Beautiful hike yesterday in the magnificent mountains of the Pacific Northwest was my muse for these words to string together. Connection to nature allows me to have such a deep appreciation for the beauty of life itself
raghavendran@ladysag77. It is a great moment to spend our time enjoying the beauty of nature, whether it is on the mountains or on the beach ️ or in the forest. It is a great loss for those who miss these.
"Marilyn, where's my coffee?! " she yelled at the peak of her sharp voice. The voice that I always hated. After all, young it was. And what I hated even more, was her young chiseled face. Envy hit hard each time I saw her. And then there's me... Old, wrinkled and ugly. But you know what? Not anymore. So today, I served her the same coffee, just with a little extra dose of poison. It was always poisoned, with hate, of course. And so, with the putting down of Marilyn's pen, Marylin was dead. "Ahh the coffee never tasted any better!" Said Marylin, rocking in her arm chair, Adoring her young agedness.
PS: This was my psychology assignment, where we were asked to write a short story on the picture given below. :) A CHALLENGE COMING UP SOON!
In the crowds you will see me Waiting, to be freed. Waiting, to be identified Amongst the many dead bodies That surround me. You could be one too! And just like me, They too, are waiting to be-- Identified.
It's a long queue Seems like it's never gonna end. And standing, eagerly waiting Are us, the puppets of destiny. Who goes forward, Who remains behind, Who gets kicked out, Who dies, who gets killed Nothing- In our hands.
Destiny plays, and the Gods Stand watching, Like silent spectators of our fate.
But there's one thing you can do- Hold on. Tight. Firm. Confident. And never let go, Come what may. They say your destiny has been written Even before you were born. It's all based on what you've done, In your previous life. If that's so- what's the point of doing Anything in this life?! But that's not how it works.
You have to pull the cart of life, Even if you feel your bones are breaking. You gotta paint this canvas, Even when you run out of colours. So either way, it's do or die.
So why not spend these timeless moments, Smiling? Challenging destiny, "THROW ALL THAT YOU GOT. " I ain't gonna back off no more :)
You fed me poisoned tears, Thinking they would kill me, But only if I had not Made myself immune to them Drop by drop, Little by little I drank them-- Silently.
Now this poison of hate Has reached every nerve In my body I am that deadliest yet The most desirable venom. Your parched lips, will someday Ache to taste mine And only when you will no longer Be able to resist Will you come to me, With lustful eyes.
And you will make love to me, Like never before Only to realise, I am not love, I am death.
It's not always about money. It's about being successful.
It's not always about being successful. It's about hard work.
It's not always about hard work.. It's about luck.
It's not always about luck. It's about You. Your interests. Your passion. Simply Being You. If there's anything that can get you somewhere, it's only and only, your passion. It could be anything from climbing up to the tip of Mt.Everest or simply being lazy and doing nothing your whole life. Doesn't matter! Because-- Your definition of success doesn't always have to fit theirs.
It's how YOU define Your success. And not work according to the definitions set up by the society. You could lay in your bed watching documentaries your whole life and do nothing. NOTHING!! If that makes you happy, you could still call yourself successful. Success is subjective. Success, in the end, is what makes You happy . Because in the end, happiness is all what matters.
Tho I know, coming out from the burden of expectations ain't easy. Letting go of the desires ain't easy either. Freeing yourself from the norms of society and the stress and ugly stares that come along with it, ain't very easy and only a few courageous ones can do that. We all are courageous. We just make ourselves appear as cowards because we fear being the odd-one-out in the room.
So what?! If being You, makes you look odd, THEN BE IT. BECAUSE EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT. And that truly means you are on the right track. Following your heart. No one knows yet where the road leads us. But we still keep walking. Because, it's chosen by us and no one has forced us onto it. No one is dragging us all along. As someone has wisely said, "it's better to regret something you do then to regret something you haven't'
Don't let anything or anyone stop You from achieving what You want to. And trust me, the luck, the hard work, the success, and the money,-- Nothing matters in the end. Only what matters is how many smiles you have smiled and how many, passed on.
Been seeing them since the moment we are birthed. In fact, are born with one. Faces. I mean. What are we? Nothing but the blend of two faces in one.
When young and naive, we only see them. When old enough, we read them. They display thousands of words unspoken, millions of feelings unexpressed, an array of emotions ranging from anger to laughter and grief to joy. When tall enough, we wear them, When matured enough, we paint them With layers and layers and layers of fakeness and the thickest coats of envy, Until they finally develop cracks. Through the crevices of which, Drip little by little, the tears of a broken soul.
We judge them, curse them, mould them, Wrap them, hide them, but do we ever Know what lies behind them? Have you ever tried to sneak a peek ? Ever wondered the sum of the smiles must be coming to how many kilograms of grief? Ever felt the quintals of love, folded in between those wrinkles?
