a tribute to home...

What is it about this place we call home? What is it that a mere slur against the very name makes our blood boil… The place where many of us were born and many of us spent more than half our lives….what is it that a mere song or a tale brings back rushing moments of the joys and sorrows we felt?

Our escapades, our near scrapes with the authorities…the overnights, the walks along the airport road…the memories of meeting in Lulu centre…Annual day and Khareef festival—the highlights of the year…the numerous picnics, the field trips….the Jabals, the camels…bus rides…sports day… the choir!!

Yet, we yearned for our freedom, from the oppressive environment, and yet the heart craves to go back to the place where we once “were.”

A photograph, a place, a person brings back so many memories that tears well up and we ache to return home, return to the place where we first learnt to walk, where we made our first friends, where we made our best friends, where we discovered our talents, a place where we lost the people dearest to us, where we found the people dearest to us….

The bonds we created there were the strongest ever…people who dint matter then have become so much more important to us today…a random person from school adds us on FB and we immediately accept, an attempt to move closer to where our heart is…

Salalah, the heart of Oman, the oasis in the desert, our home… has become our haven, a place to heal, to recuperate, to bask in the memories of our childhood, to go back to the time when life was innocent and childlike, when we dreamt of bigger things, bigger places….we’ve reached where we wanted to…but our heart is still stuck where it was…

Some may call it a fool’s paradise, which practically speaking, it may be, but I’d (and many of us) rather be a fool than let go of my home…

Catharsis...Part 2

I'm so bored... m home alone...and normally I'm most comfortable being with myself .... but i guess the only thing i can blame this restlessness on is the fact that I'm no more used to being alone for so long, and its getting to me.. to top it all, all my friends are busy and m not keeping too well... so now I've become bitchy and cranky and taking it out on people who cant help it... Im not liking my self right now :(

there is so much i can do but Im either too tired or too lazy... feeling sick being home all day... not used to it.. its high time i went out... not now obviously given that its 1230 am. this has to be one of the most boring Sundays of my life for sure.....

Catharsis...Part 1

There are times when I just feel like writing whatever comes to my mind….I mean if I actually record whatever I think in the entire day, each day would fill a book. Sometimes I wonder at the capacity of my mind to think so much. There are times when the feelings, so closely connected with my thought stream, overwhelm me to such an extent that I actually want to vent out. I feel like writing, verbatim, what I’m thinking, but it just never comes out right. So frustrating

We’ve been having continuous counseling lectures ever since our third semester ended. In a way they’ve been a learning experience, especially as far as the practical aspect is concerned. And I realized that somewhere just talking to a third person about any problem in life, and being accepted and attended to wholly, makes me feel so much lighter. I don’t remember when introspection became a big part of my life, but I know that there are times when I’m feeling very uncomfortable and wonder why, and then I introspect, peer into my mind and try to detect whatever is disturbing me. Off late, I’ve come to realize that I haven’t really had a very happy childhood. Somewhere I feel I just “was.” If you ask me what I remember most vividly about childhood, I wouldn’t have a thing to say. Coz somewhere I really don’t remember anything significant. As I’m writing this, a million memories come to mind, but somewhere I don’t feel satisfied that any of these are THE one.

I’ve realized that I tend to be extremely self critical. I feel that most things I think or feel aren’t right, but then it’s ok as long as I don’t act upon or express those feelings. But somewhere, another chord strikes in my mind, where I feel that maybe its normal to feel this way, maybe others think in the same manner, and like me, don’t express it. Its weird, but its true.

If I were to describe myself, I’d say I’m a person who seems very cool, calm, and confident on the outside, but somewhere inside, I’m a lost little girl. I’m not perfect, nor am I a very imperfect person. There are extremely nasty sides to me that I always curb because I know that thinking or acting in those ways are not correct. Somehow I feel that I have begun to analyze myself and discover my true self more, and u know what?? I’m not liking it. I don’t like who I am on the inside. Hey, I’m not ALL bad. I do have good qualities: I can love and give and care, I am a loyal friend, helpful, Independent, responsible… I have talents, I’m fairly intelligent.

