Running Into Oblivion

Sometimes, we need to push ourselves. The push could be just a little jerk or it could be so violent the we end up putting all our efforts to make us move, move. Move. Get going! Go, start running. What the hell are you still doing here? What more incentive you need to start running than to know that staying in this place is only going to bring you more darkness and eventually you'll end up getting sucked up into this little limbo that's called miracles. Cause believe me, the miracle start to happen once you decide you get hold of yourself. We are accustomed to wait for good things to happen to us. Why can't be it just other way round, huh? Why can't we happen to good things? Who the hell are they to decide when to happen to us and when not? Why can't i take hold of my happiness in my hand? Cause you know what? its hard. Its so fucking hard to get hold of that one thing that defines perfect life. Happiness. We all need it and we all forget it that it exists within us behind all those curtains that makes us imagine it to be invisible. We search for it everywhere. In people, in movies, in distractions, in hangouts beside oceans at middle of the night, in lover's eyes, in his words, in his silent indirect confession of feelings, in silence between two eyes, in cakes, in music, at cleaning our rooms, at washing our soul with religion, at so many things but we forget to look for it within ourselves. All we need to do is stand up in front of the mirror and look at the reflection. That's us, that's me. 22. Bold. Young and pretty. I might never be like this again. Never. These hands might start to wrinkle up and my temples starts to wither. Do i need to wait for that time to come to realize that i should have loved myself now? At this moment when i had everything and yet i was searching for it everywhere but myself?

I don't know what i wrote above. But this is what i wanted to write and i did.

It may Rain or Not

One day, I will be thirty five. Strolling around a grocery store like just another day, looking for appropriate pack of fat-free milk for me and him, and ofcourse full cream for my little ones. And perhaps, in all that mystery of staying young and look beautiful to at least myself, someone from the corner of the same section be staring at me. The stare that would be filled with surprise, longing, delight and a wholesome of regrets. Maybe they would not be regrets but the what-ifs. Or maybe the stare would contain the same electricity which we once had when we were young and shiny. Or.. maybe that stare would just simply be a stare filled with respect, reminding oneself that we did the right thing, that we chose the best of what options we had and that we made it through till that day. Quite easily. And probably the wrinkles cracking on my temples would remind of the time when I used to laugh the loudest at some of the stupid jokes we used to find so humorous in those day, or maybe it was just us who used to understand and squeeze the humor off them. The amount of concentration I would be giving to choosing the right milk pack for me would remind of how patient I was and perhaps, it stayed with me and got engraved in myself. The patience to make the right choice at the end, and which I did. The patience which made me go through lots of times but at then end, it all went alright. And my patience paid off well. And the satisfying feeling once I have chosen the right milk pack illuminating my face would take the time back to when things seemed uncertain to me, when everything seemed uncertain to us, when nothing was wrong and yet not right, and still the step forward into one direction seemed wrong but I forced myself to accept it as right. We did. And look what happened after all these years.

Maybe you would come closer to me, hold my hand and tell me that I am choosing the right milk for our children and for us. And maybe I'd look at you with all the uncertainty as if you know nothing and i do everything and go with it because years back you told me the same thing, and everything turned out to be alright and we ended up buying groceries together in life.

Or.. nothing of that would happen. And you'd silently just turn around and wrap that moment in your heart and make it yours forever. Thinking that maybe whatever happened was right and I would buy the right milk for my children and him. Thinking that maybe it happened for all the right reasons and we never were supposed to buy all that together.

But I know. I would know exactly what we had and what we did. And what was right and what was not. Its just the matter of me turning thirty five and i'd have answers to all those doubts you might have forever. 

Blind Road

I am running. I don't know what I am running from but I know what I am trying to run to. But it doesn't seem to come any nearer as the time passes. Rather it seems to be becoming more blurry and uncertain. I have stopped caring about the path I am running on or whether its right or wrong since I am so focused upon the destination of this whole race that sometimes I forget I am losing my energy and strength to carry on with this anymore. I don't care and I keep running.

Why? I just don't want to have any regrets in my life. I just don't to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have happened in my last stroke of strength have I had not stopped running? Would I have reached my beautiful destination?

I have long stopped weaving future for myself when I saw Him doing the impossible for me. I remember when I decided to run back in April, I knew I would not be able to carry it till today but God gave me strength. Maybe because I am running towards the right direction? Or is it because He wants to me to learn something by trying so hard and still not getting it?

