Hello from the otherside …

It has been a long time since I had a general post about life and things inside my head; so much has happened and yet I’m still where I was with my last conversation here.

You know how people say things like ‘I’m dead’ generally and casually in a conversation, I have started to see it as gibberish. It makes no sense. People don’t die, they vanish. You know what dies, a radio or a car engine or a mobile battery; things die and then they stay there on the table or the bed or inside the pocket of a forgotten bag. A radio dies and becomes a rusty box but it stays there. People don’t stay, they vanish. People cant die, they vanish and cant be found again even if they are rusty or useless.

I’m not being melancholic, dark sure, but I’m just stating the facts of what I felt after my father’s death. I don’t think I’m a writer enough to describe it, so let’s move on.

Well, when I said a lot has happened but I’m still here I was talking about my ‘Im going to get my book published’, yeah hasn’t happened yet and I don’t think its on the cards.

Today is day 2 of NaNoWriMo and here I’m a hopeless owner of random words, stories, ideas and characters but no courage. For someone who likes to pretend to have a superhero alter ego, I sure am quite a chicken.

Maybe, I should just do it. Write whatever, it’s not like that it will get published and judged.

Yesterday, I was suffering from Mean Reds like the ones Holly Golightly talks about in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I had a dream and even in my dream I chose to be the righteous one and letting go of something because the words were there, the thought ‘What would the world say’. It is absolutely stupid to not live life even in a dream, the San Junipero made of tissues, cells, nerves and some other weird human anatomy stuff.

I woke up blue and red; spent all my day thinking how another day has come and gone by with nothing happening. Something has to happen right, some stars have to collide to divert me from this path, I’m dragging my feet on.

Anyhow, I think I’m going to write. Its not like I want to be Rowling or Woolf, but maybe I could be Paul Varjak with one book and no fame. That would be fun too.

I have started catching up on Audrey Hepburn movies. I certainly believe I’m in the wrong era.

Alright, I’m going to do it. I’m going to send my book to another publishing agent and I’m going to do NaNoWriMo 2017.

Here is a song from Rooney Mara’s latest A Ghost Story. She is an underrated actress with so much to give. She is exceptionally talented and I’m a fan.

                    I get overwhelmed

She died. They killed him.

Grieving for a fictional character is a real thing ask any book reader and Netflix addict…

Don’t quite know, how to say how I feel…!!!!!

Grey’s Anatomy s11E22, JJ dies and I went all weepy…So why was I crying? Because a fictional patient died? Because I’m a sensitive woman who cries over sad or happy scenes? Because I wanted to cry for days and I just did? I don’t know.

For past few days, I have been wondering about things. I get riled up at home, I hate being at Gotham and I am terrified of every ‘tomorrow’. All that awesome smouldering and smuggy aura that I try to carry at work is a lie I would live for as long as I’m alive. Forever. Because let’s be honest, no way in this life  am I ever going to find dawn. frkn dawn is such an excuse to hold on to an invisible hope.

Day before yesterday, I woke up to a dream that was so beautiful. I was with a friend I miss and my little T-dog was there. It was like being in a world I left a long time ago. Sometimes I dream of Snowy like he never left and I wake up realizing how much I miss him. A friend of mine thinks, one of the reason I’m blue is because he left because everyone around me moves away to different places. True. Almost true. I’m the bluest of blue but not cause every friend I ever made moved away or because my dog died or because I’m an invisible suitcase with a story untold. I’m blue because I’m. That’s who I’m, that’s what I was meant to be a color, a word and a person who would spend rest of her day pretending to be awesome because like they say in Grey’s Anatomy

The carousel never stops moving

Maybe there is life on an another planet & maybe they know its wise to stay away from us…!!!!

I think the only people who stay with us till the end are the characters we meet in the books we read. Last night i finished reading Torn Thread, a book based on a story of a 12 year old girl’s experience in a Nazi camp. Holocaust stories, real or fiction, often make me wonder how low humanity went.

I may not understand the complexity of religion and politics and old wars the world went through, but the ugly naked truth behind stories of people who died, or lived to talk about it, breaks my heart. When i read a holocaust book i don’t see a Jewish girl or boy or woman being denied life in Auschwitz, i see kids and women being brutally murdered.

Torn Thread is another book of courage, hope, faith, sisterhood, pain and dark truth of the good and bad we have become. I loved the book. I did.

When i finished reading it i couldn’t help but wonder how much resemblance it bears to Moon at Nine. Yes, i know the latter is a story of innocent love in the wrong era and the former is a story of sisterhood and struggle in a painful era. But both the books had true stories with nations at war and young protagonists who suffered and were made to pay the consequences of their existence.

