I hoard books for a living. And read them too, when I am not sleeping. I express what I think, so my unheard feelings don't sink. I like to sing when I walk, to keep shades grey, at bay. I speak like a dork, but I don't want to drive anyone away. I write what's real, and nothing fake, so visit my blog whenever you need a break ;)
…there will be light, a sparkle that will yank you out of the darkness, that will make you believe happiness is your birthright, It will make your tongue speak the language of love. You will begin to know a confidence you’d never have known before, You will know a hope that calms you, only reminds of the future, of all the niceness you are bound to have in store, There will be a strange, lilting ballad ringing in your ears, asking you to relish what you have, asking you to hang in there, Persuading you to seize each moment, to live it like it’s your last, in a world that knows no despair.
Seek it, celebrate it, become friends with it, make it your home, your identity, your intangible, non-negotiable outfit.
every time you think your world is going to crumble into shambles every time you think you’re going to lose those hard-fought battles When you see your dreams being burnt to ashes and yet, you’re expected to stay upbeat, When self-doubt hits you like a tornado and cuts the ground from under your feet, Like the sky has transformed into the wind beneath your wings and is pushing you to make the Milky Way yours, Because, this too shall pass, steadying your heart for better and for worse.
Goodbyes. They’re an opportunity; the last in a while, or probably, forever, to pour your heart out, to listen to confessions, to the tiny voice that you thought you’d let linger around for a little longer, They become, without you realising it, hand in glove, with destiny – they sometimes give you a flicker of a hint that your worlds are about to turn topsy turvy, They’re a nagging feeling in your head that nudge you to seize the moment, to memorize everything you feel about it, to allow it to grow into a stimulant that makes you want to plead to time, to ask it to stand still, to go back a light year or a few, so you can relive what you lost, learn to cherish what you have while it lasts, and maybe, dream of an eternity, cloudless and new.
I close my eyes tight every time reality strikes me like a bolt of lightning, threatening to take away with it the light in my eyes, and begin to dream of rainbows glazing my skies with happy colours and kindly words and hope, to look forward to, Of secret romances, of smiles bathed in sunshine, of the scent of a fresh chocolate fruit gateau, Of conversations that keep replaying in my head in infinite loops, of opportunities I could have seized and treasured, Of moments that demand my attention, of envy waiting to be savoured and discarded, Of reminiscent regrets, waiting to be learnt from and set on fire, Of baggage that my shoulders have long been carrying, of desire that has been crawling under my skin, waiting to be given a name, waiting to float past my fingers and diffuse themselves into my attire, Of a tiny rusted key that opens an invisible window in my balcony And lets me weave a whole new concord amid all the cacophony.
“Welcome change,” they said. “It’ll make you stronger.”
But they didn’t tell me, it’ll make my nights longer, They didn’t tell me I would wake up questioning my dreams every day and my ability to realise them, They didn’t tell me I would faithfully have to give it my all, yet would end up going to bed feeling dumb,
They didn’t tell me the new world wouldn’t be accepting of mistakes, they didn’t tell me it wouldn’t have room for a human, They didn’t tell me it’d be doused in bruised egos and blatant biases, and I’d be pushed to start doubting my acumen,
They didn’t tell me that every time I stretched my hand out for help, I’d be ripped-off of the last traces of confidence clinging on to my fingers. They didn’t tell me that I’d be left hanging with questions I might never have answers for. They didn’t tell me that I’d have to get used to hesitation stinging my tongue every time my lips part.
They said I would have to grow a thick skin. “To unkind words, you need an insulin.”
They said I should learn to turn a deaf ear. They said I’d need guts to be accepting of the new universe that might grow to live under my skin. They said I’d need to give myself time to search for new skies in it, to fly higher.
But they didn’t tell me in the storm it’d stir, I’d end up lighting my own pyre.
They didn’t tell me that while trying to find my wind in it, I would end up setting my wings on fire.
Will screaming ’emergency’ freeze this moment, build me a time machine and make it work? Will the panic in my brain fetch me a time turner? Will it be enough to make the grandfather clock in the hallway start ticking backward? I wonder how a few minutes of silence grew into endless hours over the years and expanded into an island of unease between us – Will going back in time and starting again, looking up and sharing a smile, listening to our heart and extending a hand, stop us from becoming strangers in the present universe?
When all of this is over, what will become of us? Will we be stronger, fiercer and learn to stop making a fuss? Will we break open the shell, step out of the comfort zone we are snoozing in now and give the world a chance again? Will we be any less susceptible to pain? Will we start making every moment count and will we begin to value every penny more?
When all of this is over, will roadtrips and sleepovers stop seeming like stories we cooked up in our head when we were bored? Will fear start lingering around like a long-lost friend? Will the ties that we broke ruthlessly be too late to mend? Will we learn to remember the days in the week? Will we wake up to re-discovering the same joy every time a Saturday is upon us? Will we be suspicious of what we eat? Of where we meet? Of how we greet?
When all of this is over, will we be brave enough to step up and step out, will we manage to make new memories, hold people closer and cross all borders? Or will there be an air of caution stealthily breathing around – will we forever want to hide in this darkness, never wanting to be found?