A Soliloquy

A cry for help went unnoticed, uncared for, ignored. 

Parted lips, but no words came out. 

Craved silence inside, but it was right in front of me.

Unspoken words screamed.

Yes, silence is loud.

Unknown breaths can feel surprisingly warm.

I think I have had more conversations with myself than I have ever had with anyone else. My high school teachers were right, I do talk a lot. Spending time with myself is easy for me but lately hasn't been. Sometimes I behave like I'm doing a soliloquy in some movie, or book; my eyes become the camera's frame. The world of imagination and aesthetics pulls me to be a romantic. They say, one shouldn't dwell on sadness or brood for too long; well then how long before we get pulled right into that whirlpool from where there is no return?

Floating on the surface of the sea, as blue as lapis lazuli, the cold water feeling like a chill cushion on the back of the head, I can feel the sunrays on my face. Calm, and just in time. If I could be so right now, I would chose to drown. For everything means so little now.

It is strange how lonely it can feel in the absence of someone even though so many others could be listening to you.

For, even if I had the world to talk to, maybe I would still choose

A Soliloquy.

Creatively Handicapped

 It is the 7th of March, 2021, and I am reconnecting with my abandoned blog, with some clay facemask on, on a warm Sunday afternoon. Let me be honest with my readers, I did abandon this page, mostly because I got busy every time I thought of writing something, but also because I was not sure of my writing skills anymore. Being busy- sounds like an excuse right? You are probably right. We make time for things we want to do, but does that make other things less important? I am not sure, hence today I will try to write about why I haven't written much lately.

 Initially, I was just lazy, so I ended up procrastinating a lot of my time. Hence, quite a few times I did think of writing, even had the thoughts lined up, but did not type it out. The lockdown was harsh on everyone, in some way or the other, and while it did make some of us accidentally creative, some others had a hard time extracting their creative ideas, unlike before. Like many others, I also journaled my thoughts sometimes, but that became irregular too. I used to write about my experiences, my thoughts, my worries and also about some happy times but soon my journal became a hideout for me. It became like a treasure chest of anything I could not or did not talk to my friends about. Less good times and more bad times were recorded in my confidante. As a result, whenever I flipped through the pages, hoping to chance upon some old forgotten memory, instead of feeling the warmth of nostalgia, all I felt was hurt. Reading about the depressed portions, made me go through the hurt and angst all over again. I was not ready for that. Soon, I stopped journaling. Once the flow was gone, I could not help it either.

Meanwhile college began. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Being in the same virtual environment with so many other creative people did inspire me and although the first semester was crazy, I did produce a lot of good quality artworks but then semester break made me realize how exhausted I was. So, I took some time off, focused on some other things and started spending more time with my friends. But now, after one and a half months of being into second semester, and still not being where I should be, I am worried. Is it a creative block? Is it my procrastination? Am I having a crisis where I am just unable to create something worthwhile? Or do I have expectations from myself which have become too high to accomplish every time? I do not know.

I might be getting a bit impatient soon, because one cannot survive design college with such kind of a haze. Everyone needs a break right? I have had mine; only to be unable to reinforce myself back to the tragedy that is online college. Although, I am having a good time otherwise, making new memories with each passing day, making new friends too. 

Today I made the effort of writing something: progress, is it? Maybe tomorrow I will be able to create something better. But until tomorrow comes, I shall call myself: Creatively Handicapped.

Take Me Back

I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Take me back to the night we met.

     -these are lyrics from a song by Lord Huron and I'd like to relate this with my older self. Another year went by, marking the end of a decade, and today, on the last day of 2019 I'd like to reflect on the recent past.

This year has been quite a significant year if we look back at the events that took place: starting from India's first openly gay athlete Dutee Chand to having the first images of the black hole being taken. The list of events is long and so I shall not talk about each and every one of them.

The last day of a year means feeling a bit tad nostalgic. And I can't help it. A decade gone by and all I feel right now, at this moment, is happiness, gratitude and content. Tomorrow is unknown and I can do little but hope and little hope goes a long way. I was a completely different person  when this year began; anxious, stressed, and unstable. But now, I've evolved. I have become a better person (no the stress hasn't left me, relax), I have become more thoughtful, considerate, kind, adjusting and sensitive towards other people and I am thankful for all of those. This year did not begin well, but it is ending well. And most importantly I am happy.

Enough about me. Why did I speak so much about my self-improvement? Because I want you to reminisce over the past days and look how far you have come. You may not be where you wanted to be, but you have made progress and some progress is always better than no progress at all. Give some credit to yourself and try to be happy.

I still do not know why I decided to write such useless rant on year-end; I guess I just wanted to write something on the last day of the decade.

I would end it with Take Me Back, but no, I think I am just fine where I am.

Grey

Sometimes it is not either black or white; sometimes it is grey.

We come across a zillion situations in our life and each of them is unique. We tend to compare situations: be it with somebody else with a similar problem or somebody else with a similar past situation. But, while doing this we often forget that comparing people or situations does not solve the problem, but sometimes it may belittle the current situation you are dealing with. 