Somewhere it crosses my mind that maybe, just maybe, I expect too much from myself. That I’m so intent on being the perfect person that I expect to be, that I forget to concentrate on the real me. There is a therapy in psychology wherein it is important to be able to strike a balance between the real and the ideal self. Somewhere I think that I need to do that. Bring what I am to people closer to what I feel I actually am….

sacrifice...

She walked with a quiet determination

Her fair feet kicking up the dust

The golden bells at her ankles tinkling cheerfully

Reverberating in the silence surrounding her

Slowly, she stepped on to the hot embers

Her soft flesh burning

Not once did she wince

Not once did she cry out

Her silent spectator—a mere distance away—looked on

And she looked at him, a fire in her eyes

A triumphant look

Quickly replaced by profound sadness

The fire licked at her body

But not one inch of her burned

She was a flaming goddess

Enveloped in the golden red flames

The time was up

Slowly and steadily, with an unwavering look

She stepped down and walked towards him

Her blistered feet silently sifting the dust

He held out his hand, she walked past him

Her agnipariksha—symbol of love and devotion

was over

Her sacrifice was made….

she...

Her white hair is a halo around her face,

Her face a mass of creases

Her eyes shining bright, she looks at me

As though her piercing glance can see what I’m feeling

Her shrivelled hands tremble as they touch my face

It’s been long since I met her,

Yet it feels like just yesterday

The light around her is white, blinding

She looks so serene, at peace with herself

The love in her eyes as she looks at me—immeasurable

And as I watch her coming closer

Her shriveled frame surprisingly graceful,

I feel as if I’m looking at myself,

A mirror image of what I may be tomorrow

Disclaimer: the two posts below, i dont believe are the best of my work--whatever little there is of it--however, i had this need to vent and write, and my feelings have come out the best that they can...the "feelings" post is very private, very personal...those who know me can understand--i hope...yet, i must confess that this is a raw form of my emotions--no farce, no facade..just me.

feelings....

I’m struggling with my feelings,

I don’t know what it is… a desperate melancholy, emptiness, maybe hope??

There’s the rock and the hard place, and then there’s me, stuck in between

And no matter how much I try, I’m probably going to die of claustrophobia…

So many feelings, so many thoughts, so many memories surround me,

The ink on the paper spreads, creating a pattern of swirling emotions,

I wanna laugh, I wanna cry, I wanna feel like never before,

I wanna dance, swirl in his arms, where there is just me and him…

There is so much I want, yet so much that comes with it that I don’t…

What is higher? My identity, my pride, the perceptions I have created through these years?? Or is all that matters just me and him??

But then, just me and him, is not all that matters to him…is it??

Is this even about us?? Is this just a fantasy of being in love, sharing intimate moments?

Or is it true love?? The thing that people live their entire lives to search for…

That movies and novels describe,

But these past 4 years have taught me so much more…

i can love, i have found love, and i believe in it... but is it enough??

Where does it all end? Where do I come to a standstill and choose?

A choice that will affect us all, whether it’s for the good or the bad…

But the emotions remain, my feelings still swirling in the pit of my stomach,

And I can’t think, I can only feel…

Maybe ill wish on a shooting star or ill kneel down and bend my head in penance at the altar

Or ill talk to God one on one

Till then, I can only feel…

these are places, familiar places...my dearest memories were made here.

the rain is lashing at the pavement, the wind creating havoc with the trees...

people hurrying past to escape the stinging water drops and rickshaws spraying them with the mucky Mumbai rain...

and I, a mere spectator, look back...to another day, another time, another moment...

when the air resounded with our playful banter, gleeful laughter, us taking delight in each other's presence... a mere look, a touch...

the pavements are still there, so are the trees...the people are still rushing by.

yet i stand still, a solitary figure, a victim of time, in the torrential rain--alone and incomplete.

Epitome of Cynicism... and Lessons Learned.

