Unloving Someone

Can you, can anyone stop loving a person at any point of time? Like, “I am done, I don’t like this person anymore?”

Whoever it is, a friend, a lover, a teacher, one can never unlove. One can never tell oneself to not feel for someone.

And moving on? We just stop expecting out of people. Stop waiting. Quit all our hopes and accept the way we want someone might just remain a fantasy.

We don’t stop loving. We stop expecting any scenario with the person, anything together.

That’s how we move on!

Free of the Stabbing Pain

You know that fancy,
Having a broken glass in hand
Sharp, and striking it through the wrist
Over and over again!

Tearing everything in the path
The threads, the skin, veins
Gushing blood and moments of pain
Counting till the last

Visions of all the was
the knives that stabbed
cups, full of poison
and that helplessness…

And now free, free of everything
Free of all the stabbing pain

 

Looking for Solace!

Have you ever felt like the skies came crashing onto you? Like everything just went haywire? Like everything that one had planned was splashed with water and now all the color, the ink, the plans are washed out? Like everything that ever mattered no more exists?

What does one do? How does one fix the skies? How to put the broken pieces up there again? What glue to use? Would the pieces stick to each other like before? Would the glue be strong enough to prevent it from falling again? Would this pain be just once in a lifetime experience? Could it be?

And on top of everything, there are these people called writers. Overtly emotional. Always on the verge of tears. Broken with the slightest touch and hurt by a pinprick. What do such people do? Where do they find their solace, their peace? Is there anything like peace for them?

Is there solace?

Numbness

Over the past few days, in many of our conversations, I was asked whether I was hurt. Whether what was said didn’t go well with me. Whether it was offending. Or angered me. For that matter provoked any reaction within me.

Somehow nothing anyone said had any effect, any impact on me. As if nothing mattered. As if nothing was said in the first place.

Had I attained maturity? Or is it some other level of numbness? Numb to the extent that nothing pricks, nothing causes a reaction, nothing stirs me up! Why?

I remember in my childhood my sister was not ticklish and I used to call her inert. After all these years, am even I insert? Non-indulging. Not feeling.

Have I lost my neurons?

Have I internalized and normalized everything to the extent that nothing matters anymore?

What have I done to me?

I am Fine

When we first introduce children to questions and how to answer them, one of the first questions is “How are you?”

And an obvious answer that is taught is “I am fine”.

Over the years this becomes so much of a habit, fine, that we forget we can feel otherwise too. We feel lots of things, we do lots of things and hide them up behind a ‘fine’. Why?

Why did anyone not tell the kids how to express themselves? How they should express truth, and let emotions out rather than bolt them up behind the door of “I am fine.”

A person can be so so much more than just fine.

Let us all be that person behind this fine. Let us be us!

Misunderstandings…

Control, Behaviour, Dominance
Understanding, Divergence
Sadism…

The act, Satisfaction, Urge
Pulling the string
Reason

Judgements, Rulings, Case Study
Ah! The stab of words
The loss of inner beauty

That hope in eyes
That shattered voice
That sudden end of story!

Passive Aggressiveness

All life through they taught how one should behave. How it was important to respect elders, seniors. And how maintaining a low tone and containing your disagreement is a way of showing this respect.

Did any of those realise they were teaching kids to bottle up emotions? Hide their true feelings? They were teaching, training them to use a paint brush, to put up a mask. Why did the world have problems with real?

What would happen if a child openly disagreed with his parents? “Dad, I don’t want to pursue science. I love commerce.” How does this simple admission hamper respect or relation? More so, it would help them understand each other.

But we so want to control everything that we forget where we should and where we should not talk. Some things are personal. Very close to heart. And when someone else takes away the right to express it, exercise it or pursue it, we change. We either revolt, blow up, throw up arms in protest, “This is what I want and I won’t bend”, or we bottle up. Keep emotions to oneself. Put a fake mask of happiness and do as told.

No doubt this mask makes everyone else happy. But has anyone ever thought how it impacts the person? How a lost dream and a fake smile kill him. Everyday!

This pushes one to a new zone, a mentality. Passive Aggressive Behaviour. Actively they don’t show their disagreement. Ah! Who listens either way. But passively they make sure they avenge themselves. Everything behind a mask of agreement and respect.
If we imagine scolding a child and that child breaks your favourite mug, “Oops! It dropped out of my hands”. While we mourn the loss, the child enjoys. Tit for tat.

Ah! And how many times have we been asked to do something we don’t want to. “Is it done yet?” “Ah! I am working on it. Just that it won’t happen.” We are not born procrastinators, we tend to acquire the trait on demand.

Though we see everyone calling sarcasm a sign of high IQ, it again is passive aggression. Just hidden underneath a translucent veil of humour. Sharp and ready to sting.
But at the end why should there be any need of such behaviour? Why should someone ever feel the need of a mask, a paint brush. Why should anyone ever do something just to please people?

Why care for respect and fear when it can drive you to such fatal behaviour. Once this behaviour was listed as a mental disorder. But so many people depict this tendency that now it is merely behaviour.

Why should there be passive aggression at all? Why not be and let others be real?

 

Mine!

I see the Beloved
Joy
Indulgence

Somehow a name escapes
Someone on his mind
I turn mad

Ablaze,
How someone could adore his lips
Unbearable

I take a dagger
Confronting
Wound her through and through

A dull ache, I check
My wounds oozing blood
I kill myself

Harboured Love

When we love someone, we tend to think of them as close to us. And if possible, we tend to keep them physically close. Within eyesight. Separation and distance seem some kind of a barrier. As if the distance were going to decrease the love, or have an impact on it in some way.

But do we ever consider that the one whom we love might be happier somewhere else? Maybe his desires, dreams where not the proximity we usually tend to maintain? Maybe they have different goals for themselves than what we assume.

When we love someone we do not merely love them for our own sake. We can’t be happy by merely the physical proximity if they aren’t equally happy about it. For love doesn’t captivate it lets you free, happy.

And yet, when someone tries to do something which might take them farther from us, we resist. Even though we know how important or crucial it may be for them, or how much they desire this, we resist. In love, we tend to be selfish.

And as such when someone says that want to die, end their life we resist. We tend to show them the brighter side and convince them to change their mind. We tend to tell them how beautiful life can be or what miracles future may reveal. But in order to save our love we tend to overlook their ordeal.

We tend to forget their issues, their pain. For when a  quadriplegic asks for euthanasia or a trip to Dignitas we tend to feel offended, destroyed. We think they are being selfish. But we do not realise their situation. How they must be feeling one day walking and another day suddenly finding themselves crippled. Of being dependent on someone all the time however trivial the job. How sore they must be and how bored by being in the same place, a chair or a bed, not even able to move a muscle to bring oneself comfort.

We believe we can see them wither away in pain but not let them just die in peace. We expect them to fight their health issues and go through traumatic hospital procedures just because we cannot endure their absence in our lives. We can see them in pain, but not happily dead!

For love does not mean merely holding on and sticking together. It meaning letting go for the sake of other’s happiness. Love is selfless, and when you reject someone’s  plea to freedom, whether physical or emotional, you deny love.

For it is better to die with pride than to look into eyes full of pity.