The Outside Word Is Harsh And Cold

I dont want to...

You seldom start a journey with hopes of being somewhere, excitement of meeting someone and the thirst to be around your people.

So did I want to be in a place where no matter how crazy I become it would be fine.

Because I was going "home" where there were "my people"

Mistaken was I that it would not matter.

Because I just was an obligation they could not say no to.

The excitement was one sided and so were the hopes.

Even before reaching I want this journey to end

My destination never to come.

I want to go back and never return.

This was a bad idea but now I cant turn back.

I dont want this vaccation

I dont wanna go "home"

You can't mess with my head and then say I was wrong. You can't tell me I'm amazing and then stop talking to me.

Like these tip of buildings we see

Lays the faces of people

Not just others but also yours and mine

Where all of our beauty is beneath the clouds

And they see from top

Flying so high

Never coming down

To know what we are

I wish you came down

And knew what I was

Right from the bottom

All the way up.....

I grab the tissue box next to me as I weep, while she says she was there just for him and doesn't tell him how much she loves him, because she loves him to let go. I cry. While he says the wrong name at the alter I cry because that's not who he's meant to be with and I cry.

My phone beeps, it's the reminder telling me to write. I close my laptop grab my notebook and stare at the empty page.

I think of what makes me cry, as that's what I'm supposed to write about and I have no clue what makes me cry.

I think of my abusive father, the assaults I've faced, and nothing brings a tear. I think of my first love and how he cheated on me, and go on to think of all the love I've lost and still not a tear.

I stare at the empty page, thinking of lost love and lost childhood, and nothing makes me sad. I've grown hostile to them all.

I give up. Close the book, and that's when I hear the Azan at the distant corner, along with the prayer announcing the Eid tomorrow.

It's been 8 years since I've been home for Eid, I search for my prayer mat and dust the Quran. I'm not religious at all, but the only time I pray is just twice a year, that's the least I can do for some biriyani, and moving out, that's the closest I have felt to home. The azan is what makes me home, it reminds me how my granny rushes to go pray as soon as she hears it; it reminds me of the eagerness I and my little brother used to have during Ramzan to break the fast. It's the closest I feel to home because the only part of childhood I remember till today is my grandpa coming to pick me up from my school, and going to the mosque nearby to pray. It still is my grandpa's mosque to me while he is now buried there, it has become his. The wait to pray tomorrow is what makes me drop a tear, and that's when I realize, the Azan giving me the distant memory of home is what makes me cry.

I set the room for prayer, grab that notebook with the empty page, start writing with tears filling my page and go back to sleep.

Image from @a-small-startup

Why is one particular thing interconnected to so many particular things that to have one particular thing all other particular things must get in order to that one particular thing....

Me, myself again

I don't express love in the right way

I don't say the right thing at the right time

But I have never been fake

Nor has my love been a hoax.

.

Just because I'm not like the rest of the world in being all sweet and cheesy

Doesn't mean I care less

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I AM THIS WAY

I'm Adamant, Loud, Curious, Sentimental, but that doesn't mean my soul is bumbling.

.

These are traits in my character that are not so good maybe, but look there are other "good" ones too.

.

If my adamance is bothering you

Let it be.

.

If me having an opinion is smothering you

Then you are suffocating by your own thoughts.

.

I may not be the apple of your eye

Or the centre of you're world.

Guess what

I don't want to be.

But how can my mere presence bother you

Just because we hold a past

.

I'm not agitated just with you,

But by a lot of people around me.

How can you judge me so easily even after knowing me.

You're so wrong with your calculations coz your decisions aren't always the right.

.

If you still say I have a problem, then be it

Coz my problem isn't that big a deal

All I do is care too much and love too much all the wrong people at the wrong time to whom I have never been significant. Ever.

.

I'm glad your smile is above my scar.

I'm really glad.

I look through the window, to find many other buildings.

While I'm lighting my candle, sipping my chai

I see a hundred other things that's going on

A man maybe in his 30s sits infront of a laptop and works all day, he sometimes cribs and get up, but the call holds him back and he gets back to work

I see this young couple from another window, who have fairy lights and white curtains.

Every night they are in each other's arms having a movie marathon

I look away and my eye lands on the woman who has 2 children running around her all the time, while the toddler paints the house with his crayon the other child plugs in the headphone and sits for class. I see childhood smashed there in front of screens and I let out a sigh.

I wonder if someone looks through my window and sees me sometimes dancing to the tunes, and other times cooking to the same tunes.

While sometimes I try to get some work done, other days I wake up in the afternoon.

I wonder sometimes if someone looks through my window and says, that girl has always music to muse to.

I wonder if someone knows that I plug in to my earphones all the time because I can't be left alone with my thoughts.

I wonder if someone sees me through my window and wonders how days in my life are.

When someone asks me how my days go, I have no answers, because there is no more a normal day, a routine or a purpose. There is nothing I look forward to, or something I do.

A normal day in my life isn't normal anymore.

Image from: @a-small-startup

Family is not just mom and dad

It's the one who love you

And I've seen mine in you

I know I'm an idiot

I ruin things that are great in life

And later mourn about it

I realise late that I've damaged

What we had

And this time I guess it's beyond repair

For the first time I wish

I had an undo button for life

Coz' I have never mourned over anything

Like this before

I have had fights with you before

But believed it will all be fine

But I guess I lost you this time

Once and for all...

Have you ever felt so lost

That the only company you find is the smoke from the cigarette

And when the bud touches your lips, it's the closest you've got to open your mounth

To spill out words.

You come back round and round,

To the same place, you think you're lost at

But you're back where you started.

Maybe you're here

And that's where you should be.

You vent to the open sky

The smoke comes back and hits your eyes

And the bud that burns your lips.

Sometimes the solitude is the company you want

And the company you want waits for you

Somewhere lost in the same circle.

You go back and they turn the other way.

You're lost finding them

And they're lost hoping to find you.

Sometimes you think you wanted this

And other times you think you don't.

Sometimes you don't have the energy to do it

And when you do. You don't find the people you pushed long time ago.

Sometimes you feel this was how it was supposed to be.

And other times you don't have the energy to undo any of it.

Only if life was as easier as control Z

And a fresh sheet pops up and you can write it all over again