Tag Archives: pain

“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.

The Next Morning!

I was glaring at the TV in the dark, my vision unclear, blurred, I hardly knew what channel was switched on and I couldn’t possibly care less. I kept it on, on bearable volume only to feel myself accompanied.

 

I was slouched beside my study table, beside which the balcony door stood ajar, supported by the wall behind. There was the novel kept in front of me, that I was reading but I hardly remembered what was it about. All I could see were the tree leaves wavering outside, and all I could think of was, … wait, I could hardly think straight. No I could think of nothing, simply nothing.

 

I shifted in my seat, making myself more uncomfortable, instead of providing a little comfort. My leg was twisted and I could feel the slightest of pain then. But I did not twitch. I enjoyed the pain for a while, then when I was comfortable again, I simply did it again, bring the pain back, just for the sake of doing it, this time with my hands, and my fingers. My finger nails, digging down in my palms, and yet I could feel nothing; nope, not in a slightest. I guess all the drinks were playing their game then, making me numb. I smiled, and why? I had no idea about that.

 

My phone started buzzing, vibrating, and it was irritating me, the noise, the feeling. I fumbled to take it out of my pocket and cancelled the call. It was my friend. I knew what she would say, “You can talk to me” and I also knew that if I “talked” she would put on her earphones and all the while keep texting or playing some game and in the end she would very easily divert the topic, make it all about herself, and cut the call. I didn’t need that then!! No!!

 

It started vibrating again. My head was so full, it ached so much that I gripped my hair into my hands trying to just tear the pain apart. I just increased my pain. Furiously, I picked up the phone, mumbled something, which I really did not give a thought on and cut the call.

 

I sat there till late in the night. I don’t remember the time; I don’t even remember what exactly I was doing till then, what was I thinking about. All I remember is slowly walking or rather dragging myself towards my bed, and falling off to a deep sleep with the TV turned on.

 

And so I woke up the next morning with the same things I had gone to sleep with, a numbing pain, a throbbing head, and a dizzy mind, and yeah, not to forget the TV turned on.

Death Or Life- What Gives You True Pain?

2018 has not been very compatible to me yet, I guess it doesn’t feel good with me, or it just doesn’t want to make me feel good. Any which ways, I am tortured. 3 months and 3 deaths!! How is that possible? How am I supposed to even live with it? You will say, I have to and I will but it doesn’t at all feel good. None of them were close family members but all of the three people were relatives, one being a friend a distant one, a junior school-mate and yet I do not feel good about it. I feel sad.

Having received death news is never good news, of course it never is but then when you hear about a person’s death that was your age, your friend, you do not know what to do. It cripples your heart.

This friend I am talking about wasn’t my best friend, so I cannot say I am dying inside to hear this, but he was a kind person, a sweet person. I knew his family very well, his sister, his mother, even his dad. All of them are such lovely souls, and yet, I ask, do they really deserve this? Do they deserve the death of a young son, a young and a happy-go-lucky brother? Does that young boy deserve death? I repeat, young, again and again, only to emphasise, the fact that a mere 20 something person died, all of a sudden, leaving behind all his loved ones, shattered and broken.

I feel so depressed, writing about it, even thinking about it, that I cannot even begin to think how and what his family might be going through. I, really cannot say that I understand their pain, no I cannot, and can never until I go through such a loss.

This brings me to a thought, again and again and again. What if something so traumatic happens with me or my family? What if, I have to go through something so disturbing and painful? What will I do? I am losing it completely now, how would I handle anything beyond this?

Death is unpredictable, absolutely uncertain, then how can anyone live with this uncertainty?

And yet, we have to. We have no other alternative. Do we?

They say; time heals everything. But does it? Or does it simply makes you immune, and gives you the patience to live with it?

The selfish human that I am, I am making it all about me, again. I am forgetting, rambling about my agony here, that this, what I am going through now, is simply nothing. It is ‘just’ a fear of losing someone, and the pain of losing a friend, an acquaintance, and in no case it can be compared to what his family might be going through now. I am truly sorry for him and his family. Whatever I write and say here, can in no possible way express what I am feeling right now. I can in no amount of synonyms and adjectives express my feelings. I am so deeply touched that it can be expressed with nothing, with no words.

I cannot even begin to think what his loved ones might be going through now, and honestly I do not have the courage to, too.

William Shakespeare once said, “Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.”

So is it okay, that he is dead? His pain is over, right? But what about the people that he left behind? I ask this here, because, there is a possibility that he committed suicide. I cannot say for sure, we have just heard it. Some said, it was a road accident, and yet others who lived with him have to say that he committed suicide. We don’t know, and we might never know. But does the reason matter?

Does it?

According to Shakespeare, after death, there is no pain, but I guess there is. There definitely is.

I am sorry. I guess I have said enough, only to feel more vulnerable. Today, all I can think about is death, and its consequences. This truly is not making me feel good. (I know I must have repeated this several times, but I honestly don’t feel good.)

To end this post on a cliché dialogue from a full time Bollywood movie (Boss)

Ronit Roy says-“ maut ko to yuhin log badnam karte hai.. asli takleef to zindagi deti hain.”

“People defame death, but true pain and suffering comes from life.” (Okay, I know the English translation might not be that effective.)

And I think, today, I do agree with this dialogue, doesn’t suffering come from life? Once you are dead, you are simply dead. But when you are alive, you are alive, alive with that excruciating pain. And you can do nothing about it.

I am in no position to judge anything here, nor do I want to. But I desperately feel bad for this friend of mine. We may have lost touch, but this news came as a shock.

In a flick, he just passed away, and left behind grief and misery for everyone who knew him.

From the bottom of my heart, I pray that no single person has to go through with the kind of pain that he might have gone through, and that his family must be going through. May all of them find the strength that they truly need in this crucial hour.

