A love story

This is a cruel and unforgiving world that reeks of humanity. Behold, it's certainly not for the faint-hearted lest for the dreamers, vagabonds, or free men. Humanity my love, I am a rotten art piece in your play. You joke, you laugh, you weep beside me. You beguile me with your charming voice. I believe you like I always do. You break my heart, it splits into a thousand stone shards. They lie on the floor, still, sharp and sparkling with hope as I helplessly watch myself transform into something grotesque. You turn away like it always has been my fault, written in my fate to embrace disgrace. It's an abominable scene.

                                       credits:https://unsplash.com/photos/y-RjWd6Ol7A

On Artistic Injustice -An open plea for an egalitarian future

Disclaimer: I adore poetic objectification, metaphors, similes and all that is romantic about this world. But this is a deliberate effort to burst my own dream bubble . Also, I love contradicting myself once in a while. It is an attempt to question one's own beliefs and perceptions. 

                                                                                                                                                                     Eyes begin to droop slowly, heaved down by the mountain of hopes. Each breath passes in and out of  breathing bags-the magic containers of soul and life-all its efforts to keep up with its companion body parts a journey futile in itself. Its strong will to stay afloat amidst the lunacy of life crushed, chopped, grated and mashed into an undesirable and uneven lump.This is something I wrote a while ago. I must admit this unnecessary attention and magnified romantic notions about certain body parts is a bit unnerving for me now. The heart -labelled as the king of all organs, the origin of all emotions -depriving the brain of its due credit. For me, there is no graver injustice than this. Then there is the skin, eyes, nose, lips, neck, breasts, hips, back, feet and butts which are supposed to be the elegant body parts. They possess the power to create enticing, aphroditic creatures out of an otherwise blatantly boring and ordinary human anatomy as if it's our prowess and free will that gave birth to such magnificent poetic beauty. The other organs and organ systems- the nervous system, the integumentary system, the mesentery, spleen and liver- to name a few weeps away silently in a corner while still working their asses off for ungrateful wretched beings who do not even care to remember about these organs unless a brave candidate shows up with a red flag refusing to be the slave that it was and puts you- the master, in an existential crisis. Even then they do not have the slightest of the idea that they have been ripped of their privilege, their rightful centre stage by us-the moronic, cluttered and clueless humans. Had it not been for the tilted human imagination and a couple of ironic confirmation biases these so-called popular organs might have been as good as different parts of a machine all equally significant for the final assemblage.

I like green a bit more now

With a gazillion opinions trying to rip me apart, deep melancholy, and a heavy heart, I lie on my bed hiding my face in a pillow. I absentmindedly stroke my hair as if to pull me out of despair. I smell of stagnation, remorse, shame, and much more but tears won't grace my kohl-rimmed eyes anymore. I preach of self-love to all but my mind hasn't been in good shape since when I can't recall. Its been raining outside for a while now. From my window, everything looks so green. Clean and pure. I've been googling different shades of green; light sea green is now my favorite. It blows my mind how these green leaves so elegantly mask the brown that holds them together. If I keep watching them for a very long time, maybe I'd get the hang of it. Then it won't be so hard to put on a fake smile, keep a straight head, and walk like I own the place.

Another tirade

(Read in a milder tone. I'm not arrogant. I'm just angry and devastated)To willfully err is an art. The fear that engulfs the whole of me, my stutter, and my silence does not let me do that. Sometimes I want to be a demon spitting greenish flames the heat of which will blur your vision for a bit. You don't think I can do that? Listen, if I put my mind to it I can be the epitome of wickedness, a perfect nightmare, an evil witch, or a daring bitch. I can pull it off so effortlessly that you will be completely taken aback. You'll know it in your heart when you lose it to me. I could destroy your world with the snap of my fingers; your terrified screams will echo throughout the realm, slowly drowning in between my cold and cruel laughter. So don't challenge me with your nasty comments, shitty opinions, and archaic thoughts because I am an artist and when I err with all my will, you, my dear, will go extinct.

                                  credits:https://unsplash.com/photos/yHG6llFLjS0

On Socrates and Aporia

I recently discovered that Socrates was this guy who went around the town irritating people by asking questions. He called himself -'the gadfly of Athens' and took it upon himself to enlighten fellow Athenians by questioning them and creating a state of aporia. Socratic dialogues often ended in aporia. Aporia is a Greek word meaning being at loss or unable to answer. First, let me tell you why he did what he did. He basically wanted to prove The Oracle of Delphi wrong. The prophecy was that Socrates was the wisest of all men. So, he would go to politicians, poets, and craftsmen who claimed to have knowledge. First, he would say that he is ignorant and would love to hear what they have to say on the matter. He'll allow the person to open up and then slowly he'll start questioning the person's opinions until the person is made to realize he knows nothing. Can you imagine the horror! Well, this is known as Socratic irony where he claims of being ignorant but turns out to be the wiser one. He said -"The only true wisdom, is in knowing you know nothing".

