Sometimes I want to say “I love you” out loud in the middle of the night then under my breath comes out “but”. In the silence and darkness of the night the but vanishes ,the but takes away the love for in love there are no it’s and buts and if there is any then is it really love ??

I feel the whimsical thought entangling me in the cobweb of emotional outburst. I feel like being high on drugs.

I have a new hobby these days wishing upon on stars at night to make me strong .I don’t think there’s any star left to be wished upon by me .

These days I laugh even harder than before when ever I feel too sick or tired .

These days I try picking up a new hobby every now and then trying to numb a part of my brain that refuses to let go of your thoughts. These days I am trying to tear the perfect picture of us .these days I have come to believe that ours is gonna be a different story frenzied ,crack ,broken and frail for our connection will always remain disconnected. These days I am trying to be sufficient for myself even if I wasn’t sufficient for you . These days instead of holding and clingling on to people ,I have trained my brain to love and let go ,love and let go .These days I am learning the art of kintsugi, mending broken pieces reshaping them and making them look beautiful than before , plastering them with paints and colours has become my new forte. These days i am learning to cherish the moments i lived once and willing to live more . These days i am trying to be more confident so that it wud be easy to stand you when we unknowingly bump into each other on the middle of the road. These days I am learning to let go of my anguish so that if ever I see you on the other side of the road I could atleast say hello rather than being strangers. These days i am learning to be happy and content for the rest of my little fucked up life. These days i no more strike the days off from the calender waiting for you to show up in my inbox . These days i seldom think about the limitations. These days i have started accepting changes for they teach me the art of letting go and appreciating .

These days I am learning to live again but this time without you

Ever been in a relationship ,feeling unwanted, left out, and blowed off by someone just like that?? Being soft hearted mortals we all have this tendency to keep wanting to feel wanted, respected ,loved the way we radiates our love to others. Many a times we keep checking time and again if the person we are inclined towards and is interested in is feeling the same way for us or not ? If someone likes us or not ? And what if someone doesn’t reciprocate or respond or abandons our call and text just like that what inference are we supposed to draw .How many more times would we call or text just to make sure ,the other person is busy , had a bad day, got caught up in some urgent work, met with an accident and last but not the least ,the phone got stolen . We cook up stories in our head just to console our heart.
               Where repeated ignorance is the sign of lurking red flags which more or less indicates that they are not into us .Another question that pops in to our head is why can’t he/she be upfront about the same? May be they don’t want to.
              While abandoning someone without any prior information can be unkind and rude but it also shows someone is not into us. Some people just don’t want to keep us in their priority list and we need to accept this with grace. Might be possible that we hardly get any recognition and hardly get noticed and what we do in return is start to make them feel our virtual presence by all means possible. And we call, for the zillionth time to make sure our intuition is not deceiving us .

The bitter truth is when both are equally interested the conversation not only flows but florishes and seem effortless Al along. This is not only applicable to romantic relationships but also professional and friendly relationship aswell.

The next problem is ways of approaching or stalking for self satisfaction. We call text , Instagram them or check when was the last time their profile showed online and atlast email them just to make sure they are not dead and after exhausting the phone battery and all our energy we come to the conclusion that may be we have been ghosted.

Now what does this hurly burly indicates about us ,the people juggling behind to get recognised and accepted ? This shows may be we don’t love ourselves enough and if we had the last drop of self respect then we wouldn’t have begged for sombodys else’s attention. In case of me I had always been like this ,a wet cat expecting to be picked up by someone with love and care. And I did everything I could in the process lost my confidence ,self respect and moral felt a void inside me not knowing if I could ever fill that with self love . After years of tormoil I looked at the closed circle of vetted friends and family of mine who I seldom talk to and it’s absolutely ok if I don’t get their calls or if I don’t call them back .no questions and most importantly my relationship with them is not at all threatened.

