Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Whispering Little Goodbyes

Whispering little goodbyes
to what could have been,
a touch here,
now forever gone,
all destroyed,
despair winning every
single move
while
love hides furtively
behind the idiosyncrasies
of false pretences
of contentment and fulfilment...

Whispering little goodbyes

while the rain pours,
salty rivers of what
comes forth as a broken dream
of grief and sorrow.
Why does anyone
need to want
so much out of dreams?

Whispering little goodbyes,

the hugs and kisses
no longer remain,
upset over life's intense relationships
and the eventual loss of faith.

Lost.

Copyright @Saanjh2010

Monday, November 15, 2010

Making Sense - Naah!

I sit late night, watch the sky. Even the clouds are hazy and stars faded, so much like everything that meant the most to me in life. Why does every sentence spoken have to be bitter and a resounding slap on the face? A slap doesn't hurt cause the sting burns your face. It hurts because it is an insult to your self-esteem, to your sense of being you. Fuck it hurts and it hurts bad. 

Words can hurt like that. Action and the lack of it witnessed in the course of the day can hurt like that. Here laughing and happy one minute and punching your stunned guts the next.
I don't know about tomorrow which kind of leaves me to live day to day, too afraid to borrow from the sunshine because the clouds are turning grey. What have I to worry and what have I not. All standing like a commonplace soldier waiting for the next command.

Its all in the mind...however love is a resident of the heart. That's where the mess starts. The heart beats a resonance the mind has no frigging clue about.
 
Value the person not for what you see and perceive today but for what the person has been so far and can be tomorrow. There are possibilities everywhere.

Waqt ne kiya...it is such a beautiful song. But, I don't want that regret of having parted ways. 

I die a different death every day. Our relationship dies a bit every day as well. The distances are immeasurable sometimes. I am tempted to stop trying. You may gather something that breaks and attempt to mend it. Most people who care do that because it is important enough in their lives to repair. Who throws away someone just because...gosh...I don't even know just because why. 

I want to be loved. I don't want this to burn to ashes. The flames lick my soul and my heart. My heart will stop beating someday but what about the burning soul that will ever burn. What about that? 

Fuck! I sound desperate. I am. I sound lost. I am. I sound bereft of care. I am.

I sound like I wish I was dead. Perhaps, I am.

I don't even make sense anymore. 


I can't talk to him any more. I am really lost. For six years, he has been my every waking thought and through the day he has been there. He haunts my dreams. 

Haunts. 

Copyright Saanjh@2010




Friday, November 12, 2010

Things that Hurt

Things that hurt. Love. Reality. No hugs.

Sometimes, it just rises up. A craving to be hugged by him. No comfort in the world compares to the comfort I get out of a warm hug by him. And it is then that I miss him the most. Him...sitting or standing half arm's length and the distance for a hug far away, miles away beyond the horizon of hope.

How powerful hugs are. And I think hugs really work because they are meant to give comfort, an assurance of peace and well-being. Bereft of his hugs, I find no comfort. No, not even in prayer. Damn.

I am an idiot. But yes, where hugs are concerned, I am an idiot and hell, I don't regret that.

Aw crap!

And then I see him give a huge hug to another woman...more than the feeling of jealousy, I feel a twinge of envy, endless emptiness and I miss him. Comfort. Sheer lack of it.

It is a rare happiness.

Dancing in his arms two night ago I felt my heart flutter, the pits of my stomach began a burning trail of a desire to keep dancing with him, in his arms, while I could touch his face, his neck, feel his breath burn my ear lobes ...I felt alive.

Ten minutes after we sat at the bar and he broke my heart again. He sipped his drink and then came up close to me and said "at least the dance takes care of the image of our marriage".

Oh my God!

Why?

Why? 

- Copyright Saanjh@2010

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Random Dreams and Perspective

Sometimes randomness is a way of life. Right now, it is the way my life is going. Everything matters and nothing matters. Balance. Ah! That is what needs to come to light. The journey continues though...because the darkest hour, I was told a long time ago, lasts sixty minutes, like any other hour. 

Every dream takes us on a journey through remnants of some shred of reality. That is the way I believe dreams work. abandonment, anger, fear, despair all gathers like some dark cloud, threatening in its loud thunderous mockery of your life, getting darker and ominous. 

Switch thoughts. It really is true. We cannot really tolerate the lies our man speaks after a point of living together for years. In my dazed state of smoky evenings, I realize this. Not sure if it is profound but, it sure is a view point. All that is said is believed only if the expressions and body language holds itself through. Otherwise, little things can give it away. I know precisely when the lie has been said, what truths have been hidden or avoided, or plain change of topic for want of avoiding the subject where one feels one is getting cornered. 