                                 Oracle of Delphi

                              Credits:https://unsplash.com/photos/8OjTCSjlQic

    He was a revolutionary in the sense he questioned the traditions and customs at the time, and even the state itself. He believed in the universal subjective truth and that we should all think for ourselves, look inwards, to find it. But isn't the word subjective in itself biased? ( I think that is impossible-the universal truth part). He did not impart any knowledge, instead, he made others realize they didn't know(intellectual midwifery or maieutics as he would call it). Anyway, all this information, all we know about Socrates is from texts written by Plato, Xenophon (his students)and Aristophanes(a playwright ). Yeah, you read that right. The man didn't keep a journal. Could he be any more stupid? (In Chandler's voice).I would have liked to know him, you know, although he seems plain arrogant, lacking empathy and much more. Don't judge him so harshly you moron. For all we know, he could have been a goofball and his interlocutors must have had a bad sense of humor. Anyway, he didn't have a happy ending obviously. He was accused of corrupting the youth and defying the Gods and was sentenced to death by hemlock poison. He could have saved his life if he apologized but he didn't. He believed in an inner force that would make him do stuff and called it daimon. He believed it was his duty to follow what the guiding force said him to do which was negation most of the time (PS: he was not possessed  ). You could have called it your inner voice Socrates, inner voice. Why?why?why did you do that?

     It was not his duty but he did show the mirror to the society and that takes guts guys(Taaliyan👏). Also, aporia is incredible. Seldom, do people try to negate themselves? Once we reach a conclusion, we sort of cling on to it, till our last breath. Contrary to this, aporia provides for intellectual humility and that we may not need an ultimate answer, instead we can always strive for a better answer each time.' Keep questioning to learn' and 'know thyself' is what I take from him.

  

Free Fall

I am tired.No, exhausted is the right word.These iron bars I've built for myself is crunching me in.That would be slightly inaccurate considering the fact that the cages have been there forever.I never built one but I chose mine. They've turned rusty recently. I can feel the roughness whenever my shoulder brush past it.On some days there is an urge to tap my head lightly on it.Thud.Thud.Thud.I hope it would calm me down.It doesn't. I know from the past that it never works but its a habit now.There is a slight comfort in repetition,monotony,and sheer familiarity. Its been ages since I last saw those magnificent keys.Crafted with utmost precision,made of gold the keys always reminded me of pride,arrogance and royalty.Even in the dark,my eyes closed,I can still imagine its elegant curves and dents when I held them close for one last time.Its strange what your brain can make you do.Vision blurry, clouded ,a quiet rage mounting inside ,time never stopped to see what I did.And I did what I did. I threw out into the abyss my freedom,locked myself inside.Regret hit even before the keys did.I was too ignorant to detect the flaw in the plan.Now I see it.All of it.

                                

                It amuses me that rational beings often succumb before the thunder of emotions .Anyway its been a very long day. I try to lie down for a bit, maybe get some sleep. It's been a while since I've got some alone time. A mirror opposite tells me I look like a zombie. Insomniac and a zombie, I thought. Who the fuck keeps a dozen mirrors in a cage. So dumb. Ouch! It hurts to even relax oneself around here. The floor is hostile. My ankle is hurt, a drop of orange fluid oozes out from my flawless skin, escape into the nothingness below through space between the bars. That's a miracle! A tiny bit of me is now under free fall. A tiny bit of me is free. I should celebrate, but for now, I should sleep. I close my eyes, to embrace the darkness, but instead light greets me with a radiant smile. It's beautiful and blinding.

Tell me your lies

I have a really bad memory. To gauge the intensity of that statement you have to be in my headspace. Like always, I don't want it to be misunderstood. So, let me explain. You know those people who remember the faces and names of everyone they encounter including the dukandaar? People who can recall dates and years of important historical events( as if it's that simple).People who will notice all the tiny little details of stories they read or movies they watch. Well, I am not one of them. If I have to rate myself on a scale of 1 to 10, I will probably give myself a three for my memory. Believe me, I am that bad.

