To my precious followers

I’m closing down this blog and will be opening a new and different one. There is this person in my life that keeps stalking me and I’ve decided for both our sakes it’s best that I make changes right now when things are small and no so ugly-

SO,

Those who wanna keep reading what I jot down leave a comment and I’ll send you the link to my new rant blog. Thank you!

Wish you all good health and life.

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What would I be

I’m tired.
I’m tired- I didn’t want things. I hid from myself, I slept too much and I was weak. I couldn’t wake up and wandered in daydreams.

I wonder a part of me that I’m with no more. Through muffled breathes that wept; the part that got me up from the floors. – Now,

A throb lies under my skin, I’m buried in this floor. I hear thuds and I imagine vividly- a glint, a hole I’m scratching for. Maybe my silence would scream, But I am stone cold.

Sometimes I wonder if
I’m digging on the wrong end.
Maybe I’ve been lying to myself,
A corpse throbbing under concrete.

What would be heard?
Maybe I’ve been lying to myself.
Muffled ambience it is
When my throb is heard

Where would I be?
Maybe I’ve been lying to myself
Above Or under this floor?

Without that part of me.

—–
To those that buried me.

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Thoughts-

Don’t say yes if you can’t say no- Because your yes wouldn’t be worth it.

Weep when you want to, Leave when you want to- Everybody will judge you regardless and most of the judgement is just projection.

Welcome and accept compliments even if you think you’re not worthy- Because reflecting, give and take, or denial is the start of your journey in ‘no one cares land’.

Be grateful of what you have even if you’re at the rock bottom- Because every time you’re playing the victim card you’re denying that you would do something about it.

Being sad and depressed is okay- But giving up and staying there isn’t, Seasons have to change.

If you miss someone let them know and set yourself free- It’s funny how someone else can cage you with absence.

Accept help and ground your ego- Because ego doesn’t learn to fly.

It’s okay to feel anger and express it- it’s not okay to keep it enclosed; Be an open door not a doormat.

Finally,

Forgive and Apologize- Because you don’t need to hurt yourself and you don’t have to give up on your values, respectively.

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“What’s on your mind?”

“Okay, here’s a new rule, from now on you are not allowed to say nothing”

You told me when I was staring out from the window of my thoughts- scenes passed by, I looked at you and tried to pick out a thought from my broken net.

“I noticed your ass when you came back- it’s huge”

I know I must have made you feel insecure- but was the only cheap comic line I could throw out, Because you see- I often hitch a ride to nowhere, where I don’t need control. How do I explain- when you’re around I’m in an orbit.

–Right now

I see you sleeping and I listened to the song you sent, how do I explain that beat of my heart hit hard at the “Good bye”.

Because in my dreams you’re there and then you disappear, I wake up incomplete. I can’t move- I’m afraid, if I close my eyes I won’t see you again.

I wish I could hold your cheeks and lock your gaze with mine- and hope that you can see how lonely and dark it is on this moon, but I know It can’t come true- when you’re around the wind is warm, I’m holding your hand, and the scenes just pass by.

Because in my mind,

I want to stay there, see the stars burn, the world fade as I hold on to your hand. I want my heart to sync on the counts of your breath and have you sleep on top of my chest. I want to grow old and feel the touch of your hair with my wrinkled hand. I want to stay alive so that I could take a journey on that very train where I kiss you-

and the scenes just pass by.

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Storm (N) (Short)

Upon dead water and crackled timber
slicing through the stars, the sea
licking on my tips- I hankered
on the glimmering seafloor; you were
a storm,

I wanted for the wind.

1

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Just busy.

Okay- Okay,

Well I don’t know why I’m posting this, but I know I’m restless now. There are some big things coming up on my path and I’m getting impatient, and incipiently my need to write has jumped off of something very high- Suicide? No, just that it loves to sky dive. And I find myself busy- TOO busy these days that I feel sad to not being able to write.