On the other hand there are people who keep hovering over us like a hungry krestel. They believe just because we coexist ,breath the same air together and bears empathy for the other person means we own them something . People who keep nagging are actually radiating negative vibes . They wrongly display themselves in front of people not interested. They are not self aware and are being disrespectful to them because they are willing to give that attention to themselves ,they are not willing to be content and happy with their own company. They broadcast to other people about the gaping hole which keeps increasing in size which is only to be filled up by the other person.

I have a lot of experience dealing with these people just because I was being nice, people would try to walk over me easily or prepare to feast on me .when confronted would explain how I am different from others but their word has hidden meanings like how in maximum possible ways I can be useful to them entertain them and how I can save them from the shit’s of life. I am not mother Teresa am I ?? I can’t be someone that they are not for themselves.

When we call a person and show them how much we care and how far we can go to fix things ,things only start to get worsen . We are triggered into chasing so much that we fail to realize if we need them anymore ? The desperation that we have for the other person is only a part of our energy that we are offering free.

We need to be self aware because a self aware human posses the power to gauge their own behavioural symptoms . They treat others the way they want to be treated. If they are compassionate , empathetic towards themselves then they would definitely project those attitude towards the other being.

We all have had rejections before , relationship failures and it’s all normal to go through the phase. It is the level of maturity that helps us get past it. As human beings it’s obvious to look for little attention here and their , try to fit in to groups we don’t actually belong to and to feel little better when remembered and get acknowledged . It’s important to understand and respect other persons decision. If people are ignoring us means we are ignoring ourselves . How can we seek respect from a unknown when we fail to respect our own self . The zillionth unanswered cal and never ending text messages projects their level of wanting for us.

So next time you get unnoticed gauge upon the red signs hovering over you and do not dine out at the table not meant for you.

12 pm to be exact. At this hour when it’s heavily pouring cat and dogs outside I struggle to make myself some tea. Watching the empty roads make me want to run openly in the street’s not caring about the people if there are any instead I crave for the one to sit right beside me. I don’t know if the other person I am thinking about is feeling the same way .I wonder if he’s watching the rain too for we have watched the moon together umpteenth times and now that there’s no moon and it’s getting darker and darker I am pushed to be alone.

There is this difference between escaping and accepting nausious feelings. Whenever I feel nautious I come across this playlist of mine . The captions perfectly matches to my situation. The only difference this time is there’s no you to share the song . I feel like stopping in the moment . I feel tired I have had enough juggle ,a part of me tells me to look back and see if I have gone far ? But I am afraid what if after a long time of walking I am still standing intact ,what if all this is a trap ,what if I have been chained all this while and I was running only to go back to the starting point. I feel so timid.

All this while when I am trying to be strong my friends think I am in pain. They are not incorrect when they say that. I shy away thinking how I have been living in vain when slowly turning insane . Spending nights is difficulty when I toss and turn till the lights go off and the sound of the clock fades . Every night I console myself thinking tomorrows gonna be a new day and everyday I wait for another tomorrow ,my hope still intact.

They tell me to move on ,they tell me to be happy .To live or try living happily would only mean to learn to live with a baggage full of pain . To move on would mean me giving my half baked heart to the one who is not even mine. What if I get to live a normal people’s life ,what if I don’t have to white wash my memories every time I find a spot?? The rain has stopped and my cups empty time to go back to pretend and wait for good days to come .what if tommorow s my day ???

Lately I have been surfing a lot in internet , studying about various kind of mental health related issues ,causes and effect and matching each one of them to my condition, if i suffer from any of them .To my surprise every disorder seemed to be having fewer common things with my condition. Does that mean i suffer from  all the problems with uneven compositions or does that mean I caught a new disease which is the amalgamation of all the diseases mentioned above ?