Have you ever touched a face, apart from your own? Have yours rubbed against theirs, and transferred the electrons of trust and hope From cheek to cheek? Ever calmed the pain of aching lips? Ever soothed the burns of age old agony? Have you ever.... Wrote poetries on someone else's scars?
What are you waiting for? In the end, faces are nothing but moments. They change every minute. Gone once, cannot be brought back. So go, capture them! Every wrinkle, every scar. Every pimple, Each mark.
Read them, learn them,and trace them, till it paves Your way to all the forbidden emotions of The past. After all, so what if broken, They all have a story to tell. ♡
The door bell ranged and I opened the door. And to my surprise, I saw at my doorstep a basket of big crimson red roses and it had your name on it.
Gosh. How happy I was that night! Their fragrance filled my room with amore My bed, the curtains, me, my hair-- Everything smelled roses.
"Write to me when you get this" The card said. And when I sat down to write, I thought, I would pick one up, the rose I mean. To see it from close. To let it's aroma mix with every single breath I inhaled.
Just when I put my hand in, to take it out, A thorn pricked my fingertip. Blood oozed out. In crimson red. I didn't care much, and wrote to you In painful letters,... "I love you"
Had I only taken that as a sign, Today you wouldn't be here, Laying lifeless , infront of my eyes, Smeared in Crimson Red.
Do you ever? Just sit in your balcony at midnight, With nothing but a cup of coffee, And gaze at the stars, And wonder, What lies beyond them?
Why do they shine so bright, As if hiding something from us. Something really dark perhaps? Do you ever wonder, Even the moon could be Having a dark side, A dark past maybe? Why is it then, all throughout our life, We see only one of it's sides ?
But do you also ever appreciate The courage they hold To shine, so bright, Even in the darkest of nights?
You ever think, where the horizon ends? Or Where the distant clouds touch the ground? Where are the rivers flowing? Always in a hurry, gushing with a speed, that takes down with it everything that comes It's way, only to go and dissolve In the placid sea? Are they trying to disturb the calmness of the ocean? Or Maybe they too, wish to see the sun Before it sets? Maybe.
Where does the rain go, when it's not October anymore , And the birds go, When the dark takes over? Where do lovers hide, when hate seizes Dominance? Does a relationship lose it's meaning when there's no romance?
Why are we always bound By the fence of time? Responsibilities? Judgements? Tears and our fears? Why are we tied by the chains of, 'What will they say' ?!
What if, one day, just one day, We gain enough strength, Muster up enough courage And break it all? The stigmas..... The chains I mean.
And laugh, and run and play and jump, And feel whatever, however WE want to. Be wild again? Is it too much to ask for? To be happy? And why, oh why, do we just Go around looking for it, When it resides within us. Happiness.
Yes we can. Definitely. Break those chains and fences and run away. And leave it all behind and promise to never look back. But the question remains, How long?
And then again, you ever wonder, where will we go? It's a small world after all. While we may even never look back, What if, they come from the front?
You know when you're alone in a place with very little oxygen and light and space and you realize, it feels like it's never gonna end, and you don't have nothing to do cuz it's all dark and there's no way out or maybe there is, but we cannot see it or maybe even if we see it, we wouldn't believe it, it could be a trap! That's when-- We start counting our breaths. All those inhales and exhales. All those breezes and gales Which bring along with them, Particles of dust and fear; Once inhaled, seldom do we exhale them.
Yes we exist. You, me, they and...Our Fears. They come in various shades of gray, brown and blood red. Often coated with the hues of blue. Like the thorns on a rose, totally unwanted. And they don't come alone. They bring with them, Restrictions.
Every walk you walk Every talk you talk Every laugh you laugh, There's a fear Of you being watched. The devil lurks around you with his eyes always focused on you. You know it. You are being observed, and so, are being restricted, to be the way you want to.
Every breath is being counted. Nothing is your own.
With every step, you need to be twice as much as careful, than before. Every breath, every bite, every step, every smile, each word, may it be written or typed or scribbled, is being seen. Noted.
Your fear constantly tries to remind you, " You are nothing! " I would further like to add, "without me"."
We are nothing without our fears. Every body has fears. Some show, other's don't. It doesn't really matter. Because fear, doesn't have a cure. It digs in your heart, a deep, dark pit. And sits in it. Refusing to come out. If you wish to take it out from there, you gotta hop in. And if you do, there's no way out.
So it's better to live along with it. But how long?
Will Your Fears Ever Leave You ?? Night and day, we keep asking ourselves the same question. Will we ever be free of restrictions?! Sometimes the restrictions are so much, even the fear is restricted. Sometimes it all becomes too much to bear. You know, the water has surpassed it's limits. Even breathing is restricted. Every inhale is nothing but your restrictions choking you and every exhale is nothing more than a battle. Battle for air. Even the free flowing air is restricted. This is a war between you and your fears. Victory- Assures Freedom. But-- Victory itself is not assured.