There have been a lot of things that passed by and happen to trigger a narrative in my mind- I came across the usage of ‘Hate’,

lets poke at that,

Hate you see is a strong word but thrown around so irresponsibly that the taste of the word seems bland. I suppose entertainment industry is to blame for that- but anyhow, Hate. I find that people use it for every negative statement- To express dislike, frustration and heck even annoyance.

What is Hate?
The dictionary “to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility” – Makes sense? No? Okay- To put it short- If you’re using ‘Hate’ to express your dislike for chocolates or bunnies, or when someone/something is annoying you, and if someone you despise and you feel the need to express it with “I hate him/her”- You’re being dramatic.

So where is it used you ask?
Well I’ll give you a clue and the clue is when your blood is pumping hot iron or you’re gritting like a gray wolf and all seems red, constant and chronic- that’s where you can use the word ‘Hate’.

You might say ‘Anger’ is the right word and I agree it can be- But anger is short-lived but hate can be immortal. Hate is a fire that knows no friend, the sum of unrequited flames that burn down the forest; Hate- is a choice And I’ll let you in on a secret- The truest form of hate doesn’t have a face, it doesn’t escape your lips willingly and it can live forever.

And another thing that bugged me-


It’s misleading even when viewed from a simultaneous prospective because you can love someone for the good in them but you can also hate the bad in them- simultaneously, or you can hate them and then you love them and then hate them again; And you can simply hate them because you ‘still’ love them. It’s called the ‘love/hate relationship’.

Regardless of emotional dissonance- You most certainly cannot love someone for breaking your heart.

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February 10th, 2015.

Numbers are easy to remember and so are some words. We use them everyday- But some words and numbers have meanings attached to them, subjective experiences and objective observations. Like the day and the month you were born and the number of the year, a time when something amazing happened or something terrible. Memories.

I was going to bed that I saw the date and it was one of those moments when I forget what day or date I am in, 10th of February and my heart hit 140, like it did on the 3rd, on the 5th and the 7th. I had thought to myself not to think of it but today the things that I am not sure to share with myself or others, roamed free.

“You left your chapstick here.”

I had found it cleaning my room, ‘Music’ was in the name. You were frustrated when you realized and I wondered how did it escape you unnoticed- now and then it was next to your lips. I had told you that I’ll have it sent back to you but what you told me after hit supernova in my chest. I remembered 2010 and I remembered you breaking down after the first time we met.

“Throw it in the trash.”

When I left for the bus I lied to step dad, I told him I had forgotten the wallet but I wasn’t sure if I had your lip balm. It had traveled 210 miles with me but I sneaked it in your closet. I’ll never know why I was scared and why moments like these leave marks on me, the hickeys you gave only stayed for a week and that was an irony.

“Remember Sakina?”

I kept looking ahead and from my shoulder I could see you staring at me, your legs folded up in the seat and I believed I was dreaming- you looked at me the same way the first time we traveled together. I turned to you and only a nod escaped me. I wanted to tell you more but I didn’t when you leaned on my shoulder and held my hand. I remembered you told me they were soft.

We took our first pictures together and you didn’t like yourself in them- it was a first, that I didn’t care and thought you looked lovely- that was my core, it was my bias.

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

It was also a first when I realized what a breakdown meant, Some people kept crying and others kept screaming. It felt good to lose control, my body wasn’t mine anymore. And from then on out it felt bad- “You don’t have to scream” I don’t hope that I’ll forget those words. I knew I had jumped from a ridge and doomed myself but I was alive when you slept and I sat next to you. I tried to trace my hand on your cheek but my fingers kept burning, the tears didn’t make it easy- I hid a note in your notebook and then I held you.

I didn’t dump that locket, I hid it because I was hurt.

“Your birthday is coming soon”

Money, should there be words to describe currency? You texted me your headphones had broken and you didn’t want to spend money on good ones. I told you your birthday was coming soon, you shock your head and smiled and then you asked me a question you had asked before,

“Why do you do things like that?”

