Scared, Scarred – My Little Heart!

Scared and scarred..

My grown up, all adult, 22 years and 8 months old HEART!!

You are no kid

You started work when I didn’t even exist

You never skip a beat

That’s why I am not yet, dead meat

You keep my blood running

Through the thick and thin, admist the cold breeze and hot sun burning

You take a straight blow, of my anxiety, my high and my lows

How many times you have endured the pain?

How many times I have driven you insane?

In the road of life came all those bumps

You lead me through them as you pumped!

You are a good pal and just so you know 

I admire every fill you jug out as you go!

You think you are tiny timid and old 

But you are also strong and oh so bold !

You might be confused, dis oriented and fast 

But I am glad we will be together till my breath lasts!


She wrote that I mentally tortured her…

She has written that it was the worst mistake in the history of her life to become friends with me. I caused her damage and mental trauma. My first reaction after reading was momentary breakdown. Second was anger. Third was torn in disappointment. She has blamed me for everything that has ever went wrong in her life is last two years. All I did was didn’t sympathize. I didn’t because it was matter of principle. I am pro altruism but as a medical student I knew it was professionally wrong to take matters in my own hands. 

When you do something nice to someone and they don’t acknowledge it, you feel a little underappreciated but you don’t mind. You tell yourself it is okay. You tell yourself that you did not do the good thing for credit. You did if because you are trying to be a better person. That’s one thing. Another thing is when you do something nice to someone and they don’t acknowledge it but they don’t stop right there. They turn on you and blame the disaster that their life has become on you. Now that stings! I am sure it happens often to many people. I watch this in lot of movie plots. But it was my first time. I actually had a moment of self doubt. I actually thought about what a terrible person I might be. I actually had to talk to people about and begged for an honest answer. Am I a monster as a person? That’s how pathetic she made me feel for couple of moments.

I think it was universe’s way of teaching me that you are only as much bad as you allow yourself to feel so. Its all about your reaction. Any accusation is only valued when it is validated by the one who gets accused. She blamed me for her misery and by feeling hurt from it I validated her blame. I took it upon myself. I am not a very self confident person neither do I have a very high self esteem but still I know enough about myself to don’t let it grow upon me. Me or no one else can have any hand in the wrong choices she made. No matter how much people try to put blame on others, they have to suffer with the consequences themselves. I know I haven’t wronged anyone and I pray for her. I pray that her sufferings reduce and she can have happiness she deserves. I pray that it dawns upon her that blaming others won’t help her cause. 

I envy silent people!
I envy silent people! I envy them so much that I fall in love with them. Then I hate it because I admire them more than I admire myself and my person doesn’t like that. It doesn’t just end there. I then want to become the person I envy and admire so that I can love myself. Basically I want to love myself more but I am choosy even with that. That’s how I torture myself. That’s where my misery come from. That’s where the circle of suffering starts to rotate. That’s the ‘ori’ of my painful existence. 

Why silent people? Because silence says more that words ever could. Silence is ful of stories and surprises. Not knowing itself is enough to make us curious enough to know. To find out. To look for. Silence is mystery novel but in real life. You turn the page as you ask question and just like a good writer an expert silent person won’t give it away. They build the suspense. It kills me when they do that. They don’t know what they do to me but its gets to me so bad that I sometimes feel like ripping their hearts out and see. Mystery sells. So are mysterious people. So are mystery books. So are mystery movies. Silence is the three dimensional existence of mystery. Silence will irritate you, make you suffer, agitate you to level of disgust but won’t bore you. I get bore easy. Maybe that’s why silent is my type. 

Silence is trillion times more interesting that any gossip in the world. Silent people let you explore your imagination. They give you a chance to feel useful. They let you contribute to the story. Gossip is bland rice and silence is the lamb biriyani to an American who never had the Asian food. The spices to his virgin senses is what is silence to a curious soul. Painful but full of exotic possibilities! Silence indulges. It makes you to participate. It makes you crave for more. It makes you feel important. Makes you feel alive!

Silent people represent peace. This is the most important reason for me to envy such people. How the hell they keep their train of thoughts from entering the rails of their mouth? Are they still in mind? If yes, then how do they do that? Should I ask? Would they tell? The quietness kills me. I want that stillness. I am working hard but I seem to get no where and here are these silent people sitting quietly in front of me putting this invisible pressure on me, making me feel like it is my responsibilities to make sound because I am the one without the peace and I have no right to even fake it. No right to fake it because that’s how bad I want it. 

Imperfect Reflection!

I am walking with myself around 
I am feeling my presence surround 

Sometimes I hear myself sound

And I sound strong 

At times I see myself making a choice 

And I am not wrong 

A day before I took a step without looking down 

And I didn’t fall 

Long time ago I stood up for myself 

And boy! I stood up tall 

I have seen my self doing this all 

I see me under the spot light 

I see me as a superstar 

I see myself everyday sitting next to me 

Walking next to me, sleeping next to me 

Breathing next to me, living next to me 

In the universe next to this one

In the life next to mine

But in this world, right here 

I am my own reflection 

Its pity that I will blame the mirror 

For my imperfections 

I haven’t embraced them at all

Because I live next to myself who has it all 

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