Tag Archives: #life

Back to the starting point

Do you ever have those moments where everything that could go wrong, goes wrong? Where you’re trying so hard to understand what role you had to play in this destruction, but you can’t seem to find any. Where the sky breaks apart, and you’re just standing there wondering why things are happening the way they are. The land beneath your steps shakes like an earthquake, and you plunge straight down in the core of the earth.

Everything you stood up for comes tumbling down. All the things you did in life replay like a movie, and you’re counting every single memory wondering if you ever did anything wrong to deserve this. And you find so many flaws and loopholes in this small life of yours that you accept everything that is happening because you deserve it. Because you’re an inconvenience in a world that is supposed to be perfect. Because you’re a blemish in the face of beauty.

That’s how I feel right now. Like a huge chunk of my chest is missing, and I don’t know where it is. Like there’s a hole in my heart, and all the happiness is leaking through; I can’t seem to keep it in no matter how hard I try.

Like water, contentment is flowing through the gaps in between my fingers and no matter how hard I try to grasp it, I can’t seem to hold it in. All I have are empty palms, and I keep looking at them in hopes that they’ll miraculously be filled. But they never are.

It’s this odd feeling of emptiness that takes away so much energy. Like you’re trying to create happiness from whatever source you can, but it’s time-consuming and it’s hard. It’s like forcing a lump of coal to transform into a diamond. It’s like forcing the sun to come out at night.

It’s hard fighting this emptiness, so you give in to this feeling of despair because the war you’re fighting isn’t worth the damage. But the most ironic thing is that no matter how hard you try to avoid being injured, you end up with wounds so deep that no salve can cure them. The war you’re trying to avoid is forcibly kissing you on the lips.

I guess life has a way of dragging you back to the starting point. Maybe because the road you were taking wasn’t yours to take. Maybe the victory you dreamt of wasn’t in your destiny. Maybe your whole direction was wrong, and life is trying to point you to a path that has your name written on it.

But we’re stubborn. We refuse to see what we can’t comprehend. Sometimes the only thing we can do is have faith. Have hope. Believe. Happiness is like a butterfly. The more you run after it, the more it’ll fly away. Just stay still. Be calm, and happiness will come to you, and it will settle down in between your palms on its own.

Picture from Pexels

Giving into failure…

Do you ever become so tired of fighting that you willingly give into failure? You stab yourself in the back so no one else would have the chance to do it. You fall to your knees, clench your teeth as tightly as you can and scream until your own voice gives up on you and then you give up on yourself.

It’s like you accept failure even before you try. You give into defeat even before you start the war. You lower your weapons and your guard and wait for that blow and when it hits, it knocks the breath out of you. You become so helpless that no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to rise. It’s like the ground has wrapped its arms around you and is pulling you down (and in this case, it’s definitely not gravity).

Why do we do this? Why do we let doubt cloud our judgments? Why do we accept defeat when the outcomes are infinite? Maybe because the thought of losing is worse than the actual loss. Maybe because it’s better to be prepared for the worse; it hurts less. Maybe we’re actually scared of winning, scared of not knowing what will happen. Maybe it’s the unknown that hurts. If we knew and we were a hundred percent sure that we would lose, it wouldn’t cause too much damage. But not knowing and having that tiny glint of hope is what makes us ache at the end.

But the thing no one has ever told me is that fighting isn’t always about winning. It’s about falling, crashing, bleeding and then rising and reforming. The bravest warriors don’t come out of war wearing a crown and a silk cloak. They come out in pieces. In ruins. In wrecks with tears spilling down their cheeks. They come out with wounds as big as the sky and cuts as deep as the ocean.

They’re torn and broken, but they manage to keep themselves together. These warriors don’t always win every war, but they make every war count. They learn from their fall and pick themselves up no matter how badly injured they are. They strike and plunge. Hit and ache, but they don’t give up. They find new ways. New paths. New strategies. They learn from defeat and fight until they have no option than to rise.

This is how life is. You won’t always win. You won’t always get your way. You’ll fall, just as you will rise. You’ll drown but that’s the only way you’ll learn how to float. It’s hard. I know. But the next time life drags you down and threatens you with all of its pawns. Smile. Look it in the eye and say, “bring it on.”