If I studied harder I would have been a professional medical examiner by now or I believe I might have become a psychiatrist or a therapist dealing with my own shits in my own ways. I often envy people who seem happy and content ,I envy their skeptical free approach towards life as if they already knew what their purpose was , unlike me who is aimlessly wandering making every move a wrong one. I also get plagued by the recurring question about what my purpose of living in this world is ? Who am I? What good am gonna do to people ? Is this undetermined aimless life of mine worth living? I search ,contemplate reflect on my past decisions ,how everything I chose was not so made for me ,how things just didn’t fit into the puzzle the way I had planned . I have been catatonic and often found myself lost pondering over deep reflection of my deeds .I think of my life that I have carved for myself and how it’s starting to fray from edges . How it’s affecting me and how well I have struggled to move past my past.

I avoid talking to people these days because talking raises expectation and expectations demand sharing the true self which means laying open in bed showcasing all your vulnerabilities. When someone asks me what do you do ? I find myself mumbling under my own breath “Oh I live”. How do I label myself what do I do. Should I tell them that I am a disabled soul ,I write, paint and think, think about the stars moon distant galaxies faded memories and what not ? None of that truely applies to me for I am not a professional writer ,i write inspired by my own fucked up little life. I paint when I could not convert my thoughts into words. And when my nerve abandons me and I am not able to write or paint ,I think . I haven’t accomplished anything big ,no big fat salaried job ,no Painting assignments , I did think of writing sometimes but realised I am in love with the idea of writing than writing itself. I have been a failure all my life , unproductive in everything I have tried so far atleast this is what my mom thinks of me. Often I struggle to define myself , I search for a tag to give meaning to my existance.

My academic career was not all stellar. I studied in a lesser known tier 3 college so when people ask me whr hv I graduated from ,I intentionally supposedly say it’s a govt college (the only better excuse I could think of at the moment) and no one asks further. Neither I have accomplished anything big , materialistically nor I have been successful in any particular area .Instead of honing my existing skills I aim to try out different things. Who knows I might someday stumble upon something I had been looking all my life .But for the time being my Eureka moment seems difficult to stop by. I have to start from somewhere atleast to give a meaningful defination to my existance or atleast someday I might be able to feel proud of myself and tag myself that is least derogatory or prejorative.

Someday I might be able to define who i am ? Without succumbing to my failures all over again. Someday I might be able to create a name for myself , someday I might have the answer who for I am ….