                  This one fact explains a hell lot about the person I am today. Its as if you have no memories at all. Okay, okay-"no real memories".I am stuck with memories of memories, some infiltrated by a nameless monster, some seems to me like splattered muddy droplets on a clean floor. If you look carefully, you can even make figures and shapes out of the splatter.

           

                                             Credits:https://unsplash.com/@guilhermestecanella

                 My friend starts a conversation -"This is the person whom I told you about the other day.." I smile (of course without the display of my teeth, which would be shocking for various reasons), I even say -"Oh Yeah, I remember " to make my lie look convincing. My friend goes on with the conversation anyway, yet I feel caught. Even if the person opposite is quite enthusiastic, it won't take me a minute or two to turn it into an awkward one. That's exactly why  I don't meet eyes with people. Yeah I know, I know, you are not supposed to do that because it's extremely rude. But I am constantly scared. I am terrified that my lie will be exposed.                                                                  It's brought to my notice that I am 'unapproachable'.Yeah, sometimes truth hits so hard. So, let me clear things up. It's okay, you can speak to me. I won't interrupt and  I am not much of an orator, so I won't judge your communication skills. Also, I like to listen so the mirror of your soul doesn't matter to me. Look me in the eye and tell me your lies, your stories, with those intricate details, slipped in between to make it sound real. Be a pro, craft it like no one has done before, so you don't bore me to death. Give me those nice compliments that you don't really mean(that'll keep the conversation engaging). Share with me your heartbreak sagas but only from your perspective. Complain about how the whole world is against you and how unfairly your boss treats you. Tell me how that attractive new pair of shoes you bought online won't fit you how hard you try and it makes you wanna cry. Don't feel guilty that world peace isn't your priority right now. Feel free to feel anger, hatred, jealousy, and grief. They are human emotions, they do not define you. I will listen. I will listen hard and I promise, I'll never let anyone know. This will be our little secret. You'll keep mine and I'll keep yours. You don't need to worry, because I will probably forget it anyway.

Out of tune

Have you ever felt a lack of control over your own life? I've never felt that way until recently. Probably because I didn't have a sense of self for the most part of my life. This sudden revelation is not because a pandemic has swallowed the whole world and forced us into our own homes. When the idea of marriage as the next step in life, is put forth so innocently in an otherwise harmless conversation, it strikes you. You start seeing yourself as an individual, apart from the group. You see how effortlessly you managed to pull off the obedient kid drama."No.. no.. who told you are obedient? When were you obedient? You are not the good kid we assumed to be. Instead, you turn out to be a girl who talks back to her elders. You better mind that tone of yours. Always speaking unnecessarily. Good girls speak only when spoken to."Oh, I'm sorry, I won't do that again, I promise. But you know you would break that one.

       

                                 credits:https://unsplash.com/@kowalikus

              Never have I felt like a person capable enough to take a decision on my own. There are always people around you, who know what's good for you. People with vast experience and knowledge, who have seen life and embraced it with such grace. Oh, wait. I can't see them anymore. I see dark circles, leathery skin, tired soul, oh there it is! right behind their eyes, I can see ghosts that feed on souls; lurking around to feed on the leftovers, remnants of who they used to be once. I see regrets, penitence, and obedience. My lips swallow the words, I smile at them, then slowly turn around. I hear a sigh. I resist the urge to turn back and walk slowly. A tangerine light draws me to it from somewhere around the corner, so I keep walking.

Begin Again

My laptop screen makes me feel nauseated. It gives me a headache. Not the unbearable horrible type but the subtle discomforting one. My hand involuntarily lifts and find it's way to my forehead. Then slowly, I rub along my eyebrows in an outward motion as if it would somehow make it go away.

         I started this blog in 2016 when I joined college. In the last 4years, I had posted like what 4 times and updated it umpteen times. I hate what I write after a point of time, so there is only one post right now on this blog. COVID has forced me out of my shell and I've promised myself to write regularly(well, almost) on this blog. I thought I should clear that out of the way, before proceeding further. 

            So, as I was saying, I hate laptops man! Thirty minutes into typing and my head is swirling. Mobiles are way cooler. The only problem is my joints are aching like hell, coz I am a sloth in the body of an evolved ape and I spend 90 percent of my time glued to my phone. Therefore, I have decided to spend that time more productively from now on.

      I don't care no one will ever read what I write. I think writing is gonna save me in some way(not that I'm good with words and all). It will keep me sane. So, ladies and gentlemen, here I begin.