Our men stop being there perhaps, because they figure that out for us as well or at least figure out that the lies cannot convince and we are able to see through them. We know them too well. At least, we know the man whose head has lain in the pillow next to yours for years altogether. We know when he avoids the truth and when he wants to not discuss things because it will end up in a confrontation one is not ready for. And women...oh well! Women begin to almost come to a point of scorn because they can read their men so well. So much of harsh truth that cannot be hidden, because we can read, sometimes, every breath of theirs. 
Random thoughts...you were warned.

Copyright @Saanjh2010






Saturday, November 6, 2010

Relationships are like Books


If I make a statement..."And the days went by like paper in the wind. Everything changed, then changed again. It's hard to find a friend. It's hard...", would it indicate a lack of companionship or intimacy or an insatiable desire to attain the unattainable?

You make a friend and feel, well, here is someone I have been hoping I'd meet and soon you spend all your time with the person, giving the person your undivided attention. You smile, laugh, marvel, cry and the person gets embedded into your head and you come to a point where you know what the person is all about. you share everything and know everything. Know everything? Umm...thinking again. Let me take that up later.

When you get really comfortable you leave it aside, perhaps, introduce the person to another friend of yours. the stories are re-told and shared and a bond is formed. Finally, it gets to a comfortable stage where it rests a while, quite like a read book, on your book-shelf. One fine day, the person has to move on for whatever reasons. What do you do with the person then? Do you live the relationship everyday? Do you open a page every now and then to re-run what's in it? do you just leave it to gather dust until you need it again?

Relationships are like books. They need to be dusted with care and looked after, nurtured beyond the first flight of read. Life goes on and the books on your shelf remain. You lose some, some tear, some get exchanged for another, some lie there, uncared for, like it has become a part of your surroundings and even if you don't bother too much about it, it is there. The point is, it is valuable to you, that is why it is sitting on your shelf as something that belongs to you. Do you bother about it. Do you dust it simply on the outside and never run a caressing hand on the pages of memories and good things that makes up most of the pages of the book? Does it bother you to see the book dusted on the outside, never mind the termites and silk-worms that eat into the pages, erasing and destroying what was once a beautiful, sought-after part of your life? 

Or...Is it still the way it was the day it came into your life because you made it a part of your everyday life. There is no tomorrow really. Every book I have read for the first time has made me decide whether I wish it belonged to me. I have wished to then have it on my book-shelf so I may read it over and over again. Every time I read a book again, it gives more meaning and depth to a relationship. 

Yet, sometimes, the depth loses its meaning. I have to explore why that happens. Actually, may be I do know. I just am not ready to share that yet. 

Naah! Not yet!

Copyright @Saanjh2010






Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Journey Inward

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." - Martin Luther King Jr.
A  friend of mine wrote this and the thought that instantly came to me...how true! In the end it is the silence we will remember, whether it is the silence of solidarity or that of indifference. We will remember. Memories fade...yet.
 But, this is not what I wanted to write about. 
“The longest journey of any person is the journey inward.” So says Dag Hammerskjvld. I totally agree. When one begins to think beyond the material aspect of life that we all run after, what is it that we are here really for? I would think there are bigger, deeper reasons for our existence. There is a continuity of life that goes beyond what is visible. It is the life that is felt. It is about feelings. What separates us from the rest is the way we feel. Every individual feels the way he or she wants in his or her own right. 

Before we venture out to change the world I think it is quite essential to know ourselves. Knowledge of the inner self is what I am talking about and not just how handsome or pretty, ugly or terrible one looks visually. The glow on a person’s face, the aura emerges when one is conscious of the sub-conscious and aware of the energy that emanates from deep within. Eventually, that is what really keeps us going.

The need-to-know path can be really lonely sometimes.  But, to be alone by itself can be a privilege. It brings with it an opportunity to know oneself, to mirror ones thoughts within one’s own consciousness, to wonder at the thoughts triggered by something someone said and what comes out of it. How I wish it was as easy to do it. I struggle every day. Some days I feel frustrated and angry...like I am right now.

Books here really become the best companions. I become voracious within my selective reading. Perhaps, eventually, it will egg me on to move on in my journey within myself.
I have been getting into that space within myself and realization has been coming, sometimes in spurts and sometimes in a smooth flow. Sometimes I am still like the lake and sometimes I hit sea state eight right on. Turmoil within one’s mind is not such a bad thing after all. While it brings with it an impatience of the soul, it also brings with it certain courage to keep moving towards self-actualisation. 