We don’t need another planet, we are not meant to be civilized. We merely breath and procreate as we stamp over the privilege of being the only living beings in a lonely world of empty planets.

All we do is struggle and work hard to afflict pain on the weaker ones. We are not human beings god created us to be. We are broken parts of the good and bad left behind in the war of religion and politics. That’s what we are.

RIP Robin Williams…sorry, we couldnt save you….!!!!

Tuesday was a heavy day with something hurting inside so bad that I could hardly keep my face straight, all I wanted was to cry but with the job of being a Super Hero you don’t get to take off your mask not until you are back at home and all alone. Only Alfred gets to see Batman as Bruce Wayne and in my case no one because my Alfred was my dog who isn’t here. God I miss him.

So, I don’t know how to say this but news about Robin Williams kind of hit me hard and not because he was a great actor and I have seen his movies. It’s because of the cause of death. Suicide. Has always been a touchy subject for me, always. People who die because they are hurting are people who drowned because no one could save them.

He was the funny guy, who spent all his life joking and making hilarious faces to make others laugh and smile, while grieving inside all alone. Some people struggle silently and try to keep themselves floating but in the end they get drowned and nobody gets to save them. Why? Why can’t we save people who are in pain?

Why is sadness so colourless at times?

Why do we believe that someone who is smiling all the time isn’t capable of feeling pain? Why some people cant find voice for their inner struggle?

I don’t know why but when I hear about a suicide it kind of makes me sad in a bad way, like we failed a person. Suicide scares me because mental illness is for real, it’s not Santa Claus and not many people like to accept it. Some people might prefer to call it selfishness and cowardliness but when a person is so hurt that dying seems the only way out, he/she needs help not lecture.

Robin Williams had his demons and yes he died because he drowned in his darkness, but he would always be remembered for his act of spreading laughter and smiles. If only sadness had a colour or smell, if only mental illness came with big blinging sign boards that said “SOS”. Truth is not everyone gets to show the hurt and darkness, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

I know people were sad or surprised or shocked but i was hurt in a different way. For me the news was beyond a celebrity losing the battle of depression, for me it was loss of another person to the hardcore reality of sadness.

Pain, sometimes, has tendency of sticking to people in a way where it becomes a part of their existence.

 

I’m going to miss Liesel Meminger because i finished reading ‘The Book Thief’…finally

I am a person who can watch a horror flick all alone with no one in the room, but i cant face truth, abandonment and heartache. I fear no ghost, however I do fear getting attached and then being left all alone with heartache.

Today I will tell you something about me, which a shrink would tell me if I ever went to see one. But I already know this. I suffer from fear of saying goodbye even to the most non-existent and materialistic things in life such as a fictional character, a story, a book, a pen, a beautiful coffee mug or just a good movie.

There is a reason why I often tend to get stuck in between a story I’m writing or a book I’m reading. I get scared of the fact that the ending is near, so I try to avoid writing much or I distract myself with silly things, endless number of TV shows or songs to make sure I read nothing or close to a page or two because I don’t want the book to end. True story, crazy but totally true.

But not only have I started writing again, I also finally spent my whole day reading and I finally managed to finish “The Book Thief”. No more excuses, no mores distractions, no more fear of saying goodbye to Liesel Meminger and her Papa. I just sat and read, even when I was around people I read.

There are books I can read again, books I would like to have with me if I’m ever stuck on an island all myself. These books have people I love, stories that made me cry and smile, feel real human emotions and these books have their own share of pain which for some reason made me forget mine.

I think I’m now going to dedicate a page to my top favourite books and sure “The Book Thief” would be there. I never thought it’s possible to see Death as anything else but a morbid sad phenomenon. Markus Zusak gave a voice to death in such as way that all I wanted to do was not finish the book. Because I was scared that once its over, i would no longer read more about what happened on Himmel Street.

I won’t give the story, but if you don’t mind reading a little dark but painfully beautiful story about a German girl in a Nazi Germany then my friends this is your book.

The last book that left an impression on me this big was “Perks of being a Wallflower” for I still crave to re-read it again, only I don’t.

Glee wont be same…!!!!

 

This morning i woke up and heard the sad news of Cory Monteith. Cory’s death makes me sad…i don’t know him but knowing he died is sad. He was young, talented and gifted but its all has come to an end…its sad. I played some of his songs on Youtube because a part of me needed to see him. Glee is more than a show for me, because i relate to some of its characters. I see myself in Glee, somewhere in that class sitting among those kids. When Finn sang to Santana, i felt like he was singing to me.