I wish I could have just texted back “February 10th.”

—–

Sometimes I wonder leaning my head against the wall and weep but before anything I remember your hands reach mine, the look in your eyes- our first waltz. I remember your scent on me but I can’t remember your voice. I remember the lovely look on your face when you woke up on our last morning. Some nights my fingers trace over the sheets, others nights you’re in my dreams. Everyday I see numbers and words and everything you are brushes past me.

It’s 10th of February.It’s your birthday.
And I hope today not single moment passes you by without happiness.

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January 20th, 2014

I was going through my tumblr, I found this. I had forgotten about it- Made me happy.

Today I went to a local shop and there was this driver with a bunch of school kids and they were all getting treats from their pocket-money and the driver was coordinating them to buy stuff, so the shop keeper turns to this kid who is also involved in viewing the treats with enthusiasm of 5-year-old but he isn’t picking anything and he asks him

“Why aren’t you buying anything?”

The kid answered that he doesn’t have any pocket-money today which the driver also mimicked, the kid had this genuine smile, you know the one where you’re smiling with every ounce of positiveness and you’re aware you are not gonna get something you want but it’s okay.

So the kids finished their mini shopping and that kid just stayed there until the driver told him to get to his seat, observing this made me visit my childhood.

It took me awhile but I managed to poke the driver on the shoulder and asked him to have the kid back and have him buy anything he wanted and I would pay for the charge, I did and made my escape before anyone could turn to me and give me attention because I didn’t want any. I just wanted that the kid didn’t feel left out,

Because I was very lucky when I was a kid, my dad would take me to a candy shop after school and let me pick my treats and I also had a driver once who’d stop by fruit stands and buy me a different fruit everyday back home.

I wish I could remember such things everyday.

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What I didn’t expect.

12 : 20 AM, electricity is out and so is the backup, it had rained- The kind that I don’t like, the dull sound of the raindrops, the air without the smell and the clouds without the thunder- a passionless night- it is boring, I’m hungry and I keep staring at my phone.

“Should I order something? Or Should I cook”

Of course I can’t cook, I don’t see in the dark and everything is out- so I gave up and dialed the number,

“Hello, Thank you for calling Sam’s.”
“Hey, Is it possible that you can make a delivery?”
“Um no sir, We can’t tonight.”
“Alright, Thank you.”

Of course they can’t make a delivery- It rained and it’s almost closing time. I sighed and stared in the darkness. It was odd sitting there without my thoughts, usually I would be surrounded by my past or something I’m infatuated with but the only thing on mind was to get something in my belly.

“Maybe the shawarma vendor is open?”

The perfect excuse to get out of this morbid moment- I took the house key, emptied my wallet except of the 500 rupee note and I give my phone a thought, I slip it in my pocket- It’s old and the state of it will make a good joke on the one who mugs me. I head out.

The street is a pathetic mess, I feel like a rat crawling in a sewer, dodging puddles, jumping on slabs until I reach a puddle I can’t dodge, a utility pole is staring at me, it’s shining like it’s on a stage in spot light, I can almost feel it smirking as it flirts with me- It’s fine that I get electrocuted but it’s not fine when I’m hungry. I decide to take its support.

‘Bzzt’

I lean down instinctively- I’m not electrocuted but there are sparks coming down, the pole on the other side didn’t like me. I shrugged and continued on my quest, again trying my best not to slip and land on my nose and of course keeping my cool which was very important.

I hear a faint growl and I look ahead to see a dog eying me down, I keep walking straight and it turns in the alley leaving growls behind- I check myself as I keep walking, there is nothing on me tonight, I start to wonder if I’m going to get rabies next – as I walk next to the alley, the dog standing there giving me a nasty look and I can feel my body getting ready, adrenaline is kicking in but I pass the alley, I look back from my shoulder – The dog is back out on the road staring at me.

I reach the vendor and it’s open, there are three boys- all about the age of 14.

Aik Shawarma kerdo.” (Do one Shawarma.)[No pun intended.]

