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

Dressed in hate, we change our facebook icon to solidarity mode…!!!

For those with different opinion lets just agree to disagree.

I recently read about some woman who, runs a hair saloon, posted on her Facebook that her Saloon would not take people from Islam religion. This was her reaction to Paris attack.
Just when I was trying to make sense of it, I found this article today. I wish I could read it and say what a moron neighbor, but all I could think was not 2 or 5 or 9 but 19 cops.

Fear has taken us all down the drain far away from sanity. We are scared of Muslims, Blacks, Browns, LGBT, Asians, Refugees; heck we are even scared of Straights and Whites.

http://www.ndtv.com/opinion/my-white-neighbor-thought-i-was-breaking-into-my-own-apartment-nineteen-cops-showed-up-1245025

Funny thing is each one of us of would cry racism while doing the same to the other. You might be a Muslim but you’ll hate Gays, you might be a Black but you’ll hate a Muslim. I know some brown people who cry racism but often end up calling names to those in living in East or making fun of LGBT.

No matter who you are, you’ll always find someone to hate and someone to blame.

And we want to find Aliens…!!!!

Just one of those days when I miss the voices…

Have you ever had a day where you don’t feel anything? You are not happy, but you are not sad either. No anger or fear or anxiety. Nothing. You end up wishing for some kind of emotions, anything would do heck even tears would be great but there aren’t any cause you ain’t sad. No sadness. 

The only fraction of emotion that you feel is doubt. You wonder and doubt whether you’re even alive. Because you are that numb.

So you try to read but you’re not interested, you try to write a story but for that you need emotions but there aren’t any, you open your laptop to watch a movie but you don’t feel like. 

Not only do you not feel any emotion, you don’t even feel like doing things that you love. 

Have you ever had a day where voices in your head are locked somewhere, you do occasionally hear a muffled scream begging you to do something but you cant make out the words and have no interest in even trying? 

Have you?

No emotion is the worst kind of emotion

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Dear Martians, Run Now…!!!!!

So we found water or at least some kind of solid proof of it presence on Mars. You know the 17 years old me, back in time, would have jumped and danced and even cried with happiness, but the 2015 me is just so worried about the repercussion of it.

What? What? What?

Well, finding water is really cool and awesome but we are “HUMANS” we believe in causing pain, destruction and every possible type of atrocities to those who wish to live in peace. We found water now we would move mountains to find life and then we would land there and effinly rule like we are ruling the sad little earth.

Step 1: Find Life

Step 2: Smile & Shake Hands

Step 3: Click a Dozen Selfies

Step 4: Punch in Face

Step 5: Ban Local Music, Religion, Culture and Put “We Mean No Harm” signs along with…

“Martians with brown or black color report to left, LGBT Martians apply to right, those belonging to following religions as listed below must restrict to certain rules and remember to smile and say WORLD PEACE for our media camera. “

When I read about a 16 year old girl being stabbed in a Pride Parade, I literally felt tears threatening me on a busy work day. All she did was be part of a peaceful pride parade celebrating the equality rights and one lunatic just walks in attacks innocent people. Shira Banki, who had all her life in front of her, lost her life because among us are people who refuse to understand that everyone deserves to live. I specially don’t get those who hurt others in name of religion because I ‘m pretty much sure God never created people for sake of hating and hurting.

3 years old Aylan, his brother and mom were not the only ones who died on that day or day before or day after. But he became the heart wrenching -rock solid proof of how war torn countries are tearing the basic fabric of humanity, causing pain by those throwing shells and mortars and by those who struggle to shelter the scared ones.

And today I read about a guy beaten to death in a small town for he was, according to rumors, having beef in a beef banned place. Well, so we the humans just killed him.

It never ends, the pain caused by us. It would never stop.

I just hope Martians would run away to another planet before we land, because we are incapable of harmony. Some of us at least are totally incapable of following ‘Live and Let Live’.

I have been so exhausted mentally lately that now everything gets on my nerves and I can’t seem to shake the stinging darkness of the world I’m living in. Sometimes I wonder if Happy Ending is really a thing, maybe it’s a myth.

Forgive me for I vent…

17 years old me: Dear God let there be life and water on Mars
30 Years old me: #LOL
Martians on Mars: BOP BEEP BOP BEEP BOP BOP BUPPP BOOOOPPPPP (Translation- Run effin Eartians found us. Dammit RUNNNNNN)

ALIEN

Dear Me-5-Years-From-Now,

Dear Me-5-Years-From-Now,

I don’t know if you and I are the same, because I’m definitely not what I was 5 years from today but I do hope you are somewhat close to being happy. Funny thing is I was never happy, not even when I think I was. I guess this is where we sing our anthem Born This Way. I, also, do hope you are still hooked to the headphones because if you are I know you are safe and you’ll make it through whatever there is 5 years from now.

It would be crazy if you are anything like what I’m today because it would mean my level of anxieties, fear and blues are just the same. No scope of decline. Please tell me, 5 years from now you have finally found a way to get up early in the morning, because I’m sure I would be a late night person even years from now. And I also hope, so hope, that you managed to travel. Please tell me, you are or were in NYC. Please say yes. Please. Please.