Today is been a gray day. It’s pouring heavily outside. Standing near the kitchen window ,while slowly slurping my morning fuel, I replied back to my mom who barely could leave me wander in my thoughts for a sec. She snapped me back by asking me to keep a check on my voice amplitude and not to be loud when talking to anyone in public. I said “Sorry” I will keep in mind to act more sober next time.This is something I have been assuring since I was a kid . My relatives named me “radio” and my friends “crow”. It’s not like I don’t control when I speak, it’s just the words control me more, but then why should I be sorry for something I have no control over?We are often expected to accept our faults but seldom we are taught to grow and love our flaws.I remember my school days, when I used to get punished for being too loud and talking all the time be it in class or prayer hall or any where else. Growing up getting complaints from near and dear once, I unapologetically apologised for being wired that way. I apologised for my tomboyish nature which I believe placed me differently. At least I was happy being me.When my mother regrets for me being me ,all I find myself saying is “I am Sorry” sorry ??? What for ?? For being born the way I was borned or for inheriting the mixed characteristic features from my parents that they never acknowledged bad ? After highschool when I asked my father which stream to opt for, for I was wanting to opt commerce. He made me apologize for not knowing my inner potential of becoming a doctor or an engineer thereby making me opt for science. Deep inside I felt sorry ,sorry for not living up to his expectations.
Things does not get any better. After this I felt this “SORRY” bell inside me ringing all the time for everything that might get considered a wrong doing.When my bf hacked my phone and caught me going out to see a friend, a guy friend at 4 am in the morning just because he was in trouble and wanted my help, I was framed otherwise ,if you know what I mean. I apologised for something that seemed wrong to someone else. Every time I am in frame with my friends clicking pictures together, I am being blamed for intensionally standing right next to a boy.I don’t remember the last time I lived my life unapologetically. Since the time I was born I have been apologizing ,to my parents, teachers and everyone out there for I have heard stories of how I was an unwanted child and how my grandmother cursed me every time we met. I believe “Sorry” is the very first word I learnt in kindergarten in place of A for apple and B for ball.
Few days back I corrected a friend’s article for he always posts uncorrected and raw writings of him. And every time I point out his mistakes I feel like poking his ego a bit deeper. So I exited by saying “sorry that I tried to correct you “I guess I shouldn’t have.
For every sorry there exists a lingering duality ,we aren’t even sure if we actually feel sorry or not. I remember an instance from office, when not seeing me at my desk made my manager loose his temper ,I had to calm him down by saying sorry followed by an genuine explanation of how I was stuck in the washroom. I could have waited for another minute but my pee couldn’t have. So yeah I said sorry for the umpteenth time.
In case of arguments and fights, Sorry has a vital role to play. A single word can be your armour anytime any moment. You want to end a relationship ?? Say sorry and add any bullshit reason in the suffix and violllaa your work is done.Apologies are real hoaxes for they can deceive a person to the power infinity making them feel guilty in return. Why do people apologize in the first place ? They did something wrong knowing that they are doing wrong. When they get caught they blame the situation , environment timing everything but never accept it was their mistake. people play it off like they had no idea how it happened.The other facts included here are, they say sorry again and again, spilling watery leftovers from their eye and trying to make you swim in it emotionally. when things don’t get any better, they apologize again this time followed by the suffix “but” again followed by the explanation of how you provoked them or how you egged them on of doing what they did, putting all their baggage of wrongdoings on you just like that.It’s better not to feel half baked sorry followed by “if” and “buts”.So I finally decided to feel sorry for myself for letting all the narcissists and self centered people into my life in different forms Viz, mentors ,well-wishers , friends and so on and torment me to the core and finally leave just like that without apologising? I feel sorry for myself for letting others frame me the sole wrong doer of all times .I feel the real me again…………………………..