Let's go home, the heart cries. But again, restrictions. You cannot cry. Nor can you go home. You pinch yourself, hard, in the hope of waking yourself up from a deep sleep and wish so badly for this to be a nightmare. Spoiler Alert: It isn't.
But then you realize you are no longer alone in this battle. You see the shadows of good hopes coming to fight for you. The sunrays are your swords and the moon, your shield. Your art is your armour. Your words, your arrrows. Aim them. And shoot. And don't think much. And you see it, it goes, piercing through restrictions, targeting the fears and killing them straight and sharp, in a blow.
They lay over there, dead. Some, luckily alive,but powerless. The air is your victory and Freedom-- Your crown. Wear it with pride, and slayyyyy ♡
Doesn't suit the challenge, had written this long time back, but please give it a read :)) #happyc @writersbay
:) "How to be happy" i googled. At 3 in the morning. Even google must have giggled. And for some reason, i laughed hard enough on my own pathetic joke-only to scare away my cat. -_-
:) As expected, google didn't come up with any satisfactory answers. Spend time with a "loved one" it said. And I was like, yes I do. A lot. I spend so much of time with myself. But that ain't making me happy anymore. All what it does, is make it more complicated than it already is. I have now started hearing voices. And I can't sleep anymore unless I toss in my bed a thousand times.
:) "Try different varieties of making coffee" Another website said....And here's me, Making dalgona coffee every morning for the last 2 months and it doesn't make me Happy anymore. The slightest smell of coffee makes me want to puke.
:) "Eat strawberries" anonther one said. *applauds* Wow! How well do you know me for you to list that one fruit I am allergic to, thinking it would make me happy. It could kill me. LIKE...KILL!!! Oh wait! It now makes sense. Everyone is happy after death, ain't it? Wild thoughts like this one, make me smile and help me sleep through the night in the hope of never getting up the other day. Hahaha... Ha.
:) Then I scrolled, and scrolled and kept scrolling till I reached the last website on the last page. I clicked open it and here's what it said: "Keep your phone aside. Get that blue light off your face. Now step out, bare foot. And just look around you. And feel everything that there is to. The monsoon breeze kissing you on your neck, the wet grass , tickling your feet, The bougainvilleas and the chrysanthemums blooming at your arrival. Peacocks seducing each other to death whilst the rain, making you all wet and drenched from tip to toe. Quenching every thirst you've ever had. Look at the soil...dressed like a bride, wearing the fallen leaves and flowers as her ornaments, and blushes with every touch of your skin. So much is her beauty, it could even bring the dead, back to life.
:) Look. Look at those kids, sailing paper boats in the muddy puddles. Care less and free. Unbound by the boundaries of the past, And unafraid of the not-so-far-away future. Totally living in the moment.
:) Watch. Observe. Seek. Learn and Heal. Do a good deed today. Maybe feed that hungry dog who waits in anticipation at your gate in the hope you will feed him, someday. Or maybe go and visit your neighbor, the old lady who lives alone in the apartment next to yours. Reach out. Who knows, for that could be the reason she would smile after ages?
:) Remember, The only way to be really "happy" is when you will bring a smile on somebody else's face. So hey! Get up!! Unlearn. And start afresh! AND NEVER LET THE VIBE DIE. GET. SET. GO!
:)) With the shutting of my laptop, I opened up my eyes. Wait... What?! Was it all a dream?! So I quickly switched on my laptop Only to search the whole of Google and I never found that website again...
You need not bring me a bouquet of red roses. I will be happy even with fallen daisies. Though roses are red with pride, they also come with thorns. Whereas daisies, they come with a touch of simplicity. White- A combination of all the colors in one. Just what a relationship is about. The highs and lows, the ups and downs and above all, the trusts and betrayals. And centered with Yellow - A symbol of loyalty and joy. ~What more do we need? ♡
I lay here. Like, just lay. No feelings, Hollow bones and an empty mind. And oh! Apparently, I am even breathing. But for some reasons, it feels like, I am not breathing enough. I am running short on air. And now I am choking.
Help! I want to scream, but they said they hate screams or loud voices, or simply, Voices. And so I don't. And prefer keeping quiet. Prefer being voiceless with a voice which I never let out. Because I fear, if I let out a scream, what if they slit my tongue?!
Well, either way, I don't use it much anyways. But it's presence at least assures me that some day, SOME DAY..... I will scream, at the peak of my voice, till the vibrations have echoed in every single heart out there. Till all the ears are aware about my existence. Loud enough to deafen each one of them.
But that day seems light years ahead. So I just suffer. Silently. Practicing my screams, in my head. For, the day I get a chance, I can be perfect at it.
I now feel the grip on my neck getting lighter. The air is coming back to my lungs. I gasp. And inhale. And exhale. And do it, till every cell in my body is content.
