Love on hold

This post is one of the most spontaneous ones I've ever written and it's inspired by death even though I would rather it was inspired by life. But that's the truth, death is the only thing that fashions life, that gives life its glamour or its relevance at all.

Most of us are living every day to the best we can because, who knows, tomorrow you may not even be around to do the things you always wanted to do. Or wait, are we really living all we can?

I recently gave it a lot of thought, every time someone in my life has passed away I realize that I did not tell them how much I loved them or even how much I appreciated them being in my life. It's a very general regret that most of us have when we lose people we love. And the best condolence you can receive is "She knew you loved her". But no, maybe she didn't because we didn't speak for the longest time.

When I was 15, I lost my grandfather and my dad to health. A very close school friend took her own life when I was 17, I lost my child hood best friend to a bike accident when I was 19 and I lost a very close college mate to health at the age of 21.

And while I should have learnt my lesson after losing people the first two times, I didn't and every single time after that there have been regrets. I regret that I did not tell them that they were loved and that they meant so much to me. I regret that some misunderstandings were never sorted and that they left this world with a grudge in their hearts towards me, if at all.

I regret that I waited to forgive and to be forgiven and didn't reach out to fix things in time. But that's the whole point of this blog post. Why do we wait or put these little things off for tomorrow?

What might sound to you as a very common topic to be found on a blog after someone loses someone they loved to death, is actually a very grave topic to me today because I am surrounded by people who still don't understand the fragility of life.

You may have heard this very exact lesson from so many people "Love today" "Tell people what they mean to you" "don't sleep over an argument" , but we hear these things, say our "I Love Yous" and then get on with our lives.

But I strongly felt the need to emphasize in this post how very important it is to make up, to stay in touch, to reach out, to sleep in peace, to be happy.

Our days here are numbered. We're all somewhere on the waiting list to go back home. And you can never say if the person on your mind right now will wake up tomorrow and say good morning to you like he does everyday. You can never be sure if today will be the last time you hug your best friend. You will never know if your mom knew you loved her when she passed away just because you argued with her every single day before it.

You will never know how much you could have accomplished on any particular day if you die before it. And you don't know when you're going to die so start prioritizing people and things that really matter. Stop planning and start doing, don't leave misunderstandings unattended, talk it out. Don't be okay with holding grudges especially when you know it has the potential to be fixed.

Don't keep love on hold.

Truth be told

I begin at your end.
My heart twisted and turned at every bend
For you and all that was yours
For us and for a greater cause.
My needs failed to matter,
Yours, however, came to the front.
You're not to blame, this is all me,
Why then am I longing to be set free?
Wasn't it all in my hands from the start?
Or was it all just a trick of the heart?
To make me feel so much through and through,
For someone as devious and unmindful as you
Or should I say unheartful, ungrateful, unthoughtful maybe
Or maybe forgive you and make it look that easy.
To move, move on, move out from it all
Pack my bags, get up or take another fall?
Why does it feel like all is doomed
For happiness, my heart finds no room
Destined to give, and receive but none
Love, shouldn't feel like a war to be won.
But that's what it's become , that's how I feel
The war rages in my soul, a blood stained battlefield.
But no matter who wins, the damage is done
One side will have lost and the other will have won.
The debris, the corpses, the dream's all lost
Now they lay lifeless, but at what cost?
The cost of never being fully content,
The fact that my voice never found a vent.
The fight and the pain has come to an end.
Though, I shall never love the same again.

Reservation for one

It's not a rarity to find more people choosing to go to the movies alone, with no company at all. It's not rare anymore to find people visiting cafes just by themselves. While some choose to call these people introverts, I highly disagree. Not everyone who chooses to be alone is an introvert.

Recently, I've found myself more comfortable being with myself than in the company of others. Whilst I do not mind company, I'm fairly okay with not having any either. And yet I have friends who would ask me, how can you go to a restaurant and eat alone, what do you do at the movies alone, don't you get lonely?

I guess most of us do not know how to be alone. We're always in touch, always communicating, always talking, always reaching out. When was the last time you reached in, got in touch with yourself?

Lost somewhere between #SquadGoals #Groupfie #WeekendGetaway I found myself longing for #Solitude #PersonalSpace #MeTime and I decided it's about time i gave these hashtags a little more attention.

I'd like you to take a moment to analyse when was the last time you went to the restaurant you wanted and not the one the rest of the group wanted to go to. When was the last time you ate your own plate of fries without having to split it. When was the last time you saw a movie and formed your own opinion about it instead of having everyone else influence yours.

Have you ever once been silenced by a good book or a good movie but your social life just wouldn't let you feel the things you wanted to feel after it because you're already making a #WhatNext plan. We're constantly on the move, in the flow, moving with the tide.