So im trying to get it out...Here goes:

My Ten Commandments

• Listen to your intuition-- it is always right.

• Understand that love is overrated-- it is never like in the movies.

• Realise that noone will understand what you are going through, not even if they have gone through it themselves-- the experiences are always different.

• Don't think that love overcomes everything-- you need to be on the same wavelength.

• Don't depend on anyone wholly-- they always keep themselves happy first-- and so do you!

• Marriage is not the perfect end to love-- its just the beginner's course to test your love.

• Always be there for your family-- they are the only ones who you can love unconditionally-- God's rule.

• Don't care about society and what it says-- it is there to gab and gossip. It is your life; do what you feel is right.

• Never hope-- I know, if it were not for hope, the heart would break-- but it breaks anyway, hoping just makes it worse.

• Always believe in yourself-- no specific God, no religion-- believe that you know the difference between right and wrong, good and bad; make that your religion and that your God. You are what you make of yourself...

the fall...

She stood with bated breath, peering into the yawning gorge of darkness.

Determined, she turned her back on the precipice.

The wind played truant with her hair; and her heart, with her.

She closed her eyes; her keen ears drinking in the sounds around her.

A bird calling, the soft whisper of the trees, and most of all, the loud silence

The beating of her own heart, a bee buzzing nearby--life all around her.

She closed her mind, and taking a deep breath,

With her arms wide open, she took the final plunge

Into the black depths of nothingness...

Empty...

An empty room, a bookshelf filled with dust

Billowing curtains, crumpled sheets, a slept-in-bed

A breeze rustling dead leaves on the floor, the dust swirling

The sunlight streaming through the cracked glass

Old love letters—tear streaked and well-worn

Dried rose petals, cracked photo frames

A chair rocking alone in the breeze

A shattered mirror, a book--its yellowed pages fluttering

Wisps of memories surrounding the room

Footprints in the dust, walking out the door....

Update on desires contd...

accomplished my dream of learning pottery...joined a workshop this summer, and enjoyed it!! love the wheel and love the feel of making something outta muck! hehe..not very into the hand moulding, but would love to continue with the pots!!!
Next in line...swimming!!

A letter...

I look at you from across the room and see you gazing at me with intensity. And I wonder what’s going on in your mind. I ask you with my eyes and you reply “nothing.” But I know that there is something— maybe it’s love, maybe even hope, or perhaps regret at losing what we had. Or maybe just freedom from having to make any more decisions or compromises. I know the whirling emotions, the complex mess— I feel them too. I look at our friends, dating, married. And I feel sad, sad that we had the chance and we lost it. For whatever reason...I used to believe that we shared something special, something cherishable, but maybe I’m not wrong and its just not meant to be…

I try to detach, but I just come closer; I try to be indifferent, but become all the more involved. But maybe that’s the way it’s got to be—complex, crazy, and something of a nameless friendship…..

the path...

I watched the moon dance between the clouds...some kind of ritual i suppose. Or maybe she was playing hide n seek...the clouds, white like ominous spirits, covered the moon and her light...but suddenly a spotlight, as though coming on for a performer, was lit and dazzled the ocean. Bit by bit, the spirits moved away and bit by bit, the light found its path and created one for me-the biblical walk on water came to my mind. And all i wanted to do was walk that silvery path on water, embraced by angels, toward the unknown, toward heaven....

Roles...

Few of the most enlightening moments occur in the loo. Believe it or not!!
—Shanti

Okay nothing very enlightening, but I was just wondering, as I was answering nature’s call, about the many roles that I have been playing and still play…and the many roles I have begun to play since the past few years. In simple English, let me define who I am according to my roles in society. (and now I start sounding like a sociology text book)

