Like These Tip Of Buildings We See

To find that they were better off

Behind those locked doors.

Being lovers or strangers, either way being them

And not exposed and vulnerable

223. Incognito

Behind closed doors, they were lovers.

Half hidden, half in the light. My tangled legs wanna leave all this behind and run.

Run towards the light. Towards the peace towards serenity.

But my legs are struck,

they're bound to stay,

no one has locked me in,

but my legs are pulled back

and they are asked to stay.

They are told to finish what I'm doing.

Half in the darkness and half in light, my legs want to run towards the ocean.

I came home late and found Mike sitting on the couch very disturbed

Me : what happened Mike, you seem upset, everything fine at work..?

Mike : everything is fine at work, I just have to attend a wedding reception tonight, I just got a call.

Me : what's wrong in that? you tired?

Mike : no, Mary is getting married, remember.... my ex.?

Me : It's fine baby, since she is fine why do you worry..? Go, wish her and come back.

Mike : *sighs* ok, I'll go, can you come with me, please..?

*my phone rings*

Me : hello, yes, oh, how are you.?

what.?

Congratulations..... when..?

Today! I'll try

You won't believe this, Mark got married today and he just invited me for his reception, like now...!

Mike: what..? You're ex, Mark..? What a fucking coincidence..?

Me : I guess we both have to go and congratulate the couple, I wish I could have with you...

Mike : It's fine, get dressed.

We got dressed up and we both headed out, he took a cab and I took the car, I walk in to the reception hall and turn around to find Mike

Both of us were upset as shit. It was over, we could have not gone, but we had to, we had to tell them we moved on...

Mike : what the fuck, wait... really.

Yes our ex were getting married to each other, which means their ex got married to each other, which was fucking crazy. We dint invite them for our wedding, so they have no idea...

We walked up, posed for a pic, him next to her and me next to Mark. It was the worst situation I was in...

We walk out hand in hand...

Mary & Mark : that was my ex, deal done of inviting them to our wedding...

Now, more than us they were fucked up exactly on their wedding day...

I was never theirs

It took me a long time

To realize what had happened.

All this while I was blaming them

For the way I was.

It was me who made all the mistakes…

Mistake of trusting them,

Believing in them,

Thinking they were mine.

I thought I was loved less…

How wrong was I..

Coz’ I was never loved at all.

I thought they wanted good for me,

Alas, good was never present.

I thought a lot of things,

Perhaps how wrong was I…

My parents were never mine,

It was never their mistake

Coz’ I was the one who had mistaken

That I was theirs

But it turns out that

I was never theirs….

That girl I know

The solicited aspects of life turns on

Accepted mores of life goes on

But still there persists one constant thing

That isn't ready to go with change...

Change itself.

There are aspects she claims about herself

There are aspects she says she's not

But like everybody says

At the end of the day all she wants are eyes pleased

And people happy.

I haven't known her well

Even after knowing her for the past 21 or so years

She seems to be a confident, clear and sorted person

And the next fraction I see this trash of a person

She messes up everything just by over thinking

Everytime I tell her to shut up at unnecessary conversations.

Still she spills the words and poof! Goes everything

There are people who know the playful side of hers

And yet there are others who know her as rude and disrespectful

She throws up tantrums and sits up angry

And then there are people who now her as the quite and composed one....

I know her of not just flesh and bone

But rather deep inside

Of all these sides and more

Of all the broken relationships

Of all the complaints from childhood

Of all the fears from life....

I know her like no one else

But sometimes even I have a set back understanding what exactly she wants

Because she holds back from everything she needs

Having so much going on in her head

But still putting them all behind

And regretting of that one moment she takes for herself

Spending that one penny on her

Going that one extra mile.

I feel sorry for her if nothing else

Because of the heart that she holds

And the world she tries to put together

In the end she lands up letting go of herself for others

trying to figure me out

The other day someone asked me, what’s the most precious thing in your life? Or maybe something that you hold on to? I thought for a very long time and my answer was “nothing”. Yes, I do not associate feelings with objects anymore. There was a time when even the smallest of objects meant the world to me, where I was close to all petty things and anything anybody gave me it meant the world to me. I used to cry and drain my tears out if I lost something, but now things have changed. I first thought that it was because of the so called “maturity” I gained with increasing age and that it was normal. I thought it was childishness that I expressed before.

But I just feel that day by day I am getting detached from things. I think that I don’t associate feelings with objects because then, being objects they tend to get damaged and when that happens it hurts. And I thought maybe I’ll leave objects and associate greater amount of feelings with people. There are very few people in my life with whom I associate. I thought this was what growing up meant, that when you become matured this is what you do, but alas I preferred the childishness.

There was a thing with associating feelings with objects, there is no expectation of the object to have the same feeling towards you and thus without expectations there is no scope for disappointments.

With people it complicates things. You have to get what you give and when that does not happen you feel disappointed. So was I. With all those disappointments in life from people every now and then, I just realized that I can’t associate with anything. I just can’t.

Neither people nor things. After every failure, breakup of every relationship, loosing of objects I tend to move on very easily in life and people think that I’m emotionless, a lot have said too but I have just become so. From too emotional to emotionless. I couldn’t take the disappointments so I stopped expecting. Maybe this is good maybe it isn’t. I don’t know and I don’t want to know.

People say that I use them for my gain, well when I was being used I dint complain, but when you get the taste of your own medicine its bitter now!

People say that my behavior and attitude isn’t right, well you just get what you give.

I have always been told that my ego is my biggest enemy, you call it ego I call it, self respect.

I don’t care about others and their feelings you say, when no one gave a damn about me I just stopped caring.

