While I was standing alone in the darkness, this lightened lamp caught my attention. I could see my faint shadow painted on a wall by the light of this lamp. As the stormy winds were playing with the flame, my shadow was trembling too.
I watched the little lamp fight with the darkness, betraying the strength of its own and also the depth of the darkness. The blowing breeze tilted the triumph towards darkness, and from the struggle of the shivering flame, I could see that the lamp would die any time soon. But surprisingly, the flame got its balance back. Perhaps it was the magic of firm determination of not giving up, and now the lamp stood still against the dark in this “looking impossible to win” battle. I was astonished by the toil, the little lamp had gone through without a dwindle and I surely was impressed with the arrogant behaviour the lamp showed towards the uncanny dark. But now I think, what choice did the lamp have?
Isn’t life like this sometimes? It drags us into the battle we don’t want to fight and leaves us no choice. We can’t run away no matter how tired we are because of this war. You don’t see victory near, but that can’t be the reason you give up. The only escape way, is through.
But does the battle make us stronger in the end? I don’t know. Perhaps, I’m still in between the war. But you remember the lamp, it shone the brightest when the darkness was at its peak.
You can try to put your
feelings & nightmares in a bottle
and throw it out in the ocean
and you hope that it goes away,
you hope that it never
comes back to you,
but it always comes back
and you know it,
it never goes away,
just like sunshine in the morning
it somehow manages
to come back everyday.
Sometimes when two people are together for a long time, they might decide to get each other’s names inked on their bodies. Isn’t it weird that, that ink will be nothing but a bunch of meaningless letters if their connection isn’t genuine?
If they suddenly decide to split up in the unforeseen future, that ink will be nothing but a painful memory. A memory about someone who they used to love unconditionally, someone they wanted to build a home with.
What is one supposed to do if their dreams burned right in front of them and the contingent scar was so deep that it might just never fade away?
It is a known fact that we all carry our emotional baggage, but are you also carrying someone else’s name inked on your soul?
Feel the feelings,
The ones you can’t explain,
The ones where you know what you know,
But you don’t know why or how.
Feelings that have no words.
The ones not found in any dictionary and any language.
The ones that often whisper lies to you.
The ones impossible to ignore.
Hope is a song i wrote for you,
now i’m stripping it off lyric by lyric.
Misery is a nothing-town sleeping
over the grave of heartbreaks.
i’m that grave.
Falling for someone is standing
on the edge
and dancing with the devil.
whoever falls first, wins.
My feet are bleeding.
I lost, like I always do.
Staying back is like winning
a lottery, but
only when they want you to stay.
you don’t want me to, do you?
Asking you to stay is like
keeping my heart in a blender
and handing it over to you.
Rest is our history, shattered.
i won’t disappoint.
s(t)ay, i am a fool.
s(t)ay, you love me.
s(t)ay, we will survive.
s(t)ay, you want us to work.
s(t)ay, i’m hopeless.
s(t)ay, it’s me who needs to leave.
John Green in all his sparkling brilliance said, “You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices.”
Maybe, he felt it, maybe, he lived it, maybe, he scribbled it for the sake of darting his readers core once again with his ink of sweet torture.
I do not know, I do not want to know. We’ve had our fair share of love and heartbreaks. But trust me, it doesn’t hurt anymore. For very obvious reasons, you choose a person to own the bigger share of your heart without expecting anything in return. Whether he preserves it, caresses it or moulds it into a trash can, you still keep your lesser half inside the can. The memories won’t haunt you. Rather, they would become a much sweeter version of nightmares which you’d want to live everyday. And everytime it’d sting, you’d smile.
You will never be unloved by me.
You are too well tangled in my soul.”