Category Archives: Human Nature

Forgetting To Live.

When I was young, like a very small kid, I wanted to grow old, not like my grandma or grandpa old, but old like my elder brother. So that I could have the chances which he had, so that I could do what he could do.

Then when I thought I was like my brother, how old he used to be, then I wanted to grow older than him, so that I could live how he lived, without anyone bossing over me.

When I was really old, like you know the recent adult? I wanted to become someone who was stable, with a proper job, and all that, you know.

Then, I was old, like you know who had a job, and a little money, and something, and then I wanted to have a family of my own. I wanted to be the one whom I saw on the street the other day, the one with a husband, and two cute little children.

When I was the one with the cute little children, I wanted to be the one that I saw from across my house, you know the old lady cribbing at her old man, for not doing something, for not understanding her, and yet how you could tell that they had grown old together.

Then when I was that old lady, I wanted yet something else. I wanted to be the free individual who lived next door, so that I could travel like him.

And then I wanted something else too…..

 

My point being, all our lives we keep wanting things. We want, and we want. We are never satisfied, ad we never will be. May be, we want something and we get it, and then we don’t want it anymore. May be we do get it and now we want something else. We keep pining for things we don’t have, never relishing what we actually have. We keep trying to push ourselves to get more, not realizing that in the process we are losing what we have.

We keep wanting to live in a way, never realizing that we are forgetting to actually live in the life that we are supposed to be living.

 

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A Writer Without Words!

Today, they introduced me as a writer, and honestly, I did not see that coming. People keep telling me, that I am a writer, but there is some part of me that still does not believe that.

Anyways so there I was being introduced as a writer, and then the irony struck me. The very same morning I was struggling with words to describe what I was feeling, and I failed. Then I tried completing my assignments, failed! And then I started working on a fictional plot, at which I failed again.

I am not talking about the writers’ block, I kept writing, I kept taking notes, I kept typing, but I was not satisfied with it, I still felt that the feelings were unclear, and what I was saying were mere words. But if they were words, then why was I feeling the absence of emotions. And if I had words, then was I not a writer after all? But then only putting words isn’t a writers job, his job is to bring even fiction to reality. So where was I going wrong?

I had words, but still I felt I was not a writer.

On second thoughts, I felt I did not even have the words, all I had was the feeling, the love, the hatred, required for being a writer. The words that I say I wrote, were not mine, they did not justify how I felt, how I wanted things to come out, they simply did a job of being portrayed as a writer’s work. They were just there on paper.

So now, I did not even have words, and yet I was a writer?

 

The Special Bond.

The bond that we share

Is really very special,

It is the warmth, the love, the care,

That exceeds all level.

 

Your unshared, unconditional love

Has still, never been enough,

The humane wish of always wanting more,

Has left me without you; hollow to the core.

 

I replay in my mind

The unintentional, inconsequential fights.

I laugh aloud,

With tears in my eyes.

 

Do you remember the reason of our squabbles?

I, for one can remember no such troubles.

All the memories that rushes through,

Pictures our happiness true.

 

Sweet savourings shared together,

Has not reached me this un-fateful year.

Would you have missed me today?

What a wrong question I have come to say.

 

It isn’t just sad

That this Rakhi, I am not with you,

Don’t get mad,

But I am still happy for you.

 

We have never settled

Not on a single thing,

But the love inclines,

That keeps us always stringed.
This may be a new endeavor

But my dear, always remember,

The bond that we share,

Is really very special,

It is the warmth, the love, the care,

That exceeds all level.

*

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A little something, something very naive and simple,  for my precious brother who is not with me on this special occasion of ‘Raksha Bandhan’

I don’t say it, and I won’t say it, but you must know, that I do love you.

I will kick you, I will fight with you, and I will also love you but that is only my right. If someone else even tries to hurt you, he/she will have to pay for it!! I mean it!!

*

Originally posted on August 7th, 2018.

Helpless.

I feel helpless today.

So helpless,

As helpless as I haven’t felt in a long time.

As helpless, as I think I can never feel.

The epitome of helplessness.

And yet, I feel this can go on,

On and on for quite a while.

And yet I feel that I can feel even more helpless.

But what could be more than this, I wonder?

Because, this what I feel today, is beyond my ways of expressions.

This what I feel today is beyond my perception,

This is beyond me.

And yet I know not, what to do. And yet I know not how much more helpless can I feel.

Because this feels more than enough,

More than what I thought I could take.

 

I thought I am doing my best

But even the best seems less than the best.

Nothing seems to be working,

Everything keeps coming,

And I feel helpless.

 

I thought I could take it,

I thought I could do something,

But now, depite all the efforts,

I feel helpless.

 

I feel as helpless as I would have felt in

Drowning into that ocean,

Without knowing how to swim.

Differences Among Religions!

People often discuss religion, and the first thing that they’d discuss or very proudly announce is, “We are of ‘this’ religion” or “Our religion is different”. Basically they are more often than not heard or seen discussing the differences between their religions. What amuses me though, is somehow I always see or look into the similarities, and then I end up wondering, what exactly are the differences, cause I don’t see any.

