In dodo's head

The addictive intoxication of nostalgia, Leads many to the path of doom. Time and time again, they succumb, Flying into the Flame. Like moths, their insides burn, And their wings sing. They fall befuddled, Wondering where they went wrong.

Started with a Hi, Ended with a Goodbye. A story as old as Time. Ah Time, ruthless Time. It wears thin, the bonds that hold us together. We spill out the words "Forever', At any chance that we get. Time stands at a distance, And mockingly laughs at our naive selves. We brush it off as the folly of time, Not comprehending the omnipresence of its Tick tock. Time has many friends, you see, Trust and Faithfulness are not one of them. They stand warily, looking at Time, Their faces betraying the animosity they feel. We try to slip away from Time's watchful glare, But no matter where we go. All we hear are the echoes of Tick and Tock.  P.S I have been meaning to write something for a while, but was running out of ideas. Good Old Pinterest provided me with some Writing prompts. For today, I have chosen-Started with a Hi, Ended with a Goodbye.

A hoarder of notebooks, I buy any that catches my fancy. I take them home, and like Christmas ornaments, adorn my table with them. And that's where it ends, my fixation with them. Once a while I stare longingly at the blank pages, wishing I had the garnishing they need to make it my own. But fear sets in, that I will somehow let this notebook down by writing things not worthy of it, and so back it goes, to a soon to be forgotten nook of the house. Sometimes, like a pseudo-intellectual, I doodle quotes on to the pages, all the while feeling like a fraud. Surely I can conjure up a readable piece instead of copying someone else's lines- I think, with disgust and shame and wistfulness. And yet, the moment I see a notebook that catches my fancy, I take it home.

And those who barely know me mistake my indifference for calmness, They marvel at the stillness of the waters, Not knowing the waves that lurk beneath the surface, The whirlpool that swallows you whole when the balance is upset. Like rain, I will pelt you with my wrath, Wipe away your clumsy scribblings on the sand. No half hearted sand castles will do, If you must, I will only settle for concrete structures of affection, That can withstand the storms of mine. P.S Not angry at anything at the moment, but with the rains and all, decided to write a water-themed piece. 

Forgive me for being sceptical, About the mush that floods social media every single day, The #Foreverandalways posts. Where I come from, Happily ever afters are rarer, Than glass slippers, and pumpkin carriages, And Wishing wells, and Talking cutlery.

Vulnerability scares me, the feeling of being exposed to the elements, the thought of my wounds being infected by the poison of harshness and judgement. Even so, like a sunflower to the sun, I get sucked into it. Although aware of the crashing pain and numbness that ensues from the infection, I am foolish enough to let people in. It is this insanity on the part of us mortal beings that leads to our doom I guess. We could all revel in our isolation, where each day is not a roller coaster of emotions threatening to crash and bring us doom. But nope, we say, "bring it on', raise our arms and scream in exaltation and flourish in the thrill of it all, till it's time for the next victims to hop on this Roller-coaster of doom.

People tire me with their imperfections, I can never love people in their entirety, That is my biggest flaw, Something which has only worsened with time. It is not their flaws that tire me, It is their attempt to hide them. The way they stand, with their tails between their legs, Their sheepish smiles as they distract me, or atleast try to. 'Don't!', I want to yell at them, Screw the world and its addiction to happiness and rainbows, Show me your cracks, your darkness, And I will show you mine, And together we will revel in the intimacy that comes, From knowing the human side of each other.  But I keep quiet,  I am getting good at that, the silence, I am starting to find it the right response to most questions these days. I bury the frustration, the yearning, I accept whatever little they have to give, And return with even lesser of me. They don't seem to notice though, Fools, satisfied with so little.

Mortal beings that we are, Soon we will turn into ash and dust, And all that will remain of us will be memories. We featured in so many of people's lives. Some in a good way, and in some, bad. Sometimes unintentionally, and sometimes a misunderstanding. We nimbly scoot past souls, Hoping to not topple over the fragile, And yet some rush past, Leaving our hearts in debris. Ah human existence, The epitome of irony.

tran·scend tran(t)ˈsend/ verb past tense:  transcended ; past participle:  transcended be or go beyond the range or limits of (something abstract, typically a conceptual field or division). As time tick tocks, and the dusk of my time to pick and choose a career slowly appears on the horizon, 'well wishers (who knows if they are really well wishers..) come, ringing bells of alarm; 'make her give the UPSC, make her give the MPSC' they say, in concerned voices.. And then my mother, BemWeary, replies with a sigh, and then attaches a verb to me, that seems to explain it all- Oh I don't know, she is really transcended.. After having heard it for half a decade or so, it is one of those verbs I would use to describe myself if anybody asked me to do so..  It's hard to really understand how I got to this state of transcendence.. Was it after years and years of living in denial; does it stem from my immune system trying to quell the simmering pan...

The pitter patter of raindrops falling onto the ground, A lullaby for the sleepy. Outside, paddy fields have transformed, Into endless lakes of blue. Storms rage on every night, Flashes of light and thunder, Sending my heart into a flutter. April April, won't you end fast, And put an end to my misery.