A woman—free, independent, liberal…a daughter—responsible, loving, helpless, concerned…a sister—concerned, hopeful…a friend—giving, listening, helping, enjoying…a teacher—teaching (obviously), learning, scolding, being patient…a student—learning, always running late, passionate about psychology…a lover (or rather used to be)—giving, taking, sharing, caring, loving, hoping…a listener—just listening, empathizing, talking, communicating…an editor—hacking people’s hard work and supplementing them with my own, enhancing, correcting, beautifying…a colleague—shy, quiet, friendly…an employee—always running late, conscientious…a teenager—rebelling, rebelling…against society, mom, life!...a child—wishing for the return of innocence, carefree life, someone else handling the responsibilities…and above all me—an absolute romantic, foodie, bull-headed at times, dreamy yet practical, emotional fool….

my first rain in 2009

its raining, and i'm all alone at home...noone to tell and writing is my catharsis...i'm in bangalore, vacationing. Its my first day and i have relaxed enuff to make up for my hectic months.... its been excruciatingly hot (if anyone can use that adjective for heat!) and I have been at the brunt, given my work hours and travelling in mumbai, and nw its raining!!! we live on a terrace flat and the sky is dark, clouds above, spouting rain, and as usual i'm feeling free!! exhilarated!! something jus comes over me. Whenver it rains, i feel like everything is going to be all right... i wanna soak and get wet in the rain and i cant....:( why?? i dunno, probably coz i have a cold... the spray is coming in and i jus wanna be like this alone. for once, ryt now i dont want neone with me, jus me and the rain and the writing!! the smell of the mud turning and getting wet and the sound of the rain, the first rain,this year!!!

desires... continued

Some of these are over-due desires...

• Topping the list is Pottery... I've wanted to learn pottery since a very long time, but never had the opportunity to do so. The simple movement of the hands, to form something so spectacular and smooth is fascinating. At some level this inspiration came from the movie The Ghost. Aah… unchained melody and molding clay and hands… if you’ve seen it, u know the rest.
• Next comes swimming. I’m a scorpion—a water sign—and I love water; I’ve always wanted to learn swimming, but again, it was either the lack of an opportunity or savings. So let me make this public resolution, that I will take up a membership at Mafatlals and learn and practice swimming.
• Driving. I’m not much of a car person, but I believe that it is very essential to learn how to drive; of course I asked one of my friends to teach me to ride a bike (Read: Passion Plus) but of course, it was a failure…he gave up after one session only) but anyway, coming back to the point, I want to learn to drive and SOOONN…
• A Confectionary course. Of course, with my love for food and cooking combined, this is a dream that I want to pursue (see why in my careers post)…aah the joys of baking...all because of mom.. She used to make such yummy food in my bachpan that I want it always...
• FINALLY, I want to learn the guitar and believe me I feel like kicking myself because I dint have the urge to learn it while I was a kid and had an opportunity for more than ten yrs.. but NOOOOO, I wanna learn it when I’m an adult and don’t have a brilliant teacher within a 10 mile radius.. but yah I wanna learn it, strum it and sing...
  
  Ooohhh, when do I accomplish all this? I can’t wait!!
  
  
  
  
  

I...

I’m walking along the shore, the wet sand under my feet…

The sunset reflecting the calm waters and the wind sweeping through my hair...

Somewhere I can hear a seagull cry, and I sit down on the sand.

The white sand trickles between my fingers each shiny granule spectacular in its own way,

and I let the calm wash over me..

Life has come full circle and I’m still at the beginning…

Undecided, scared and very skeptical of the future,

Yet somewhere I am confident that things can’t be worse than they already are,

And my faith in choices making my destiny is reinforced…

The sun is setting and the smell of brine in the air is delicious,

I decide to walk back, casting shadows on the sand,

leaving the footprints of my past behind...

Alone, free…

The Attack of the Roaches... (A short story inspired by a true story)

The other day, I was working rather late at office and had a zillion things on my mind that I had to do before going home. So, as soon as I left work at around 3:30 I planned the remainder of my evening accordingly. I reached Grant road station within an hour and realized that I have ample time left to complete my chores. So, I headed towards the electricity dept. to pay my humongous and already-late bill. Since I was short on cash and had to still go to Fort to run some more errands, I went home (5 min away) and went into the kitchen, drank water, emptied my bag and collected the money. In fact, I’d reached the door, when I realized that I hadn’t collected the money. Anyway, then ensued a nice journey to Fort on the BEST bus, where I was reading my much-cherished Malory Towers. I completed my errands and was home within an hour.