Last night I had a dream , dream that I saw while my eyes were wide open for I seldom sleep ,for darkness sooth me more .I don’t remember what time it was exactly for me morning noon and night seems the same .Coming to the dream, I saw us walking hand in hand ,no not exactly hand in hand ,you were holding my finger ,on a long stretch of endless deserted beach. I was holding the lower part of your saree .you were there to guide me back home for I was on a run for some time or did I forget the address to my way home ? Whatever it was ,you found me ,you always did and there I was with you and suddenly you disappeared into the thin air leaving me alone all by myself .I shouted maa but in return I got the echoes of my own voice . you vanished somewhere just like that .I woke up sweaty , my heart pounding and my left hand vibrating like a rattle snakes tail .there I found you sleeping silently next to me. I checked up on you for the 3rd time in a row if you were alive ?yes that is something I do when I am anxious and afraid ,afraid ? To loose you .I noticed something that day ,it’s been quite a while I am noticing you .My mother she has grown Ornery and distant lately but she is still beautiful in her own way .There is something funny about her when she giggles on my “not so laughable joke” she seems less a women and more of a child in kindergarten.sometimes I feel as if my mother is having a monologue relationship with herself for she talks forever in a constant monologue.There is this unique special floral pattern that I draw ,in tables ,books ,floors walls whenever I get anxious or depressed or worried or all three of them at once. It’s a 5 petaled flower similar to that of a Jasmin’s. Its very similar to the one attached to the rubber band that my mom bought me when was 6 or 7. I remember her walking me to school and on our way back home ,she would buy me these ribbons , flower clips,and many more girlish accessories. I certainly remember my childhood memories in binaries .It had a button like feature at the centre .no matter how many times I draw every time I try meticulously to be extra cautious to draw a perfect flower as if my life is concentrated at the centre .All I can see now is the minute details ,equal spacings between each petals , avoiding the overlapping of the petals and the middle button a perfect round .when I draw this I feel something setting in my stomach .a knot ? It’s a very familiar churning .I am used to it , every time I feel it I know where it comes from.Coming to my mother she has always been an over giver all her life never said no to anyone and how I have inherited the characteristics that I wish I didn’t have. secretly down inside I wished I had not inherited certain dysfunctional features that she has or atleast I wished I had gotten the power to alter the genetic strands. For a greater part of my life my mother and me never got along quite well .our thoughts clashed and we have never ever reached a common conclusion. I remember planning several times to run from home right after completing my highschool only to escape the torture of my own mind fueled by my mother’s paranoia. I remember of all the times we fought like crazy and how I snapped her back something very painful. I think of all the times I have been ungrateful toward her and everyone else in my family. The only thing i can flawlessly do is ,waking up to people and damping all my baggage on them which included blames and much more.The other day when maa and I was wandering in our own world while sleeping together and me resting half of my body fats on her ,she asked me why I don’t sleep and what is it that is bothering me .For all the times we have slept together I thought she never realized me not sleeping but pretending. I would feel my mother’s hand on me caressing my hair strands ,kissing my forehead checking up on me in the midnight when I pretend to just sleep like an inanimate log, not letting her know that I feel what she feels. I wanted to shout aloud and tell her how I feel every night when trying to sleep with my spirit crushed under my own weight and with all the burdens I carry on my back .I wanted to shout aloud to tell her that how one more day will pass if I sleep and I will have nothing new to do. How I will wake up and see her growing old. So I have decided to skip sleep plug in the earcods listening to the same music that I was listening yesterday and the day before that. I wanted to tell her how I have started learning the art of” kintsugi ” for it teaches to mend broken things .it makes broken things look more beautiful. Will you understand ? If I tell you I am learning hard to bridge the gap we once had .will you understand if I succeed in making up for all the time I left you alone. Will you understand if I tell you that I will not go green in keeping relationships intact .I will be more than what I look like maa ,I will be a good daughter atleast I believe I can be the one . I wish I could just go vocal about all the tornados going on inside my brain .I wish you will understand me someday maa I wish you do ………

How do you define comfort ?? How do we all define comfort ?? The idea of comfort varies from person to person. For some it is going outdoors ,shaking hands meeting people over food and drink being an social animal .There is comfort for some in following the schedules even if it is mundane and boring. The idea of letting go of the old and accepting anything new that comes our way seems difficult these days .While there are massive changes going on right now like plans getting cancelled , exams being postponed , routines being abruptly disturbed . Things are getting better to worst as people are being forced to stay indoors .For me things have been same for quite a while now. For I have remained indoors for a very long long time.I dnt wake up early for the sake of attending a video conference call for I hv no work .not working or at least the idea of not working for the very first time is making sense to me .I see my father getting dressed in his best formal attires everyday only to realize he doesn’t have a job either ,neither he has anything else to do .He complains of the shops going out of stock and how the shopkeeper next door was beaten to blue for not following the orders . Every day is same for us .we discuss the same rotten news published weeks back thrice a day only to realize how vulnerable we have become .The day starts with listening to the podcasts and scrolling down the recently added news , another piece of bad news.??? Where people are debating over the recent ongoing news ,trying to poke holes into each others logic ,I somewhere wonder if the world is going to end or we all are going to die altogether.When at one point the depression of going through the crises is not getting any better ,at some other point I feel relieved by deriving pleasure from the fact that atleast I am not alone in this. We all feel this way isn’t it ? Human tendency though ,bearing the pain together together lessens it I feel positive about the whole concept of staying isolated .I consider this ,a kind of urban solitude .we pass others on the street seeming uninterested in exchanging Hi’s and heelo’s and stealing gazes and avoiding to hv seen any living creature walk past us.The other day I was standing in my balcony in dark trying to remember the small small things happening around me and trying to pen down all the great stories likely to evolve from these little things .Having got nothing to do , I was lost to wander in my own thoughts .I thought of me and my father being on the same page .I thought of ways to work on my nerves and different ways of forging existing relationships and being kind to those who have always been by my side, for relationships are conscious effort.