Of course and every time I say this out aloud, people tend to give me weird looks, which might say “Are you insane?” or making me sound absolutely unacceptable. And the very loud mouth that I have, I go on and on about this where I feel, I should speak up. But often this has leaded to heated arguments (Just as it happens with me when discussing issues relating women), even among families and friends. So, I have stopped speaking my mind, and I speak only when I think I can take no longer of this argument, which I am so much against of. Again, this happens more often than I would want it to.

But, I can’t help it. I just can’t resist myself. And the more I speak up, the more I realize, that you can’t make someone understand anything, unless he or she is willing to understand it. You can teach someone algebra or mean median, mode, or anything else for that matter, but he will understand it only if he is willing to understand the basics of it. Without his willingness to open the doors of his mind, nothing is going to happen.

I have come to learn this the hard way. And yet, I try and try to talk people into accepting things, which I think are right. And seldom do people change how they think about the issue.

Coming back to religion, what bothers me today is ‘these people’ talk about the differences, but most of them do believe in the concept of Hell and Heaven. Having said this, I think I can safely say this is the case with most religions. Then should this not be it? I mean if you think you believe in Hell or heaven, and that your Karma decides where you are going to end up, then should that not be enough to make you behave in a manner, justified; to not let you mistreat and differentiate among religions?

PS: This is just a thought. I don’t mean to annoy anyone with my thoughts, cause neither do I own so much knowledge of religion, nor do I know most of the times, what I am speaking about.

PS (Sorry, I got something more): If you ask me I’d rather follow Humanity as a religion and try and be a better person, not just to myself but towards every person, with or without any differences.

The Problem Of Calling It ‘A Problem’.

The situation usually one deals with is that where, as a human, you create a problem, then worry over it, then scale the said problem, then you work it out and then finally you get it done with. The problem is then forgotten, learnt from and in the distant past soon. That is the usual plan, right, when it comes to dealing with your problems in life, big or small?

But off late I have been acquainted with another problem, or should I say a problem of looking at this problem matter? Very recently I have been analysing it differently. Yes, we all have problems, I get it. No one’s life is a cake-walk. But now I know there could be another situation too, another very raw way to look at the said problems. In this second situation, as a human you create problems, then worry over it, then scale it with all your other problems, weight the importance of this problem, and then before even solving it, you scale your problems with someone else’s problems, then you realise that your problem may not be of even a little worth in comparison to the other persons’. Then guilt pricks you, gnaws at you, crawls all over you, to even think about your problem as a problem. Then, that guilt becomes your problem, for even thinking that you had a problem when all this while other people have real important matters to look into. And finally, with that guilt, comes back your first problem, and you start wondering how do you even define this problem as a problem? You want to let it go, without calling it a crisis, but it knock you back down and doesn’t let you get up until you call it with its previous name, ‘the problem’.

So the second situation has two problems, and no solution? The guilt keeps haunting you, and then somehow you just move on? You have no solution because, solutions are meant for problems, but you constantly reject the idea of it being called a problem. How can you? You have seen worst and now you want to fuss over your little princess problems? But unless you try and get it done with you just have to keep dealing with the problems….

I have no idea what I have written above here. But honestly, if you get me, what can a person possibly do in such a situation?

“They”

 

They say

I didn’t fight enough

They don’t know

How my body aches

How my body has

Lost the feeling to

Feel the pain.

 

They say

I didn’t raise my voice enough

They don’t know

How my throat itches

How my voice has

Completely lost the feeling to

Feel the voice.

 

They say

I did not repulse

I did not revolt

They say the fault

Is mine.

 

I can’t blame anyone

They say

That I was wrong

And they were right

They were strong

And I was weak.

 

They say

My demeanor should be composed

My anger should be subsumed

They say

It is not a big thing

It is just a passing fling.

 

They say

I am the devil

I am my own fall

They say

I am the ill

I am the cause.

 

They say

I didn’t fight enough

They say

I didn’t raise my voice enough

They don’t know

My lungs gave way

Screaming into void

They don’t know

That my armor

Rests in peace

Fighting for my life.

Yet they say

I didn’t revolt

Yet they say

I was wrong and they

Were strong

They don’t know

That my blood

Distanced itself from my heart

They don’t know

That my soul embittered

On my body.

 

These “they”

Who are they?

Who are they

To make me the evil

Who are they

To judge me

For being the devil?

 

They don’t know me

Let alone my soul

They can’t judge me

Unless they can tell me

That they have fought

More than me

That they have

Screamed

Longer than me.

 

They don’t know me

They don’t know my battle

And yet,

“They” say….

 

*

I still refrain to even believe in my rarest imaginations that I am anywhere near being a poet, despite all your comments on my previous posts. So, again I call this a vain attempt to try and write in as limited words as possible, and to express as far and as truthfully I can.