Yes yes, there is some purpose behind my relating this entire Raam Kahaani, and that is to bring to your notice the time difference between the two instances when I went home in that day (and I confess, also to keep you in suspense).

Okay before I go on to the highlight of the day, I would like to emphasize that I am cockroach, bird, and any-huge-insect-that-flies phobic and I jus can’t take dirty, creepy insects in my house. Also, I’m a cleanliness freak and clean my kitchen thoroughly everyday (much to the consternation of my roommate!)

Anyhow, getting back to my story, when I came home the second time, I went into the kitchen to have water. The moment I entered, I saw this huge, almost-two-inches flying cockroach on the floor. I freaked, but immediately took the can of “HIT” and sprayed the damned insect (though “smothered” would be a more likely word choice). Then I saw another one of the same size and did the same thing again. I left them there to die (sadistic ol’ me) and closed the door and went in to the room. After a while, I opened the door again and saw around two more cockroaches scurrying about, trying to get away from the cloud of HIT. But they couldn’t and they too died. By the time I sent an SOS to Pragya (my roommate), I had counted almost 12 cockroaches. I couldn’t, for the life of me, comprehend how so many cockroaches could have been there in the kitchen considering I had jus cleaned it (very thoroughly I must say) the previous day. Then I saw that the drain below the sink was slightly open and realization dawned that this entire khandaan of cockroaches had come out of there (for a picnic, perhaps??) and ended up being massacred. Soon we swept the floor of around a little more than TWENTY cockroaches and closed the drain. Aaah, it was a nightmare come true for me. I felt like I was in an ET movie.

How I celebrated Women's Day...

This was an idyllic weekend, a long one too!
So it started off with work :). It was a very very boring day at work (as usual), where I faffed a lot, but still got something done. I left early from office and met up with Priyam and Pragya—two of my closest friends in Mumbai. We took a ferry to an island just off the coast of Mumbai. It’s called Manori— a small, idyllic beach spot. So we went to this not-so-dingy hotel and booked a room. The view was wonderful and the smell of brine and sand came wafting thru, the “backyard” of the hotel was like a playground, complete with hammocks and swings, and a merry-go-round and see-saws. Oh and what a return to childhood!!! We played on all three, laughing like little kids, while swinging high, merry-go-rounding fast, and see-sawing. The sheer exhilaration of doing something completely mundane, innocent and free is something I just can’t describe. All three of us cuddled up into one hammock (a miracle it didn’t break!) and just chatted, beneath the moon and stars and coconut trees if u may please. We sang together after a long long time—songs long forgotten, loved, nostalgic. We wanted to be up before the sun so that we could go to the beach. So after a very sleepless night (thanks to the dust mites) we woke up and reached the beach, which was just behind the hotel. The serene landscape, the horizon—a wall between two shades of blue; its been long since I felt sand under my feet and waves lapping. The salt in the air smelt heavenly and all I wanted to do was lie down on the beach with the waves all around me. We walked along the shore till we came to some rocks and sat down there, looking across the ocean. Empty thoughts…calm waves…not a cloud in the sky… just the three of us—Dil Chahta hai style. When we went back to the hotel I again sat on the swing again. I felt like I was flying, the sheer joy, the freedom, the sheer happiness as I was flying into the air and back. I laughed like a child, all woes and problems forgotten, childhood memories came back to me, I wanted to swing again and again till I could swing no more. But then, the sun came out and was scorching everything in sight. Soon we found ourselves back on the ferry feeling like we’d been there for a week. Oh, but what a relaxing week, and what a return to our childhood on Women’s Day!!

life...