The Start of Something new, Always an endless trail of new discoveries, A 'Really!' and a 'You too?'. Years on, the novelty fades. And what binds us will be familiarity, A comradeship born out of our shared experiences. And even that will tire us, And we will long to be back to the Start. Back to the Start of Something new.  

COMBINATIONS THAT DON'T WORK 101 You can't nit pick faults in people everyday and also expect them to be super confident individuals ready to take on the world. You can't keep directing someone on what to do, and then suddenly release the leash and expect said someone to automatically know what's up. Ambition doesn't awaken in a person overnight. It comes from birth. You can't bury off a person's passions and then expect them to still have a zeal in them to go get the world. Life doesn't work that way. As the saying goes, as you sow, so shall you reap. #Thingsadisappointingdaughterrealises

And when the rain has washed away the debris, When it has extinguished the lingering sparks, And all that is left is the carcass of our old selves, Our shocked souls will examine it all, With our hands blackened by the soot, Desperately we will look through it all, Hoping to find the black box. 

Tethered to this land I call home. People wonder why I am unable to move, Why I have not aspired to fly higher. What could possibly be so sacred, That you refuse to flee to greener pastures, they ask. How do I explain to them, this attachment. Thinking too deeply about it reminds me of its shortcomings. The people who did me wrong, The stifling environment, the ever so inquisitive, ever so bitter mouthed souls. The lethargic folks, always looking for trouble, Ambling to protest all sorts of supposed wrongs. Most days, I am filled with an emptiness here. But it is a known kind, unlike that elsewhere, Being away fills me with an unexplained longing. A friend who knows me too well at some point remarks, Is it your dogs? Are you unable to leave them behind. Perhaps. Is it the 'known fears are better than the unknown' thing? Perhaps. Such a strange thing, This concept of home. I close my eyes, and all I associate with the word, is this place. With its troub...

Sometimes existence feels like a facade, like one of those cardboard cutouts of buildings, all hollow from the back, propped up to give meaning to scenes in movies. Propelled by buttresses of wooden slabs, vulnerable still to the forces of the wind and storms. Life's best lived in pretension- who cares what's on the inside as long as the outside is brightly painted and gives out rather jovial vibes. I watch people bristle past, busy in their own lives. They glance over sometimes to ensure that the facade is to their liking, some wince in disgust at the brightness of it all. Very few walk over to look at the structure, at the other side of the fake white painted windows. Sometimes I think back to my school days, how we used to have music and dance competitions in which I took no part. At the end of it all, when it was time for the prize distribution, we would celebrate together, all of us, when our House came first. But it always felt shallow to me, the happiness barely skin...

the storm rages on outside heaven unleashing pent up anger hurling lightning bolts and screaming yells of wrath the ground below shook windows jolted it really feels like the end there is a battle underneath this elaborate concoction of skin and bones fragile enough to be shaken with all the yelling there is a wonder as to why there are only echoes and emptiness an undefinable pain within is there an answer for this or will the rains wash it all away till the voids are flooded with rivulets of regret and longing.

Newspaper article reads-  DESAM vandalises partying-bar, rounded up teenagers ( http://www.nelive.in/manipur/news/desam-vandalises-partying-bar-rounded-teenagers); there are videos already being circulated on social media documenting this 'raid'- men yelling at shocked girls who were just out to have a good day.  The organization justified it as a means of controlling 'cultural pollution' in the state. Apparently the youth of the state were falling prey to the evils of the world- booze etc, and needed such actions to save them all from doom.  I guess living in such a place, where such well wishers roam around, forcefully conducting 'Keina Katpa' of couples on dates and storming cafes and restaurants, and dictating what you can drink and do (and taking photographs and videos of such raids- of only the girls caught, and not the boys, mind you), one can be forgiven for wondering if one has time traveled to the medieval ages, or even the age of Taliban. The naha...

the mind is a strange thing, needing to be replenished every now and then with fresh sprinkles of hope and sparks of passion in order to survive. bleak hopelessness overpowers souls with every passing wave of time. I have become a grave of my once youthful energetic self- there was a time when I felt invincible, overflowing with ideas and illusions of how I would shine. and now all that is left are doubts. strangers look to me, polite smiles in place, and ask about life plans and goals. I fear my own answer, and have chosen the path of 'figuring out life' with a silly smile to numb the overwhelming feeling of failure. time races past my struggling self, with each passing tide I struggle to make sense of all that I am and all that I wish to be. there's still a flickering warmth inside, awakened once a while by well wishers who see me as more that what I seem, they once saw the light in me, and even now strain their eyes to catch a glimpse again. I flip t...

Unseen scars scatter on blemished skin, Each a infliction of unkind words spoken. It is so cruel, so very cruel, How easily words can be hurled at people, With no care about the consequences.

Perhaps it is because I am a simpleton at heart that I have failed to comprehend the heartlessness of human beings. There is something so wretched about a handful of gun wielding 'humans' showering bullets, with no remorse at all, on innocent souls just going about their daily routine. It seems to me that we have failed as a species to grasp the very essence of life. It has become an entity, cheaply bartered among various man-made compartmentalizations.