Can you hear that? My heart

Life is slow. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s still. Sometimes you look back and see so much of it has passed in a split second.  When you walk by the road, when you see the gulmohar leaves and yellow light peeking through them. On the traffic lights, or in the arms of three balcony walls, when it’s all so damn still, life passes by. Did you see it just passed by. Did you see the passing by light… did you hear the hush of speed. did you hear the bubbles of turbulence.

Did you hear the calm. did you hear the hum of stagnant. Can you hear that…?

Life skips a beat sometimes. Sometimes it collects an extra one. Steals a moment, selfishly. That moment… the ‘not destined for you’ one. It steals beauty where is finds. It steals love sometimes. Sometimes it gives it all away so generously. Sometimes giving is not generous. It’s selfish. It’s needed sometimes. Craved for. Like a heartbeat. My heartbeat. The only connection to the wild stretch of space.

The only hold… only grip of life. Loosening. Draining. Dizzy. Drowsy. Dampened. My life. My heart…

Life waits sometimes. sometimes it rushes off. It opens itself sometimes. It moves. It travels. A dull but constant journey. You can’t even see when it leaves you behind. like sands between the fingers… it runs off… off the fingers. Off the limits. and other times, it waits. For something. It closes itself to open some time. It holds itself hard and it waits. Keeps waiting. Still. Numb. With a thin wire like breathe.

It’s waiting. It’s still waiting there for you to open…

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Walking away from Mirages

God… I so much wanted to have a post with the title Mirages… since the inception. Only I knew nothing of the message I was trying to convey with the name. Or more like I did not have a message to convey. But that’s past… anyway…

So someone recently told me, not really to me, not in the context, not related even… but told he rightly… When you see a mirage, pause, turn around and walk away.

But I don’t do that. Do I? We don’t do that… we take pleasure in running for a mirage, not finding nothing, getting to see more mirages, running more, dying more, wishing more, writing more, crying more. Ah we! For if there are no mirages there are no stories. Stories are about mirages. Oh they are the best mirages in the world, aren’t they?

Stories are your ‘self’ that doesn’t get to live, the mirage that your inexistent self doesn’t get to find. Stories are mirages that never be, yet you see them, invariably, consistently, faithfully. I love fiction. Fiction that never comes true. Everyone loves that. Don’t you. It’s all in its never coming true that makes it so special. I use to love writing stories as a kid. Though most of them made no sense. They lied somewhere under the beds, tight, waiting to make sense someday.  Only they knew very well all along, they never would make sense. Those are the best kinds. Utopian. So unrealistic that you can’t get drifted from real. You never lose the sense of their being unreal. You never leave the sense of their being a mirage and not even a tiny drop of water.

Oh it’s all sun. Shining sun. and Mirages. And no drops of any waters. Here… in a bunch of old stories in my hand. From under the cushions. It’s all fiction in here, strange unrealistic stories of strange unrealistic people… Karan… Antara… Kabir… Bella… Jon… they don’t exist. They never did. They never would. Other than in here. I Can’t let them go, a part of my heart says. But you let them go, for writings might be, stories might be, but life is not about mirages. In life when you see a mirage, you pause, you turn around and you walk away… silently. For that’s all you could do.

Sadness… How do you find me dear?

I am not having a discussion here… I am not sharing a thought… I am not explaining a logic… I am not solving a problem… I am not in a condition to…

I am asking a question… to you… sadness… how do you find me? So consistent! Without a fail! So efficient! How do you find me? Why are you following me? I don’t hate you… no I don’t… you are a part of life.. And a very important one… without you happiness is meaningless to me… I get all of that… but why so much?

I try to avoid… I try to overlook… I try to find a way out… I try to ignore the little hurts in the way and move on… I try so damn hard not to be sad… I bet my life to figure out smiles… I trade so carefully… every word… every letter… every breath… but why do I fail? So often? Every single time… every single step! I try to be happy at any cost… guilt surrounds me… I try to make people happy at my cost… heartbreaks surround me… I try to fight against the fate… failures surrounds me… and when I surrender it all to you and stand deserted yet smiling in anticipation of dreams… hopes ditch me… all your forms… all your faces… all on your side… none on mine. Nothing on my side.

Sometimes I tend to believe that even happiness is on your side… it dumps me to flirt with you… it stands by your side… enchanting like a mirage… and stupid and selfish I run for it… to fall for you. But amazing it is… how you… with all the powers in your hands… with flirtatiously beautiful success by your side… with  fates at your feet… await on me… looking awkwardly… ugly and dump… with pain of refusal in your eyes… you still wait on me…

Why do you wait on me? Why you can’t stand me not being with you? Why, when the whole world leaves me alone… you don’t? why you are so much inside me? Why can’t I just run away from you? For once! Can you just be by yourself? Please! I have tried everything… I have tried every single place… how do keep finding me?

You love me… don’t know? Will you do me this one favor… please! For once… will you please find me a place where you can’t find me? Will you please let me run away from you dear… please!!!