This happens every night. Sometimes, worse. There are nights when even my eyes want to cry out. And then there are my lungs, choking. It's difficult to hold them back from doing what they can the best --- let out voices, loud enough to kill the silence in a blow. But I don't let them. What if someone hears it? What if someone wakes up?! Slits my tongue, burns my eyes?! My worst fear. And so, I have to keep them shut- come what may. Eyes holding back tears and lungs almost on the verge of dying. A tongue who wants to let out a sigh-- But scared. And consoling them all, Is a heart as fragile as a snowflake.
Perhaps the only one, who understands me and my fears and my urges. The one, who hasn't given up. Yet.
Silence is golden, they say. No!! It fucking ain't. Neither golden, nor silver. All that it is, is an ugly shade of brown and gray mixed together.
Solitude is golden. The silence you get from peace is different than the silence in times of chaos and oppression. These are the times that need you to SPEAK UP!
Impenetrable silence outside, But inside your own mind are loud unknown peculiar, voices, constantly nagging and blaming you for no particular reason. It could be your own voice. It seems unfamiliar, probably because you've never heard it. It keeps echoing in your head with every passing second. These voices get louder and louder with every setting sun.
Until one day, you finally get up. And say, ENOUGH. And you scream, and scream, and keep screaming till your throat hurts and your lungs bleed. That will be the day, the phrase, "Silence is Golden", will finally make sense again. ❣
It's past midnight. As I sit here, hungry, with nothing but dead silence all round me. This is some different sorta hunger. Not for food, but for love, knowledge and peace. I want to learn,seek, feel, and above all, heal and grow, and fly away. At the stroke of midnight. With a pen and a book and paint and a brush. And paint the world blush pink.
But then again, I come back to reality only to see the dull silence still awaiting. It hasn't faded away yet?!
You see... All these greedy and discontent faces, wrinkled with the scars of agony and useless experiences with those rude loud mouths which have now been stitched with the threads of silence, have now gone to sleep. Finally.
They just lay here, in this dark but peaceful ,timeless night, Closing their eyes... With the hope of getting up the other day to witness dawn. Totally clueless about life and dark surprises.
Like little babies. Little do they know who they are, how they are and where they are, when they fall asleep.
But I know. I know who we are when we fall asleep. We are-- our most real selves. The most raw and beautiful versions of ourselves. We are all artists, writers and poets when we fall asleep. Painting our own dreams, giving them our own words and narrating them to our own unconscious self. Fighting the demons of our own imagination, battling against all the odds, which never exist, but we are deluded. And as we go deeper and deeper, the clouds of delusion get thicker and thicker and we before we even knwo it, we are trapped. It's all dark, and we stand there, alone and defenseless and totally uncertain of whether or not to take a step forward. For we are scared of tripping and falling into the whirlpool of all these memories and challenges we have been running away from ages. We are scared to face them all. And the worst part, once you fall, there's no exit.
We see someone coming closer and closer and closer, and in no time, it has put it's hands all round our neck and it's trying to strangle us to death. We see our defenseless selves struggling to get out of it's catch, to get free, to breathe. Thomping our feet to the ground , with our hands begging for forgiveness, but all in vain.
THIS. This is what the artist is trying to tell us. The past. It never leaves us. It's always there. Good or bad, broken or stitched, gray or red, but it's there. And it will continue to haunt us, as long as we try to run away and never face it. It will keep chasing us. We can never forget it or burn it down to ashes. All what we can do is hide it. Within the secret chambers of our fragile hearts. And never look back.
But then again, all this is temporary. The artist cannot stay for too long. Just like the midnight moon, he too has to takebpur leave now. He did what he could do best for us -- Painted for us, tge dreams, Or perhaps, the nightmares.
All that hustle bustle and the chaos that come along with the broad daylight, haunt him. And so he seeks escape. He flutters, in an attempt to break open the chains and escape the gates of our souls. He has done his job....Of reflecting upon us our own dark past. But the reflections are so bright, he fears... What if they blind his own eyes?! The very thought of this, fears him. This is an artists fear. And so with all the power that he posseses-- The power of words, and all the force that he knows- the force of wisdom, he breaks open the chains, and jumps into the black hole, at the other end of which probably lies a much peaceful world. Where he can write poetries, instead of nightmares.
And that's when we wake up. Sudden. Our eyes, still trying to adjust to the bright sunlight that falls on them. Our brain, trying to join the pieces of the suddenly-shattered-nightmare. This is that part of the day, we are present somewhere amidst our nightmares and an even scarier reality. It is only then are we reminded of our less than twenty four hours left to complete our daily chores, which if not done, do no harm but we think they do. And the dream dreamt, is long forgotten. With the first rays of the dawn, we become our own audience who applauds loud enough to put the artist to sleep. ❣