I WOKE up early that morning, 3 am to be precise .It had been a ritual since the last couple of months to wake up in the midnight .It seemed as if it had been hammered into my

head to control my reflexes that way or was it my subconscious playing hide and seek with my CNS I dont know . After dragging myself out of the bed and sleepwalking for another 5 mins I found myself in front of the mirror.It was the same mirror I discussed before if you remember ,the same 30 by 40 cm mirror in front of which I share all my apprehensions. That day standing there all alone by myself I keenly noticed the minuscule facial deformations of mine and all the fruitless efforts of trying to hide them was visible .The dark circles under my eyes seemed to have grown a little darker ,the pale thin undernourished hair asking loudly for some oil ,I wish I wudnt have hated them that much and my bronze coloured skin as if I had spent hours standing under the sun. I noticed something on my face , a pimple I never had pimples before may be because I was a water guzzler.I hvnt been drinking recently ,it doesn’t bother me anymore.I don’t follow routines anymore I chuckled.

Coming to my pimple , it had reached the final stage ,where it begs to be picked .it was yearning for a release .To free itself from its white dome like house ,pressing untill the blood oozed out. Even though I made no effort to calm it, a sense of accomplishment ran through my nerve .I did all I could have done for this pimple.Rest in peace I murmured.

I checked my phone for the third time in a row for a while, just to reassure myself that there were no new messages. The instant gratification monkey inside me was not letting me be at peace so I decided to log on to my social networking profiles (all I had )in a row and check them all .I stalked random profiles ,checking every photos and captions ,reading ,rereading the coments people had made trying not to miss out on a single eye catchy post and occasionally envying the merry go happy posts and also ignoring the one that seemed to held my gaze more than a minute .I loathed the one who had kept their profile private thinking about the possible secrets that they could be hiding as if their secrets were like a Medusa to the public gaze. I sighed ,I secretly had an urge to have had a conversation with someone ,someone close a friend may be .It was the momentary need I must say . All I needed was to say something and ,I needed to have a deep meaning full conversation about random stuffs .you see I have a lot to talk about. I have always been an incurable gossip. You name a topic and I will keep going on and on untill you switch off the button .There are things to talk and discuss about stars ,moons ,galaxies,climate change,winter ,anxiety ,insanity,catatonia ,about the day to day business of being nuts ,because doctors don’t tell you much .I needed to discuss all of these ,the next day might not be there for me ?

I wish I could tell about things that I never went vocal about or I wish I could show the parts of me that I wasnot that proud of .I was tired ,tired of thinking of the world about people , existence ,sufferings midlife crises ,midlife career crisis and the never ending list of grief and sorrow .I felt as if I was burnt out on being troubled? Why does it matter why I feel this thusly ? Why I feel what I feel ? Is that the depression or insanity I had succumbed to ?seemed as if it had resulted under the maniac search for the meaning in life ? If yes then what kind of insanity it is ? The slow one or the fast one ???The amalgamation of questions were still running at the back of my head as if was a researcher trying to unveil a secret.

I looked at the wall clock ,the one I used to keep looking for hours when I had nothing else to do. 1 hour to go before the sun rises.I felt a tangible change in my mood. I felt thirsty all of a sudden.I made a hot steaming cup of coffee ,I sipped it slowly while still tangled up in the thought process. The feeling of what next seemed to juice down my throat as if the hot coffee had been conspiring against me all this while.what next ? Should I be consistent with my inconsistency ??? Should I run away like the way I did before ? I leaned against the wall, letting out the breath I had been holding for long .I sighed heavily.

6 am it was .The sun was still low in the sky. The sky loookked purple instead of blue , I have always believed in good omens and purple indicated hope. The air seemed fresh ,the kind that would make anyone jump out of the bed .I popped my head out of the window just to realize it was going to be a bright sunny april morning.