breakingly hostile.

Then again life gave me lessons which were sometimes too hard to come by, sometimes too obvious to miss.

Life made me realize that sometimes I am a little too mean, sometimes a little too friendly, sometimes a little too confident, sometimes a little too doubtful.

Life also showed me that I was loved enough, cared for too much.

It also showed me that sometimes people might not agree with what I have to say, sometimes people might not even care, sometimes people might even hate me, but it’s all in a day’s work.

Life has been the kind of professor who forces you to stay up nights working on a paper & then throws it in the trash because you misspelled your name.

But life has been good to me.

& for that I’m grateful.