And may his kind soul rest in peace.

What Do You Do?

What do you do when something occupies too much of your time, too much of the space in your already overthinking mind?

What do you do when things that happen are absolutely out of your control?

What do you do when there are only negative thoughts, and more destructive thoughts making home in your heart and mind?

Needless to say the first suggestion would be to talk things out, to share your woes and doubts with people who care about you.

You pray and hope, and calm your mind but those little evil people are trapped within you.

Then comes the idea of writing your feelings down, word by word. Writers often tend to this technique to cure the ache.

But you see, when desperation kicks in, you go as far as writing your frame of mind and even burning the sheet down to mere ashes; repeatedly!

What do you do when despite all the efforts, those thoughts and feelings stick with you?

What do you do when your thoughts are absolutely out of control? When those thoughts, pains you like a piercing needle, slowly seeping blood out?

What do you do when you can take no more?

What do you do when nothing helps, and even the thoughts (the fact that it is not happening in reality, it is only a thought and a feeling in my head is significant here) shatter you to the core?

What do you when you can’t face the consequences of those thoughts?

 

The bed box

She was sitting on this dim corner of the cave, very peaceful, not even caring that she had lost her way, and that she was away from the company that she had entered with. The place was unnervingly silent, and the cool setting was a bit too much for her to take. Still, she sat there motionless and tranquil not thinking about the consequences. She knew someone would ultimately find her. She was also aware that subconsciously she wanted no one to discover her, and stay completely lost in her own world, hidden away from everything else.

That is when I woke up, realising that I was sleeping inside the bed box- the extra bed that the hotel provided. With that dream ending unexpectedly I could only hope for someone to come and push the bed box inside the bed and let me just sleep and to know that if she is eventually able to stay away from everything?

Were you not a girl, Mamma?

This is the first article/story I ever wrote which was published during my initial college days and hence it is very dear to me apart from various other reasons. Hope you like it too and is worth your time.

*

Ah! This is such a beautiful sight I am observing. These two girls looking so happy with each other, hand in hand going round in the rose garden, playing with each other totally lost in their enjoyment and devoid of any troubles as it seems.

I feel so happy to see this, to adore such a lovely sight, to imagine that, someday I’ll be there with one of my close friends or my sister or my brother. By the way will I have any brother or sister mamma? Or do I have any who is waiting for me expectantly?

Someday I’ll be there enjoying this austere and beautiful garden of roses where I am planning to play, it’s marvellous appearance and its capturing smell is so, so strong that I wish to be there now. But I think that it’s not good for me at present. For the time I should be here, quiet, and safe inside your womb, mamma. It is too early for me to come out, right?

I desperately wish to see you mamma. I want to see my family, my house where I will be. I want to see this life which everyone wishes to. Though I have heard a lot about the sufferings of the life, I earnestly wish to live it, experience it, and to test my capabilities of experiencing it. I want to have friend’s mamma, I want to have a family. No not one I’ll have two families like you mamma. Someday I’ll also have a husband like you have as my father and after some more days I may also be a mother like you. It seems so interesting but for now this thought is quite early, very early in fact. There are too many years but yet to pass.

I want to study mamma I want to gain knowledge and under your guidance I will hopefully have a good idea of art too. You’ll teach me no mamma?

I feel so obliged to be gifted a life. I feel so special warmth inside me when you touch your womb and with a sensation of care and delight you say “it is so special a feeling my child to have you inside me and it fills me with so much of happiness when I imagine you to call me a mother” I want you to be my friend, philosopher and guide. I want you to guide me throughout my life mamma! I hope you will, I know you will. You are so kind dear!!

But for now may I please request you to go home mamma? The garden is becoming so cold and it is getting very dark too. Please, let us go towards home mamma I am feeling so cold and you must also be feeling so? You must take care of yourself mamma or else granny will scold you! By the way how is granny mamma?

Thank you for proceeding towards home mamma. You are so kind! You are so caring! I love you mamma. I know you will take care of me so tenderly when I come to you, Just as this girl wearing a white dress is looking after you in this ‘WHITE CABIN’ but where are we mamma? This is probably not our house. It is totally white. People here are totally in white. And why are they making you sleep in such a small bed? You need to be comfortable you won’t be at any ease here. You will suffer here, you will be uncomfortable here. Please listen to me or else I’ll complain to granny and she’ll definitely scold you.

See you are already restless! Get up mamma, get up! It is already hurting you.

But now it is hurting me too. What is this mamma? What is happening? What are they doing to you? Why are you crying?

They are hurting me mamma. They are hurting me. It is so painful. Complain! I pray you to complain to them. You are so cruel mamma. I do not want to go mamma. I want to live. I want to see this life.

God!

Forbid…

Stop! Have pity on me.

I want to live mamma. I want to live. I want to come out of you. Why are you hurting me and yourself?

Oh! God! Look! Please!

They are cutting me, my legs, hands, they were so very small. They are thrashing it, smashing it. They are cutting me into pieces mamma. Ah! It’s no more hurting me mamma, it’s paining now. And I am speechless of your act and breathless because of this pain. You have killed me mamma. You have killed me. How could you do this mamma? How could you?

Just because I was a girl you killed me? Is being girl a sin? What did I do or what I would have done to trouble anyone? Why did you not allow me to enter the world? But if this world is such, where people kill their own blood I am lucky enough to not be there with you all.

My life annihilates just within three months but at least it was a peaceful one, not like yours comprising a sin. A sin, to kill an innocent!

I would merely ask you a question mamma I was a girl and you killed me. But were you not a girl mamma? Had you been in my place how would have you felt?

And here I die without making any difference to anyone.

Are girls so useless mamma?