Month: November 2015

You Decided It Was Over.

I will never stop feeling guilty for not loving you enough. I can never let go of the memories of you and me. All this reminds me of how unconditionally you managed to love me while I took each day spent with you for granted.

I deserved you.

You had to give up on me someday and you did, and as I’m growing older all of it makes so much more sense. While you gave all of you to me, my attention remained divided.

I needed you.

I never knew I needed you this bad until that night you decided to leave, but the most surprising part is you left all of your favourite stuff behind for me to cherish. Stuff that you never bought so you could fulfill my demands.

I was the most important.

Every minute of every day you worried about me while I danced to the rythms of life unaware of your struggle. You were fighting a silent fight and I let you fight it, until one day you decided it was over.

I was no longer the most significant.

For now you left for a journey to a land from where no traveller has ever returned and mom, I still need your unconditional love and worry and also your kisses, but you’ve left me, you’ve given up on me, and there’s no way I can ask for forgiveness any more.

My eyes burn

My throat is dry

My heart pains.

And as the sound of crackers fills your ears, a blood curling scream escapes my mouth.

As the world rejoices this Diwali, I sit alone, waiting, crying, dying.

The Rangolis welcome Goddess Lakshmi, as I embrace the end.

The Diyas light up the country, and I close my eyes for one last time.

The world is lit, and all I see now, is darkness.

My Best Happy.

There are a million worlds in this one world we call our own, and each unvisited world tugs on my mind. The sense of freedom that travelling provides me with is and will remain unmatched. The joy of leaving behind all the petty worries of teenage life and exploring sites that I was unaware of, walking on roads that don’t belong to me but for the moment seem to, I feel my best happy.

To travel is equivalent to reading minds. Minds of those who lived long ago and those who live today, of Picasso when he drew a painting, of Angelo when he designed a building, of Shahrukh when he shot a film, and when I’m interpreting what runs in their mind, I feel my best happy.

To sit down for hours near the shore far from home, and silently admire the aggressive beauty the Ocean has to offer, as the setting sun calms it down, soothes my mind. The Nature that He himself seems to have put together piece by piece like a jigsaw never ceases to mesmerise me, and it’s when I’m marvelling at the beauty of a flower unknown at my homeland, that I feel my best happy.

To listen to someone try to tell you about their day in a language you don’t understand, and trying to respond back in words incomprehensible to them, and yet curating a connection you know won’t die for years to come is a treat in itself, and it is when I’m ordering unknown food in an unknown dialect is when I feel my best happy.

To travel is to forget that you’re a part of the World, while you explore the world. And its when when I’m admist this unexplored beauty, that I feel my best happy.