Life is full…

Of love lost and found,
Of friendships sealed and broken,
Of feelings felt and numbed,

Of being loved and mourned,
Of being caressed and stoned,
Of being wanted and abandoned,

Of being remembered and forgotten,
Of being respected and insulted,
Of having been there done that,

This world is full of opposites,
And so are we

Of having lived and died.

Career

Okay, so here’s the deal!

I have a zillion dreams…

1) I want to become a clinical psychologist. Work with people, listen to them, and help solve their problems. I want to assess them, interpret their personalities.
2) I want to open a small deli cum confectionary of my own, complete with baked brick walls, and splendid aromas wafting from the kitchen. Concoct amazing delicacies, experiment a bit, and introduce various foods from exotic lands. It’ll be this cozy little place, more like a home, where ill keep those soft couches that one sees in “Crossword” and small, round glass tables. The dim yellow light will add to the cozy aura and the warmth from the oven in the kitchen will give one the feeling of being in their mom’s kitchen.
3) I want to get into editing (something m doing as a part time job) because, I have this really irritating habit of correcting my friends’ English every time they say it wrong.

So wherein lies the problem??? Hmmm the first option doesn’t have much money in it. The second option needs a lot of investment. The third option is the only place where I can get the money to probably fulfill my second dream. But then, I don’t want it as much as I do the first and second options. Also, I’m afraid that ill just get sucked into the comfort of having a stable job (god willing) and may become too lethargic to actually pursue my first two dreamsL
So does it seem like I’ve gone back to square one?? I think so L

You...

The simple gesture of holding your hand, the sweet smile I see in your eyes. It’s a wonder I don’t fall in love over and over again. But then, I think I did when I last saw u-the proverbial birds chirping, winds blowing, violins playing, bells ringing.

desires...

I want to throw a tantrum, stamp my feet on the ground and shake my fists in the air.

I jus want to get away from here. Don’t feel like working.

Want to be at marine drive take a walk, feel exhilarated. Look at cute guys and pass dirty looks at the ones who think they’re cute. Look at the rich dogs on the road and wish I had one myself. Smell the sea breeze, feel cold and wish that someone was hugging me instead of their jacket.

I want to go to the quaint little church of the Convent of Jesus and Mary and kneel down at the altar and speak to God—one on one. The pews filled with flowers and little hymn books and the rays of the sun streaming through the stained glass windows.

I’m a pathetic artist, and my artistic abilities are restricted to merely buying ten-rupee coloring books from the train and filling them using my cherished Staedtler color pencils. But I suddenly want to buy a canvas and an easel and oil paints and just paint, de-stress, throw my emotions into the colors, create magic and beauty.

I want to cozy up against a non-existent fire-place with a mug of hot chocolate in one hand (with whipped cream and a tight hug!!) and a wonderful book in the other—all-engrossing, and emotionally arousing.

I want to light candles in my room, and see the shadows dance on the walls. Leave my hair loose, feel beautiful.

I want it to rain, pour in torrents, and I want to drench and soak in it. Feel the water seep through my clothes, my skin. Turn my face up towards the sky. I want to smell the mud, and see the trees glistening with rain drops, and the city with a newly laundered look to it.

I want to walk on a clean beach, barefoot, collecting shells. Look beyond the horizon, at a ship sailing far away.

I want to attend someone’s wedding and pig out on all the food, see the love that is shared between the happy couple.

I want to get drunk without drinking and fall off my chair, tipsy. I want to release myself and let go of all my inhibitions.

I want to sleep in a log cabin, with a fire crackling cheerfully in the fire place. Want to sleep between satin sheets all cozy and read another book. Put on some soft soulful music and be with myself.

Am I asking for too much ??!!!

Okay I had commented on one of my friends blogs, and this is what i had written, i cant imagine what was going on in my mind at that moment, but well...