Don't get me wrong, friends are cool, having friends who understand you is cooler. But of what use are friends if you've lost yourself somewhere between them all. If you're suddenly finding yourself swept in with the tide, doing things you would otherwise not choose to do if it were your sole decision, it's time to stop and make sense out of it all.

I still hang out with my friends, go for lunches and dinners and parties, we go dancing and we sometimes just chill in someones compound. But now I make time for the things I want to do over everything that the rest of my group wants to do, even if it means doing it alone.

Don't feel guilty to do it too. It's one of the most uplifting things you could do for yourself.

Lastly, I'd like to address a very common comment I get when I tell people I eat alone at restaurants. "How can you be comfortable sitting alone with no one to talk to?"

It's simple, if you can't bear to be with yourself or you can't deal with your own idle mind, how can you expect someone else to want to share a meal with you?

Go ahead, reserve a table for one.

The heart of it all

The heart of it all had everything I never thought it could hold.
It held grudges, it held promises, it held memories
At the heart of it all, I found words, said and unsaid.
I found messages never forgotten,
I saw scratches on the walls, bruises.
I saw stories, some brought me to tears
I found fears, some that were in corners,
Some that came from the dark.
In the dark, I found another heart.

The heart of it all had a cage of anger
But it did not own the keys to let it out.
It had a lot of empty spaces...
Maybe no one cared to fill it,
It held onto lies told,
It had boxes of truths that went untold.
But the most daunting find
Were the restrictions of the mind,
All stacked up and labelled too.
"He's not for you"
"You can't do this"
"RIP Logic?"
It made me sick
At the heart of it all,
I didn't think I'd see
Everything that came between you and me.

Image courtesy: Vanora Vaz

Aster

"I knew you'd come" she said, with a smirk. Her body eased at the feel of warmth beside her.
The skin on their hands barely brushed against each other. They kept their space.
He smiled too.

She thought about the excuses he might have had to make up at home to leave at this hour just to be with her.

The summer breeze gently blew sending dust around the place leaves and piece of them too.

This was where they met most nights. Sometimes she sat there alone, sometimes he did. 

It didn't matter, they weren't there for each other.
"Do you think that that star there has been up there very long?" She asked, pointing towards the sky.
He gazed, he didn't speak when he had no answer.
"I think she's been up there very long. Like she died when she was a child and her parents mourn her death everyday."
"Why do you think so, Aster?"
"It looks like it has a sad story"
He chose not to reply.

Again silence over took them. They lose themselves while gazing beyond the city lights, into the night. Sometimes, if the moon was too bright, it would be the topic of their conversation. But most nights they spoke of lives that have passed on to become stars. 

Her eyes sparkled with the reflection of the daintly lit up sky. He sometimes preferred to look at them instead of the stars.
Her lips were pale. Her face, tired
But her eyes shone, like she longed to take off. There was a fire in them, one that was slowly dimming day by day. And that, he had noticed.

Somewhere, mid thought, she turned to him and asked him "Why did you come? To look at me all the while?"

"You asked me to"

"Say you wanted me to"

"Ha! You're a sly one"

"Okay fine"

"Don't come here alone so often, it's not safe" he said, holding her hand.

She didn't like that he chose such a beautiful night to bring this up again.
She answered by squeezing his hand a little.

"How am I alone?"

He smiled, not knowing how to answer. But it had been two years now. They'd meet on the town's abandoned  water tank. Lay there, quietly, comfortable in each others presence, talking only if and when required, every time she wished for him.

And on days she didn't wish for him, she looked out for him in the sky.

Today, he was with her. Until the sun rose of course.

And when the first beams of light began to show, she drew out of a seamless slumber, only to find her hand empty.

She made her way back home, sure to reach before they all woke up, sure that he was looking down upon her, showering kisses every time she longed for him, wishing stars came out in daylight too.

The Story Keeper

She was made of them; stories.
She picked them up, one by one
Gathered them along the way she had travelled.
She collected them and held them in her heart
And they made her whole.
She kept them close and they kept her together.
She could lose herself in their midst and yet find herself within the chaos.
She had learned to make them her own.

Stories;
She could tell them the way they were or change them to suit you,
She could twist and turn them the way her heart pleased,
Or in ways to bring you to your knees.

Stories;
She heard them, she told them, she learned them.
She was building her own day by day, 

with bits and pieces picked up along the way.
But by now she was made up of so many others
What was one story's truth against another?

A look into her eyes would take you afar
To places unheard of and a life of scars,
To tears not shed and dreams in bed,
To words unspoken and hearts that were broken.
But where would her own story fit? she was out of space.
Her story was leaving her, slowly going, leaving no trace.

Now she's made up of everything and everyone
With so much to offer and yet, of her own, she had none.
She's holding on to her story by it's tail, waiting for a taker,

Someone to hold it dear, someone who will not fear,
Someone to make it their own. 

Someone, alas, to give it a home.