Either way, I'll tell you what happened with me when i'll fall. If i'll fall. 

That Golden Rose

I wonder what life had been like if there was nothing as such as called love. People would live, no one would care. People would win, no on would care. People would lose, no one would care. People would die.. and no one would care. Would not it have been a blessing? Or no, it would have been a curse?

I have no idea why I am talking about all this right now, but I hate to see people crying when someone leaves. Because I cannot stop crying too. If we hadn't loved them, we would not have to feel the agony of losing them as well. Its like the more you love, the more space you are offering to pain to house in you. My two dear friends lost their most beloved ones in the hands of this merciless life and I am speechless, because I cannot do anything. I cannot bring them back and I cannot tell them to not cry cause they have to. Cause I am crying too. I see them remembering the last of the moments they talked to their loved ones. What they were wearing. What they used to do, what they used to smile at, what this and what that.

It just took a moment for them to turn from 'is' to 'was'. From 'now' to 'then'. From 'they will' to 'never ever'.

What a bitter-sweet emotion, love is. What a unpredictable story, life is. 

The Clock In My Mind

Its Tuesday night and I am hovering over my Facebook/Outlook and what not just because I feel like talking to someone. Does that ever happen to you that you want something with so much desperation and all of a sudden you realize you just cannot have it? Something or someone you want so desperately and then you realize that this is not going to happen. Like realizing that your dead friend is never going to come back? Or you will not be able to experience the "first" of everything all your life? Its sad you know, how time vanishes so quickly and give us so little time to make the best out of the little moments that we just love to spend. I do not know why they go away so quickly. Does happiness has something to do with leaving one not getting enough of it?

I am not sure what I am writing right now because I feel like a Zombie yearning for the perfect happiness to come and last for eternity. Sometimes I cannot even write what I want to over here just because I know some people I know are reading this. But then sometimes, I just want to write and vent what's going on in my mind and heart deep inside. Why would someone not want you to go away but stay and then go away themselves? Why do people like to see people waiting for them and they do not want to be on the waiting end? Why sometimes people make things sound so easy however for the other one, it might take the life out of him?

That's because they do not care enough. And that's also because we do not care enough. I realized one thing after being friends with people from every mindset that everything vanishes after a while. Maybe it be love or the friendship-urge. It all has to evaporate in the gush of moist wind one day and then the equation stays unbalanced because one is tired of not being satisfied and other is tired of trying to satisfy other. And after all the crap, I learned that..

A Cigarette Not Smoked.

..did you ever wonder if there was a way we could cancel the days we just did not feel like living? Days which gives you spasms and days which just do not pass quickly when you just want to be done with them. And all of a sudden those days come which are too good and they are gone in blink of an eye!
I never get this whole psyche of nature, if you ask me. Today while I was scribbling through my life since I just wanted to PASS my time and live the good days again where I am all happy and satisfied with myself, I hit a text to a friend, telling her about my depressed and conical situation. And she suggested me to just write something. Hence I am back here, on my blog which I left some months back and never cared to look back. I came here, and I felt as if i came back to a deserted house I abandoned some ages ago.

The main reason why I am writing this post is to ask and to tell that sometimes, it's just too easy to let go of somethings and sometimes? ITS SO HARD. I am going through the latter patch, actually. I know letting go would just help me in moving forward but I just don't want to let go. I never let go, thats the problem with me even when the other person is pulling his hand back, I just won't let go cause It would just in fill me the distrust of not giving it another chance. Maybe I am too hopeful for them or maybe for them I am too hopeless. I don't know what or why exactly I am writing this post but I hate myself for being such a keeper of things which I should just burn and get done with them. Like that cigarette that I have hidden in my envelope for like 8months now. Or that picture in which a Belgian guy spontaneously put a hand around my shoulder and clicked a picture which for me was the most outrageous thing (but i dont blame him, courtesy his culture). Or those wrappers of Fruitella that this guy I badly fell in love with, once gave me, two years back. Or those cheap cards my friends gave me on Eids/Birthdays from school. Or.. perhaps my best friend who just stopped caring for me eventually..

I know I sound sad but I am not. I don't want to be sad. I am not sad.. or maybe I look like one? Or maybe I am one. I don't know. I talk to myself when I cannot talk to that one person who is just so busy vacationing in some part of the country, oblivion of the fact that it's just so hard for me seeing that even when I didn't let go of things.. someone let go of me.

A Paralysed Moment.

