Why won’t you stay gone?
Why do you keep coming back
Only to leave all over again?
Why won’t you stay gone?
Why do you keep coming back
Only to leave all over again?
Its funny how when you think you are really done with someone you go around telling others and casually (but not so casually) announce it time and again that “I’m done!”. Hoping that that “done” would be the official one for you and you’d believe it once you say it out loud. And then past midnight when you lay awake in your bed drunk or even sober, you realise that man you’re far from done. You’re still stuck in that place. You’re still holding on. Still holding on to the memories of that person hoping they would somehow make it better.
No matter how many times you say it out loud to let the world know in order to let yourself know that you have moved one, you know deep down that you haven’t because you feel that longing when you listen to a song in the club, read that piece of poetry, go back to your conversations, really fight the urge to drunk dial, go over your journal entries of that person, just anything and everything that even remotely reminds you of them.
It does not happen overnight, as much as you wish it did, it does not work that way. And now that you started announcing to the world, you do not want to be perceived weak ( or dare i say uncool) by them so you don’t let anyone know that you really are not done. You shed a few tears in lonesome and make up some kind of a story for your lost and sad mood for those times.
Eventually, You get busy with your life, with work, with school, a show or friends. Now, It is probably that phase where you stopped announcing it out loud every time you get drunk.
And then, suddenly, one fine day when you lay awake past midnight a voice whispers in your head “you really are done”. It happens when you least expect it. Just like that. Did you even acknowledge the process? Hardly, but it sure leaves an impact. Is there a need to say it out loud now? Nope. Your heart knows it, it is living it!
Being done is not an announcement that you scream at the top of your lungs, it is a soft whisper which only you can hear that speaks those liberating words to you.
Do you ever feel nostalgic for something that did not even happen?
Something you wished so bad would happen but never did, or maybe you never had the courage to let it happen or you tried your damnest for it to happen, but well, the universe had the upper hand.
Maybe you felt disappointed for a while but eventually realised that it was for the better or maybe you made yourself believe that it was probably for the better. So now when you lay awake around 2am, how does it feel when you look back? Is it a nostalgia for something you imagined would happen? And the imagination was so overpowering that it almost felt real? Does it happen often?
Does it leave you feeling empty? Does your heart ache a little too much even today though it was a long time ago?
Whether you’re aching or empty, let me tell you something, something i feel is the reason the situation turned out to be the way it did. Maybe it is better it never happened, because what if the disappointment of it never reaching the level of your imagination was way more heartbreaking?
What if unknowingly you were in for more ache than fulfilment?
I am aware about the whole deal of what ifs and how you shouldn’t live in what ifs but it happened once and that is okay, what is not okay is being so hard on yourself for the sole reason of the not-happening.
And this could be taken as a lesson to be taken forward for the next time you hold yourself back from something. There is too much to talk and write about that which did not happen because of the speculations and the freedom of imagination, Maybe that is what is writing poetry for someone, some kind of art for someone.
So don’t feel disheartened, you tried, even if you didn’t think you did, you tried and the universe acknowledged it.
Been doing that thing where I listen to way too much music and zone out more than usual.
That thing I do where i completely lose myself in a book to the point where reality is what appears as a break.
More sleeping than usual, more staying in bed even if it’s just lying around and not getting work done.
Taking road trips just for the heck of it and trying to accomplish the task of reading along with not wanting to miss out on the view.
Just sitting by the window when it starts raining and doing nothing but listening to the sound of rain.
A little more contemplating and less speaking.
August, you’ve been one taking-it-easy on the self kinda month so far.
This is that kind of a collection of poetry which will leave the readers either underwhelmed or overwhelmed. From what I have heard from people, this collection either became one of their absolute favourites or they were just gravely disappointed by it and hype.
It is Divided into 4 parts: the hurting, the loving, the breaking and the healing.
Trigger warning: rape and sexual abuse.
There is not much that I can really say to give an idea about this book so I am just going to talk about how I felt about it.
I bought this book after hearing rave reviews about it in all the bookish communities everywhere. The day it was delivered I went to a café near my college and finished it in one sitting, it does not take long. The writing is nothing fancy though, so if you are looking for a literary masterpiece that you can break down and analyse, I don’t think this book is it. But I think the simplicity of it is what makes it so special amongst many other things. This collection of modern poetry doesn’t take a lot from you while reading, you don’t have to mentally prepare yourself to read some heavy poetry kind of thing, it is easy to absorb. There no going out of your way to understand and relate to it, it just happens effortlessly. Although there are certain pieces that look like they could have been just a sentence or a quote but then again so long as the words reach out and have an impact on the audience, the writing style might not matter that much.
And it is not like I rushed through, I took my time with every word, every line and allowed myself to feel whatever it was made me feel. There were parts of it that I felt connected to so much that I just had to close the book for a few sections and take in the reality of it. There were times when I had tears in my eyes, times when I actually felt lonely while reading, maybe it was like the reading was getting me to feel more than I signed up for.
Towards the end of reading this, I felt like I personally knew the poetess. Rupi just put everything possible out there and it was so beautifully done! Needless to say, it obviously became one of my favourites.
I’d seen snow only on screen and read about it in books but never actually seen it with my own eyes. Ever since I can remember i’d always fantasized about what it would be like to actually see snow. I knew it was going to be magical and like a dream
The day we were to climb the mountain, the only thing I was really looking forward to was the snow. And believe it or not, I was so engrossed in making it past the stepping stones while crossing the river, which by the way, looked like it was flowing really angrily
I didn’t even notice the patch of snow right beside me. Sure it was covered in mud and all, but hey it’s all about the beauty within, right?
So I legit scream and no, I don’t just run towards it, I sprint. And there was no subtlety in my reaction, I made it very obvious that in the 21 years of my life I was seeing snow for the first time.
I hastily brush off all the mud with my bare hands even though everyone else kept telling me that there was going to be plenty of snow ahead. My reaction was probably like a potterhead visiting the wizarding world of Harry Potter or a kid going to Disneyland for the first time.
I could not believe I was holding snow in my hands! I forgot all about the exhausting climb that it had been and all the more that lay ahead. I didn’t care that my entire group was way ahead of me and it would take me really long to catch up. In that moment, I really did not care. I was having my own little moment.
Just the fact that something like snow exists makes me so happy.
Your dreams belong to you.No matter how big or small, it matters. That dream is like a sacred place in your mind and soul. So when you decide to let someone in on your dream, in that comfort zone of your soul, please do not be disheartened when they brush it off, or even worse, laugh it off.
When they don’t share the same enthusiasm as you, please don’t let it weaken your confidence because there is a different sparkle for every pair of eyes when they talk about something they’re passionate about.
And When you decide to let someone in on that idea that you’ve been so afraid to speak out loud, please do not expect them to help you carry majority of it forward. You’re the one who is going to have to do the most (or all of it) bit.
You owe it to your dream to carry it forward on your shoulders, not as a burden but the way superheroes wear their capes, with pride, dignity and the will to fly when even though they know that something could go wrong and they might fall.
So don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. You dream is solely yours and that is what makes it unique.