I am on a journey. I have always been…my outer journey now is aided by a journey within. I am inquisitive about what lies within. I sail.

So far, so good...err...I hope!

Copyright @Saanjh2010
 
 

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Hearbeats and Heartaches


I had a life. At least I thought I did. What illusions we live with! For the moment, I know exactly how it feels waiting to be shot. I am on a tortuous wait to be shot, the revolver all cocked and aimed. I am restless, frustrated and the journey to this heart break is known; a swing between shock, bouts of anger, cynicism, extreme sadness and a hell lot of pain. How can he understand me, my feelings, my emotions when he cannot understand himself.
The institution of marriage and committed relationships resides on bedrock of complete faith, respect, an attempt to understand and endless love. Maybe love is, after all, over-rated. It is women like me who place way too much importance in the emotion and feeling called love. I don’t see it existing anywhere. Not one bit. But then, right now, I do not even believe in the term called ‘family’. How can I when I am standing on a precipice, seeing the remains of my own scattered in front of me. No, that doesn’t exist for me either. Who am I fooling when I call anyone family?
He is all I think about.  In the world that has crumbled before my eyes since I was a child, this is the most devastating of all. And then, I wish I was dead. I wish that I had died when I was five. I wish that I had died while I stood in front of an oncoming train, playing dare with my brother. I wish I had died when the ship collided at sea. I was so sure I would die that day. There wasn't a reason there to live. There seems no reason now. Not for me to live.
A month and a half away from me and you have drifted so far away, the gaps so wide and you a fading speck in the horizon of my life as the sun sets inevitably. Six months away will kill everything. I feel so. I have a right to feel so. 
Sometimes I want to blame you for it all. Then, I think, maybe the problem is me. You are not the once who has faced rejections in love relationships. You, if ever moved away from your relationships, it involved some play of circumstance. On the other hand, look at me...I thrived on rejections. Yes. I am more than convinced it is me. Look within for answers. That's the answers I get.
What is the point of us dragging and making the torment last longer? I don't want to die a bit every day, but I think I am. It is funny and so damn right. Every activity for a man is like a game he absolutely must win. Eventually there isn't fairness.
 I have the right to deal with this in my own way, so do not even think about taking it away from me. You can go, do what you want, live your dreams. You are not someone I will ever consider an enemy, be rest assured. But I will not be your friend either. I will love you for the rest of my life I do not intend to be at the receiving end of any guilt-ridden kindness or love and care that arises out of it. What I do to take care of me will be none of your concern. I will do what is right by me. You do what you think or believe is right. Don't wonder about how I will deal with anything that comes my way. It will not be a concern of yours. I may sound like a hard-heart bitch right now, but I am a survivor. I will survive. At whatever cost. The cost will not be your concern. Don't make it your concern.
I will always love you. Love has no reason. I have no specific reason for loving you. I simply love you.
I crawl into bed at night the feeling of being unwanted and alone creeps up.  It is a dread before the nightmares begin again. I have never slept a night in my life without dreaming as far back as I can remember. All I dream these days is abandonment, fear, and despair, running after something, someone I may never quite reach or touch once again.
I do not attempt to touch or hug you even though I am quite desperate. You shrug away my hand and I withdraw feeling like an untouchable. In your sleep, for a few fleeting minutes you draw up behind me and hold me close. I feel you wanting me and then it is over. You move away. I felt at peace those few minutes. Little joys you know. I lie in bed, all alone. You probably wait for me to fall asleep so the awkwardness of not touching doesn't arise.
Why does it have to be this way? Is this what a person does to someone he loves (?) and calls his best friend? Is this what a person does? How do I balance my life? On what? How does keep-the-Faith apply here? How?
How can it hurt so much? The word 'family' just got redefined right in front of my eyes...and I realize I really stand alone. So damn alone. My dad, mom, kid...everyone already so scattered and now I also face the truth that I am not family to you either. Damn! I just realized that I really stood alone. How alone is alone? 
I know.
My body hurts, I bear the pain because the pain in my heart more than overwhelms me; it eats into my soul with each passing day. I feel tortured by the demons arising out of my own thoughts. I feel like a revolver, waiting to be shot. I thought I could do anything, achieve anything with you by my side. I felt you accepted me for who I was; a result of my life's experiences and some of which are you. Now, I have no goals. No values of feeling and giving to guide me. 
Nothing.
The weekends are the hardest. I so want to reach out, touch you, sleep in your arms, and have you hug me close as the warmth of your breath tickles my neck. I so want to kiss you, get just a tiny response so I feel alive, needed, wanted. There is none.

I am. Alone. 

Copyright @Saanjh2010