And how subtle it is that we realize our true feelings for others, right at the moment when they are about to say 'Good Bye'. It almost kills you. It killed me, too. 

 

Of Daylight, FrenchFries & PrankCalls.

I have three quite serious, but somehow amusing stories to share with you today. I had been an idiot for the past couple of weeks reading each beautiful post written by PeeVee, Soumya and Red but still not commenting. Anyways, I am done screwing up things for myself. There are certain fractions of my life going all wrong and uncertain but I am holding onto hope and life. I am holding onto that one streak of light kissing my face while travelling through the chunks of mountain and stones, down where I am standing.

1) At times, we like things without knowing certain facts about them. Cause skimming through them will only create sense of reluctance against those particular things. Like, last week I went to this Dhaba cum Chai Shop in my university who's French fries I LOVE. I've been eating and living on those fries for like a year now until last week I discovered something and I was both astonished and amused by looking at the strength of my stomach muscles to adsorb soap. I went to ChaCha jee to order a plate of fires when I saw him washing fries with SOAP.
I was 0.0
Chacha jee sensed my presence and was *.*
I smiled and still ordered. Cause maybe I am in love with the taste of those fries BECAUSE they contain Zohra Hall (Hostel's name) ka pure-scent-free soap? But the moment my friends came to know about it, they stopped ordering. And hence my visits to hostel have been shortened eversince. See, it would have been better off without knowing that they were too clean to be rather kept as souvenirs. Do you wonder why Theila chaat tastes so mesmerizing or perhaps the shami burger of 40rs? Sometimes, unhygienic food could be so much more tasteful than chicken jalapeño burger from Hardees. Here's to soup wale chips! <3

2) Today, a very odd incident happened and as much as I don't want to tell you, I still want to write about it. I have gone too bold or say rough in the past year. Temperament wise as well nature. So, Mom is driving at 80km/h on the public road when a guy comes by my side and whistles. He's on this bike with a friend and feigning his extra drooling-upon smile while he throws inside this cheap scrap of some matchbox with his number written over it. Now, I don't know what woke up in me all of a sudden that I pulled down my side mirror, threw back his so called number-ki-parchi on his face and yelled "Saaley Kuttey!" on his face. Immediately at that moment I realized, I astonished three people.

a) My Mom, who was blank, with her jaw dropped.
b) The guy (who probably gave me HIS number) with his teeth shut down.
c) The guy (riding the bike) looking at me and wondering which breed of women I belong to.

I have gone very rough. I need to polish some parts of my persona else the time is not too far when I would be whistling to people and throwing numbers on them on B&H scraps.

3) Anyways, sometimes, pranks calls are the irritating ones and I end up picking up and not speaking cause I love wasting people's money who have too much of it to spend on strangers. But at times, they get over your head and all you want is to pick it and and yell at them on the top of your lungs cause mistakenly they called at wrong time; time when your boyfriend was about to call, when you were waiting for your result, when you were on the verge of dozing off after a long day OR when you just got done fighting with a very close friend over issues absurd and unexplainable and when you had just wasted a tear or two cause of horrible exam as well. The same happened yesterday. This guy called. Called again. CALLED AGAIN and i picked up:

Me: ...
TheKEWLguy: Haaailoooo..
Me: Je?
TheKEWLguy: Kesi ho?
Me: Dekho, kia masla hai. Kis'se baat karni hai tumhe?! 
TheKEWLguy: Aaaaaapse? 
Me: TUMHARI SHAKAL BAQWAAAS HAI!
TheKEWLguy: Aaaaapne meri shakal dekhi hai?
Me: DEKHO APNE BAAP KI ZINDAGI PYAARI HAI TOU DAFA HOJAO!
TheKEWLguy: Aaaaap tou ghusa hogai?
Me: Acha Asfand, Imran Khan ki call ayi hai. Aap jao piyaaz bhecho. 

I mean, serrrriously?

Please don't call me while I am weeping. You might come to hear indecent things about your face.

Yes I have gone both random and rough. Every night I get lectures from my dad to bring soft edge to my nature but what's my fault if I bluntly reply to guys who think, they can confuse us or harass us by their moves? I know I need to shave my tongue a little and my head too. But I won't stop reminding these prank callers that their Dads' lives in danger in case they 'try' to tease me.

P.s: I had 85 followers. They decreased to 82. Then 81. 79. Remained 79 for tow days and then 78. Today, I find 80 again. Wow.
P.P.S: Happy Eid to everyone. :D