It’s not that things are bad right now, not really, but they are definitely at a blind turn. So, I can only wonder what and where I would be next year or 5 years down the line. Just hope, I’m still not in Gotham. That would be the saddest thing apart from many other things that could happen.

I don’t know why I’m talking to you today, guess it’s because I can’t stop wondering if things would ever change like good-change. Would I ever get to stop being Batman, will there ever be a day I would leave Gotham and what about true love? I guess, my probability of finding water on Mars is way more than finding true love on earth. So, I just hope if not love at least you would have travel stories or a new job adventures going on.

Happiness is just a word and I know even if you have some of the things that I dream about, or wish for, you’d still be not happy happy. That’s not your fault. We have been stained by the ache so bad; there is no detergent to wash it away. But, if you are traveling or doing something you love its almost being happy. Not getting panic attacks anymore is the closest to happiness you would ever be. That I know. More than anything, I wish you are no longer lying cause if you are then I guess you too would find yourself with a letter like this for the 10 years later version of me. I know you too would want to know what I want to know, if the hiding and crying has stopped or not.

Yesterday and Today were crazy days at Gotham, which made me wonder what have I earned or learned in past 8 years, in terms of the work thing. Personally, of course, past 8 years have given, taken and taught a lot.

Among all the questions of who and what I’m 5 years from now, I have to ask this…Are you still writing? Did you manage to find a way to share your stories? Dear me 5 years from now, please be whatever and whoever, just don’t give up on the stories in your head even if it’s just for your eyes, because these stories are the only thing that have kept me going along with few good people. So, I hope you still have your stories and those few good people with you. If you have, I know you are okay and I’m going to be okay whether things are not what you and I want.

Hoping and wishing best,

Little from 2015

P.S No matter what, just keep hanging on.

P.P.S If the voices in your head are still mean, ignore. Like I’m doing right now, while writing this post.

 

Recipe of me…!!!!

Mix few glasses of anger

With little swagger,

A jar of tears

Salty yet so clear,

A spoon of awesomeness

A bag full of emotional mess

Few cups of hopelessness,

Pain and sorrow

One box each

10-12 glasses of fear

Some scream some screech,

½ a cup of fault

All the parts

Of a finely shredded heart,

Garnish it with anxiety

& breathlessness,

Pinch of stress

And perfectly cut pieces

Of facelessness

emptiness

& lies,

Stir it neatly

And you might

get it right,

The recipe

Of creating me….

 

 

 

Step one, step two, step three…step thousand & eighty three…!!!!

She has been walking

For hours

For years

All alone

For miles

Yet its the same

The road

The sky

The load

Of her emptiness

Is her only

Companion

Her Oblivion

Is her only friend

So much walking

She finds herself

At same place

With no grace

She is a face

With questions

She throws

At the birds

The crows

The wall

The sky

And then few more steps

Few more turns

She stifles a cry

Drags herself

From left to right

All alone

With heart so

Heavy like a stone

She is bitter

Punished by her own existence

To her

Nothing makes sense

Where and when it all began

The plan

Of universe

The mess

She has fallen into

Step one

Step two

Step one thousand & eighty three

When will she get free

For she wants no more

Of hopes and words

Sticks and stones and swords

Mean nothing to her

For

She fears the unseen

She wince

In pain

I quit she says

Yet she stays

On the road to nowhere

So much of moving

Still is here

She never moved

She never will

Standing still

Even after years of struggle

In the misty road of pain

She snuggles

up to herself in vain

How long has she been walking?

How long has this sadness been stalking?

She asks once more

She has lost the count and score

It comes back to

Step one

Step two

Some more tears

Another silent sniffle

And step three

Step four

Hundred more

To go

Thousands more to count

While she continues to mount…!!!

Fly me to the moon…!!!!

Last two days were beautiful and I’m glad I fought the fear of being around people. Gotham city and its people went for a trip and Batman was invited too. Yep! We had an office trekking trip and I after spending days singing ‘To go or not to go’ finally said yes and went.

Have black and blue marks over my arms, got stung by thorns while trekking and slipping hundred times and have a twisted ankle that hurts bad…but it was all worth cause I had an amazing time. I walked out of my comfort zone, went trekking with people I usually say Hi and nothing more, stayed in tents, went hiking and trekking and was away from my mp3 player, my novel, my coffee and my internet for two whole days.

I missed two things, a friend because I wish she could see the place and I missed my music. Yes I miss music even when I’m having time of my life. But truth is I want to do more of such stuff, escape the crazy world and drive down to mountains and live at a remote but highly beautiful place where all you can hear is sound of wind and your own heart beat.

Even as I sit with a bandage on my foot, I can’t stop wondering when I would get a break like this again.

During the trek there came a moment when everyone went ahead and I stood listening to the sound of wind all alone. We were on a mountain and the wind was blowing crazy, so I stood while everyone kept walking. It was beautiful, scary but beautiful and for a second I wished I could just sit down there let everyone go back and leave me. I wanted to stay back there forever. Because despite the fact that I almost got lost on top of a mountain surrounded by trees, and nothing but trees, and super strong wind that sounded like waterfall, I felt so safe.

I was so far away from things I fear. I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t.

I don’t miss the fun or the place, I miss that one moment when i felt the wind through me and all i could think about was the fact that I felt no fear. I miss being not afraid.

Some people are like cover songs…beautiful in their own way!!!!

 

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.