We talk about life imprisonment and death sentence like they're our neighbours and we're gossiping about them. While discussing the same, some might say that killing a person is immoral and that life imprisonment kills you gradually, but if so, then aren't both becoming similar? Comparable? No. Because sometimes it is not either black or white; sometimes it is grey. Not every answer can be answered in yes or no, some are neither.

The example I just gave was a serious one. Let us take instances from our daily life. Remember that friend whose personal life you were keenly interested in? That friend who seemingly had the perfect partner and everybody thought that they were "dating"? Let us talk about that. Neither of them accepted that they were "dating" and neither of the two could explain their current situation to their friends. So we just assumed that they were the "perfect power couple " and compared our personal lives with theirs and ended up being sad for the next two hours.

How many of us will readily accept that at some point of our lives we have done this? So, the answer to all of those questions is: First, stop comparing. Second, stop assuming things you know nothing about. Third, cut yourself some slack, you'll be fine too. The reason why the aforementioned partners cannot explain their 'lovelife' to others is maybe because it's not that simple; every relationship does not have a tag and neither does it need one. If you have clarity in your thoughts and no doubts in your mind, then how does it matter what you say to others about your personal life? Because sometimes it is not a friends-or-lovers situation. You may share a bond with someone which is too special and unique to be given a staple name. That just reminded me of the hundred words that our generation has for describing various kinds of relationships and you may think that those 'terms' simplify things but no, they only complicate things in the long run.

So, what I wanted to say is that, everytime you need not choose between two solid options. It is not always East or West; it can be a fusion too. So, if you don't know whether it is black or white, choose

Grey.

Afternoons

This afternoon I'm listening to La Vie en Rose, yesterday afternoon I was daydreaming about good times. Who knows what I'll be doing tomorrow afternoon. Let this sink in.

Right now I'm feeling at peace; at peace with myself and I am content. I am content about this moment, about what and who I have in my life. I do not know what life holds in store for me in future, though I am always apprehensive about it. I am ready to accept whatever comes at this moment. Tomorrow I have an exam to take but I am not stressed about it right at this moment. This is a very rare moment, when I'm this calm. Let me enjoy this, live this moment. 

Calm. Serene. Peace. Content. Soulful. Beautiful.

She is free, she is shy. She is confident, yet she is insecure. She doesn't know how special she is, she thinks she is regular. She is precious. She thinks and cares about everyone close to her, but forgets to care about her own self. She treats people like they are gold, but she doesn't know that she is diamond. Not an ordinary diamond, but a rare blue diamond set amongst white diamonds, strung together by deep sea pearls. She doesn't know what she is worth. She doesn't know how powerful she is. Cut at the perfect edges, shining, reflecting beauty everywhere. But she just does not realise.

She is beautiful. 

I'm not trying to make a point here, I'm just writing out, expressing my feelings, and I believe we should do that from time to time.

To more such afternoons...

On Your Own

Buckle up, because you are on your own.

Since the last few days I was going through a bad time. My anxiety had fired up, I had breakdowns at school, at home. I worried about petty things, and behaved and thought like a paranoid person. I questioned my behaviour, got no answers. I slept more, was tired most of the time from all of that thinking. I had frequent head aches, fatiqueness. I am better today. 

Yesterday I had a talk with a person, a teacher, who, I was sure, could help me out. Well, she did. It is obvious that I broke down in front of her as soon as I began speaking of my issues. She told quite a few important things to me and some of them should be noted down, really.

•  Be your own favourite.
•  Focus on what you like, but don't pressurise yourself.
•  Don't be too harsh on yourself. Lower down your expectations. 
•  It is okay to be average.
•  Focus on your own art, does not matter whether people like what you create. Be an artist for your own self.
•  You have get yourself out of your complexities because only you can do that.
•  Don't stress about it too much because all of this anxiety will make no sense when you look back upon this time a few years from now.

I know that these are very obvious things that probably most of us know already. I read such motivational stuff all the time and I knew these before yesterday too, but trust me it felt so much better when someone said it out loud enough for me to 'listen'. 

So, be selfish. Focus on your own good. Because you can love others only when you love yourself enough. 

'Solo ride till I die, because I have got myself for life'.

Be on your own, you'll be happy.

🌼

Things

What do you do when you don't have a beautiful present? When you overthink, stressing your mind out? You dwell on memories.

Being a person who overthinks and is told repeatedly not to think so much, I spend a considerable amount of time procrastinating. Memories are important to me just like they are to any other person. But, I dwell on them, and feel nostalgic. Nostalgia makes your past look more glorious than it actually is; nostalgia exaggerates. It makes my happy times seem excessively exuberant and my sad times mournful. Such memories make me happy and they make me sad. They make me cry and they make me smile unconsciously.

Every person who knows you has a different image of you; different perspectives, different perceptions. In the same way you do too. You have an image of every person you meet and that image may or may not resemble the person in reality and you might end up liking that image more than the real person.

Just keep your eyes open, that is all.

(What I began with and what I ended with have so little resemblance (sighs). Bye for now).