The boy nods and starts heating the wrap- There is an old man nearby staring at the stove, his eyes are fixed on the wrap. I wonder if I should ask him if he wants one too but before I can utter my thought he reaches in one of the glass stalls and takes out some fries.

Kitnai ka hai?” (How much is it?)
50 rupai ka.” (50 rupees.)

I hand out 50 rupees he isn’t done yet- but when he’s done and he hands me the delicious wrap- He gets cheeky and asks me again if I had paid- I was the only customer the whole time.

As I’m walking back home and I notice a boy walking ahead of me, In his hands are a few inflatable animal toys, he looks like a 4th grader- he shouldn’t be walking alone at this time. I pick up my speed curiously- He notices me behind him and he notices I’m looking at him. I speak out before I spook him,

Kya Ap yeh bechtai ho?” (Do you sell these?)
Gee, Ap logai bhai?” (Yes, Will you get one brother?)
Haan.” (Yes)
Ap konsa lai gai? Yeh wala ya ba-batakh wala?” (Which one will you take? This one or the d-duck)
Batakh wala- kitna ka hai” (The duck one, how much is it?)
40 rupai ka- mei nai yeh 30 rupai ka liya, aj sara din kisi nai nahi kuch khirada, aphi-
(40 rupees – I got it for 30 rupees, no one bought anything today, you’re-)

Before he could finish I handed him a 100 rupee note and asked him if it was okay- He took a few seconds and then he nodded, he handed me the inflatable duck and we both started to walk- I was still curious and I asked him,

Ap ka name kya hai?” (What is your name?)
Mera name- Mohammad Haris.” (My name- Mohammad Haris.)
“Haris?”
“Gee, Haris.” (Yes, Haris.)
“Mera name bhi Haris hai.” (My name is also Haris.)

A smile grew on my face and Haris was smiling too- We both were experiencing a moment in wonderland- the thunder had struck twice. I asked him where he was from and he told me- I wanted to walk with him to his home but he had doubled his pace, I stopped at my turn but Haris kept walking straight.

I looked at my shawarma and then looked back at him, I shouted out if he had eaten something today- He had started to run now and He yelled back he did. I stood there, wondered if he thought I was going to abduct him, I kept looking at him and then I went back home-

I was expecting things tonight; But I didn’t expect this in this dog eat dog world.

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The things that matter [1] (Gray Jersey)

I have a gray jersey for the winters, made of wool- a full zip up. My mother bought it for me when I was 14. Back then they were a trending fashion but my jersey was distinct. It didn’t have the ‘Diesel’ tag on the hem or anywhere else for that matter- it didn’t belong to any brand, It was unique like that and It was meant for me.

I remember a friend asked me about it because he wanted one too, and I had told him I didn’t know because my mum had bought it for me. Few days later he came up to me wearing a gray one too and told me it was easy to find and that’s how I came to know it was trending. But then like young competing bucks we took them off and compared to see which one looked better and it didn’t take long for my jersey to sway and win, my jersey had a softer and graceful tone to its color.

A few weeks later everyone was wearing one, black, gray purple, maroon and blue. It felt funny to see every other person ready for cozy display but each and every one of them was wearing a Diesel tag. You see they all looked generic and soon the fad got boring- Diesel’s reign had ended. But unlike the fad the journey of my jersey didn’t end there. Because for every winter after my hands where hiding in it’s sleeves; And it wasn’t late that it hung on to me into my bed.

When spring would bloom I would tug up the sleeves and when winter would return it would take me in a warm fuzzy hug, and somewhere in one those seasons I realized I was in love with it. It was worn and it was old but my heart was set and It remained gold, my hands felt safe in its loose hold.

But soon jealousy grew in the heart of time and 10 years had passed, a tear here and a few threads there, one day my mother saw me wearing it and said,

“I want to make a duster out of it”

I smiled and shook my head, and then I wondered if she remembered what it felt like when she bought it.

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