Was given these words by a friend, sometimes that is all we have..
Was given these words by a friend, sometimes that is all we have..
Okay, to hell with it.
I was going to write something sensible. Pour out sufi thoughts over here in line with a heartbreaking mail that I wrote today morning. But honestly I’m tired.
Why is love tiring?
Why can’t we just automatically find our ‘soul mate’ or whoever it is that we are supposed to live with for eternity?
Why do the people you love turn out to be wrong for you?
Born in a different century, Married, Commitment phobics, In a different state of mind or perfect?
More than half the people I know are heartbroken, the other half are love sick. We all have our own issues with love, at times we don’t find our match, sometimes we do but we are scared in our own weird way and drive people away, sometimes our not so better halves run away, infatuations are mistaken for love and at times we just don’t want to.
I’ve been holed up every weekend at home with myself, sure I day dream about falling head over heels in love most of the time but I’m scared. Petrified of putting in that effort, going out on dates, finding people to date, talking on the phone and getting involved in general, new dreams with them making a regular appearance.
Hence, I have decided to not look/search/seek love, if it wants to find me, it would have to pull me out of the pile of blankets that I’m under and convince me to fall back in the trap.
And to those who have given up, its okay to not want to look at the world around in love tinted glasses, its okay to not want to believe in the book romance and its okay to leave matters to fate.
But to all of those who still have their hopes up, may you find the strength to love and not stop seeking for it, may you cage your heart behind steel enclosures and not get hurt. May you find what you are look for.
Because what you seek, is seeking you..
I bury my nose in a pillow, my legs resting atop another, I close my eyes and inhale. A tired muffled sound, of fatigue of travel that has come tumbling down. Through the streets of sri lanka, specks of sand that coat my legs, sting of salt still in the humid air, to the winding cobblestone streets in England, behind closed windows that smell of illicit affairs, to strolling down generations in Calcutta, nostalgia of a language, of a childhood that ran by, a stream of events that altered the course of many entwined lives.
Over the course of two days, I devoured 3 books, in the company of a tall glass of sweet brown chai, 6 marie biscuits, intermittent rains and a burst of glitter coloring the skies.
Oddly I feel like the words have traveled, through my fingertips and into my veins, an odd sense of calm in my heart. The promise of the pages of a book bearing the story of a library in Japan to make peace with the pile of work that the week brings.
I watched a movie last Saturday, and of the many words uttered between characters, one line struck a nerve, rather an artery that made my heart bleed, yearning for a long forgotten feeling. The protagonist describes his happiness as “dil ka pet bhar gaya“, which loosely translated meant that the heart’s stomach was full. What a strange yet accurate way of describing happiness, the feeling of contentment, of not wanting any more.
Oddly enough this got me wondering about companionship, of the feeling of content that seeps through your pores, makes you heart smile, sends your brain on a high, makes your pulse race. Offlate my phone has been buzzing with messages, some etch a punctual good morning, others indulge in flattery, words strung like a delicate string of pearls, of brash inquiries of weekend plans, of resorting to reason for a yes.
I have realised, been painfully aware of it for a while that I bear no affection for a skin, dressed in expensive clothes, doused in aftershave and perfume, of a collage of words from movies and books, of the need to replicate the usual romantic gestures.
What lies beneath that carefully embroidered mask and the instant noodles philosophy that you are so quick to dish out, of the things you think when you are alone, of the thoughts that haunt you, of the talisman that you live by. What drives you, stops you, makes you smile, brings tears to your eyes, crack into laughter or descend into silence.
There are days like today when I do not feel the need of someone else, when I’m mindful of the fact that I have nothing to give in return for someone else’s time. When I can feel the gears that keep the clock of this world running slow down, my heartbeat sink to a low whimper.
When solitude no longer means being alone.
You squint your eyes to look ahead, long winding road, black shining tar, sweltering heat. And then you turn back, look at the miles that you’ve covered. Half wondering how you reached where you reached, you can’t see the pit stops, all a daze, the sky and earth blend, grey and bright.
But you keep walking, running, in a make-believe race. Your bones hurt, your soul questions, but you never wake up. And then you think of how would it be if you quit. Just walked off that road and sat down on the sidewalk, refusing and bobbing your head no, to all questions asked.
But there is no side walk, so you walk, fatigue ripping apart all your dreams and hope.
Have faith, breathe. Sometimes that is all we can do. I have often wondered where and how do people end up and the past few years have taught me that sometimes you have to believe that there are things written for you, fate, destiny or position of stars. Sometimes circumstances take the decisions that we are too scared to make, that carry the burden of being indecisive.
You don’t need to climb any mountain to enjoy the view, to reap the fruits of your hard work, to put in 30 years of numbness to watch your account balance swell.
Stay. Still, calm. Let your lungs breathe. Smile, as often as you can. And look up.
Out of all the lives you could live, as what you could be born, you’re here. Of all the inhabitable universes, here you are on Earth, with a blue sky above your head, with a heart that pumps blood relentlessly never giving up hope on you. So that you don’t.
For those reading this, its easy to quit, its easy to concentrate and read all that is wrong, its easy to run on the well trodden road. You aren’t here to do all that others have done earlier, chart your own course, satisfy your desires, do what you want, wish others well, from your heart, take a learning from everyday and thank someone, anyone, give a hand to pull someone who needs it, give a shoulder to lean on, sometimes all that any of us want to
I sit here wondering of all the places I’ve walked, roamed and wandered in search of you. Sometimes a fervent prayer, daydreaming of you, at times a wish upon a star, in a blur of tears or in a daze of happiness.
I’ve left clues, breadcrumbs along the way, asked questions, looked out for neon signs with a hundred bulbs, but you manage to dodge me. In new people, places and experiences, I wonder if you’d tap my shoulder and call me out. Lend me your hand and pull me out of this maze.
I think of how easy you come to some, some bump into you unknowingly, at times others don’t realise your absence and then there are ones like me who are eternally seeking out for you.
When will our paths ever cross?