For me, I am the way life has tamed me. I might be emotionless, egoistic, rude, emotionless or anything. It’s your perception about me, and I can’t do anything about it. But don’t give me hopes, don’t talk about me or regarding my presence in your life to someone associated with us and I get to know from them. If you want to say something, tell it to me right at my face I won’t feel offended. Don’t be surprised when I get worried about the people in my life, even though I don’t show any emotions I’m very protective when it comes to my people. I loved the old me but I wasn’t practical, the new me is just a reflection of how I’m treated. The people around me and situations I have been through have made me think this way. Maybe it isn’t it pleasing and convenient but this way I’m not hurt every now and then. So I prefer being this way because I now care more about me than others, as that phase of me putting everybody else before me has passed long time ago.

I woke up to bad news today,

I slept with my head spinning, when the world and my cozy little cocoon, both shattered.

I saw the disclaimer on the Instagram story.

Yet, I choose to watch it.

I twisted and turned in my bed, my last alarm rang. I had to leave or I'd be late for work.

I drag myself to the shower, the drops of water started dripping, my shoulder getting drenched. Drop by drop. Like people falling off an airplane

I came out, wore my cutest shirt, a gift from a rather someone. My eyes went moist. I picked up my hairbrush, hoping to brush more than my hair.

I packed my lunch box, made a face when there was upma for breakfast, ate cold cornflakes watching something funny on Netflix.

I rush to office, take my laptop out. The charger that'll sustain the day. My red thermal coffee flask with the black coffee for the day, the blue book and a pen I borrowed from someone.

I sit down, let out a sigh, and switched on my laptop to an array of emails to reply to.

Why are people working beyond work hours I wondered, maybe I should too, I thought for a second.

The sticky notes on my laptop reminded me of my two other jobs, with broken earphones, the day drifted without music to shush my thoughts. Someone passes the hallway wearing the same perfume that a boy I knew wears. Shattered promises, lucid dreams fake smiles and bike rides all rushed to my head.

In a rather larger, emptier office I started communicating to innamimate things and cleared the notifications of burning forests, dying animals and women in veils.

I haven't been able to eat. I haven't been able to sleep. My head questioning everything everyone did.

While I've come back to my rather comfortable room, cold milk, gazal songs and some cigarettes I move time to another day for some better food and strong coffee.

My phone beeps, i slide the notification and lie down on an empty terrace with sounds of traffic, a dog barking on the corner of the street and a thousand thoughts.

We seem to often complain that life seems strange. Well, life IS strange. There is really nothing we can do about it. In life everything is a surprise, we say that all we have is the present, but guess what we even ruin that. Coz, we don’t know what we are gonna end up doing.

I am not depressed right now, I am not angry either, for me this was a surprise. But somewhere deep down the lane, I knew that I would burst out, that I would lend a shoulder to cry on like I did last night, and that I would burst out the next day.

“It’s too good to be true.” It indeed is. How can you just agree to anything that someone says? What about your perspective then?

What about taking care of yourself, when are you planning to do that? I have done the same thing that you do. The same question is what rings in my mind all the time “what would they be going through?” BUT YOU SHOULD FUCKING STOP. In this long and tiring process of taking care of others, we lose our self. Because like we do, nobody in the fucking world cares. I know it’s not easy to change, but when you can change for good, why not?

Why would you want to keep stumbling upon the same stones that you always have? Why?

I know there are a lot of questions I am asking you here. I know. But these are questions you should ask yourself. I just am asking it so that it rings a bell.

I was the same as you. Talking care of other people’s feelings, their thoughts, what they would feel, and how they would have been feeling at that moment. But who are we to decide that? Everybody in life has shit to deal with, and it is their problem not ours. We need to have a grip on us, our feelings, our thoughts, what we are going through, because only then can you have a clear perspective about what you want.

Compromises for others are to be made in life all the time, but that doesn’t mean that we just keeping pushing our feelings in to that deep pit. Nope. We don’t do that and moreover we shouldn’t.

I don’t know what you feel, what you think because you don’t say and all you do is just agree with whatever shit I say. I may make sense, I might ever be right, not for you but for me. So stop doing things for me, stop agreeing with me and start giving respect to what you feel and you.

Big Brother

It’s great to live with a sibling they say.

The fights are just a form of love they say

They said a lot of things

They said that siblings as rebels would one day turn out to be best friends

I miss that kind of a sibling.

I have a brother, not a single child.

They say a sibling tries to pull you out of shit.

He has never known I was in shit.

They say a sibling helps to stay you sober

I am just sobbing being sober

I know this poem sucks

It just that I miss having a brother

And words are not making logic.

It’s just flushing out

My dear brother,

We have had fights, and a lot of hatred. I don’t know why you hated me or why I hated you. I love you and always have, that’s why I have and will always give the world to you. I’m sorry for not calling you, not talking to you. But I miss you, I terribly do. But face it; we have just gone through shit and to deal that I have no remedy. I don’t know how to fix things, but I just want to tell you that I want a brother, the usual caring big brother. Come back to me. Take me back.

It physically hurts me 

to see him, her and them

all laughing together.

To have been a part of it once

and now being a mere spectator.

To have had promises made

and to have them easily broken.

It physically hurts me,

to put myself to sleep every night

crying, weeping and consoling myself.

It haunts me that this separation

day in and day out

will pursue, till everything rather everyone vanish

It’s haunting to not understand the cause,

It physically hurts me

to see people I love hate me so much.

It physically hurts me to see that though a lot of people like me

no one understands what I feel

Being around so many people

no one notices that I weep right under their nose.

It haunts me that ‘

the validation rather the acknowledgement of my presence i seek from people will never be understood,

the need for someone around to lend me a ear and understand me will never be understood

It physically and emotionally hurts me.

it’s haunting to live in a place you hate, around people you hate, doing things you hate.

It’s haunting to tell all of this out loud. It’s hurting me inside out.