Your day passes by in a flurry of activity, when you’re so involved that
your mind doesn’t get a chance to wander. Then the time comes when you’re with
yourself...the nights...the dreams...the insomnia. You introspect, “did I go
wrong somewhere?”, “what happened?” and we emotional fools may also wonder “why
me?!” A zillion nights pass like this, the introspection...the dreamless sleep
or the sleepless dreams. Somewhere the remnants of hope, of dreams dreamt
together, of dreams dreamt alone, come back to haunt you, but they are better
left untouched, coz the skeletons in your closets may not go back, and to face
reality would be life's biggest challenge!!

I’m at work, as bored as my tuition kids are when I lecture them on completing their work on time :). Aaah...the feeling of watching children switch off the moment they know that u are going to lecture them; I’m in training for motherhood it seems.

So let me introduce myself. I’m 23 years old and a graduate in psychology. I’m currently pursuing my masters in psychology and working at the same time. I work as an academic editor, and though it’s a wonderful job that I enjoy very much, it is very very mind effing. Along with this seemingly crazy schedule, I tutor two 12-yr-olds who are each cute in their own way and can also get on my nerves pretty soon. God has also gifted me with a voice, which I am currently in the process of honing by attending Hindustani classical vocal classes at the institute near my house. Interestingly, despite my hectic schedule I don’t seem to be losing any weight, so I have joined a gym. Phew...

My living conditions involve living in a flat with one of my closest friends from my hostel, and we have a gala time—despite her not being there most of the time. But life is still fun and six months have passed so quickly that I haven’t even realized where they have gone. But I feel fulfilled, I feel useful and busy, despite my daily lamenting on how much work I have pending or how tired I am.

Hmmm…so what have I accomplished so far? Independence, responsibilities, patience, traveling fatigue :), tolerance, alertness for any kind of situation, confidence in dealing with emergencies, confidence in dealing with any kind of person, assertiveness (which is slowly, yet steadily winning the race), still no control over my temper and crazy mood swings (scorpion tendencies u see!!), more value for money and an equal amount of guilt over spending it, pride—at supporting myself, monetarily, emotionally. Hmmm…that seems to be about it.

stolen moments...bittersweet and endearing.

the magic has lifted, revealing the ugly, dark reality beneath.

I’m clinging on to the last invisible thread of hope.
Hanging on for life, not wanting to fall down into the depths of nowhere.
In limbo.
Trying. Trying to hold on, pull myself together.
I know that the moment the thread slips out of my hands, I'm a changed person.
Trying to hold on to the person I was.
But I have already lost her...
to a love long lost...

excerpt from Linkin Park's "In the End." So totally what i feel, broken, failed, lost.
………………
What it meant to me
Will eventually
Be a memory
Of a time when

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn’t even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn’t even matter

I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There’s only one thing you should know
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There’s only one thing you should know

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn’t even matter
I had to fall
And lose it all
But in the end
It doesn’t even matter

FATE...

I'm in the train going home sitting at the window watching life pass by me. Trees, stations, tracks, people, all dart by in a blur.

CUT

I stand at the window. A cold breeze has picked up; the curtains are billowing under the effect. Far away I can hear a few lone crows cawing, probably in their sleep. It's one o' clock in the morning and Pragya's sound asleep. I absorb the darkness, the quiet. My mind in a turmoil, its been a while since it rested in peace. Feelings well up inside me, but I quell them for the fear of an outburst. I introspect, I ponder, I think, I wonder, but I dont get any answers. But then, I gave up asking questions long ago. For how long can I maintain this facade? For how long will flashes of memories blind me, songs remind me, smells give me the warmth I'm craving?

CUT

broken...

I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the images. A lone tear escapes from under my lashes, tracing a warm path down my cold cheeks. I open my eyes and I’m blinded by tears, threatening to turn into a deluge. How do I wipe five years from my life, dust away the intricate cob webs that I had woven then? How do I cover up the footprints left behind? I watch my pyramid of dreams crashing down, the furthest one placed most precariously on the top; my hopes spiral away, away from my reach, leaving me all alone. As I try to touch them for the last time, the flood gates open, destroying every inch of will power in their wake. Will I ever dream again, give my self again?