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon from Pexels

A failure’s plea

Keep your lips sealed
and please don’t look away
just listen to my voice
there’s something I have to say
maybe a couple of words
locked behind this fear
that if I break my silence
you won’t be able to hear
and yet again I choke
with words as loud as screams
hoping you would listen
to all those words I speak
so consume all this silence
and slowly nod your head
just pretend you were listening
to all the words I said
they might not make sense
and it’s hard for me to explain
but promise me you’ll listen
to all the things I’ve held in vain
tell me that you’ll hide me
and in you I can confide
because I’ve lost that war
the one you wanted me to fight
I’ve failed to rise higher
from where you thought I’d start
I’m sorry that I’ve let you down
I’m sorry that I’ve lost
please don’t look away, Mom and Dad
look into my eyes
tell me that you’ll forgive me
because I’ve failed to rise
I know I broke those dreams
the ones you helped me see
please don’t let me lose that hope
the one you burned in me
you’ve worked day and night
because I know you’ve done a lot
but promise me you’ll help me fight
even though I’ve lost this war
help me wipe off this dirt
and help me clean my wounds
tell me you’ll be there for me
so I could rise from this ground
I’m trying to get up again
but I need your help
don’t lose your faith in me
I’m sinking in myself
I was afraid of being a failure
even though I promise I tried
I was scared to hurt you
so I kept the words inside
tell me that you’ll accept my choice
and that I am not alone
let me conquer all those dreams
the ones you had shown
I know I’ve done many wrongs
but please don’t push me away
hold me close to yourself
and tell me everything will be okay
I know you can’t hold my hand
or carry me in your arms
but you can give me all your blessings
and hope to carry on.

A failure’s plea

Poetry book: Curing My Venom

Pexels image

 

Random facts about me…

I was born in Pakistan, and I came to the US when I was 4 years old. It’s been a back and forth journey ever since.

The fastest I’ve solved a Rubix cube is thirty seconds.

I’m learning how to play the guitar (and so far, I’ve mastered twinkle-twinkle little star).

I’m learning how to be ambidextrous. Yes, I can write with both hands… well kinda.

I usually don’t order food, because I like eating what other people order.

I have a bad habit of half-ing food. Meaning if I buy something I’ll only eat half, no matter how hungry I am.

I have claustrophobia and agoraphobia.

I dislike wearing makeup. I feel like I’m wearing a mask and hiding myself.

I hate wearing shoes. I like walking barefoot because I feel like I’m closer to Mother Earth.

I can daydream for hours and hours, and I would never get bored- that’s why I’m messed up in the head.

I love lying down on the grass and gazing up at the sky.

I love flowers, but I hate plucking them because I feel like they look beautiful when rooted to the ground.

I love the rain, even if it’s cold. I love the way the drops touch my skin and bounce off. (That’s why I never carry an umbrella and end up getting sick).

I’m scared of animals (and occasionally humans).

I love reading and writing. My phone is filled with unfinished novels, poems, and stories that I won’t ever publish.

I’m very passive aggressive. I could be dying, and I still won’t tell you why I’m mad.

I bite my lips and the insides of my cheeks when I’m nervous. If I’m scared, I’ll practically chew off my lips.

The thing I look in someone when I meet them for the first time is the way they smile.

I get cranky and mad if I don’t sleep well.

English is my least favorite subject. History and math are my most favorite subjects. I get excited when I have to solve algebraic equations.

I dislike seafood: I hate anything that’s not fish, including shrimp and crabs.

I love walking. I could walk all the way to California from NYC.

I’m not a morning person, nor am I a night person. I’m more of an evening person.

I like peeling lemons and eating them like oranges.

I love talking to myself. The voices in my head are more appealing than most people I know.

I don’t have a favorite color.

I’m a very sporty person. I love playing cricket, volleyball, badminton and now tennis.

I wear glasses, but you’ll barely see me wearing them.

I’m very sensitive to smell.

When I was young I had so many imaginary friends (I use them as my characters now).

mee

Here’s a random picture of me when I was young…

Feeling empty…

It’s just one of those days where you feel empty, almost hollow. Like a part of you is missing or is yanked out by the events taking place around you. You’re trying to make sense of everything, but you can’t seem to do that because everything is just mashed together in one big pile. If you try to sort things out that pile will crush you beneath its weight.

In between this mess you’ll only suffocate. So, you leave things as they are in hopes that miraculously things will get better. But they never ever do. And that pile, of all those things you’re trying to ignore, just expands like gas molecules and you’re left wondering where you went wrong. You find so many ‘loopholes’ ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ that your mind starts swirling and the road ahead starts to fade away, and you lose focus. You see nothing but emptiness in a future that was supposed to be as bright as the sun. You see a dead end in a road you fought so hard to take.

I hate having these moments because I always end up confusing myself even more, and I make irrational decisions just to get out of this phase. It temporarily works but I end up drowning myself even more.

I was so lost in my thoughts that today I waited twenty minutes for an elevator before realizing I hadn’t even pressed the buttons. I was so dozed out that I took the wrong train. I crossed a red light and took the wrong exit. Literally.

The feeling drains all the energy out of you. It makes you feel like a useless dried out battery.

Picture from Pexel