Tag Archives: pain

Life’s ways!

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Couple of years ago, I took the low road and succumbed to the easy way out.

We all do that, on day to day basis, don’t we? and mostly there is no harm done. However in my case, I made my situation worse and took another friend down along with me. While the experience itself was painful, shattering and stained with lots of guilty tears, It helped me shape into who I am today and that ways it ended well for me. But in the process I lost a friend and  felt really bad for hurting a nice soul.

No matter how hard I tried to make the mends, it always resulted in exchange of harsh words. Some how this person was capable of bringing the worst out of me. I could lash out with insults I never knew existed and in result ended up being wounded even more. I was somehow convinced that I was the bad one and the other person was the victim here.

Till about last year, after another failed attempt at reconciliation, I took a step back and finally decided to let it all go. May be I was not the only one to be blamed and may be not every bridge can be mended again. I vowed to not make things any worse and prayed every day for the strength to carry on.

While it worked for me, it seems this dear friend of mine is still not able to let go. Every couple of months I get insults swinged at me, and unlike in the past, I am easily able to dodge.  I don’t feel the need to prove a point or hurt back any more.

Just the other day I got another note, wishing for me to burn in Hell and So intense was the need of this person to hurt me hard, that the poor soul couldn’t even frame the words right. I always used to get so hurt reading the words addressed to me that no decent person deserves to hear, and today all I feel is compassion for the person, who must be so overwhelmed with feelings that couldn’t even wait to get the note straight.

Every day lived, especially the ones I feel were unnecessarily hard, seem to bring out the best in me. Every minute, I am given a choice to take it easy or work hard for all its worth and I try not to forget the fallen moments and work hard to make it count, even if, its just for a day.

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Questions and more…

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Have I struggled enough,

I ask myself,

or have I just endured?

does my silent-suffering,

makes me noble,

or was I suppose to kick back more?

I too bear the ugly scars,

then how come they don’t tell tales?

or being beaten, is not quite as much fun,

as fighting tooth and nails.

Life is mean,

and End is real,

but that’s no reason to not have soul.

being in ditch,

brings no glory,

unless I find my way out of hell hole.

Love, My love!

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I was told love is that cosy-comfy thing, that makes your world extra pink and fuzzy. I don’t know where I picked the notion that love was about googly eyes, cotton candies and romantic words. Love I knew, tucked you in your bed with a remote to watch a prime time TV show. Love gave unconditionally, and in turn loved you some more.

Living in those romantic chick flicks, I never learnt anything different from what I already knew, so when I finally met you, love seemed askew.

You pulled me out of warm home, to the cold and high place, you made me look down the deepest valleys, with fresh air brushing against my face. You threw me in the deepest waters, demanding that I learnt to swim, for you knew, how much I wanted to feel the rush, but never got around doing the real thing.

If I felt you did not care, for you never said a word, I always found your hand on the shelf, just above my head. You did not say sweet nothings when I did not feel so well, you nudged me, poked me, pushed me to fight it, instead. You let me fall, you let me rise, never picking me off the ground. if I ever thought you did not care, you were always there, watching me, I just had to look around.

For my love, I learnt what was the truth. Love’s not soft, loves not cuddly, it doesn’t write no songs. Love’s ferocious, love’s violent, still can last so long. It’s no pink, neither fuzzy, its Red and beats the passion down the heart. Love is a commitment, needs the strength, so can’t be given a blind start.

**Only text is mine, image is thankfully borrowed from Fabio’s F-zimba Photo stream..

http://www.flickr.com/photos/fzimba/3194847709/in/photostream/

Man who never died!

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I had imagined this day in my head numerous times, I thought I wouldn’t be able to stop crying, crying till the time my stomach felt sick, till my body had nothing else left to spare.

 But I didn’t.

 He was gone, and all I did was sigh!

 Sighed!

 As I replaced the receiver, I felt relieved. At least, He wont be bothered any more!

 I should have cried, bawled, for he was gone!

 I was mad at GOD, not for taking him but for the life he made him live and the way he made him die.

 I know he probably wasn’t the greatest father or may be the strongest human being, but he was the best Grand father in the whole wide world.

 He was the single most pleasant memory of my otherwise sick childhood. He was the one who turned me to books and story world.

 No one knew him like I did and all those secrets and stories were left in between, still waiting to be told.

 The oldest story he ever told me was his first childhood memory.

 How his mother had managed to bring him up, after his father’s sudden death. How the poverty was as common as a cheese burger today and staying alive was a miracle, no less.

His school days were magical! There were stories, of classmates haunted by past lives, strange animals and restless souls.  The teachers seemed like character out of different time and learning seemed like so much fun.

 I remembered how he told me about his Uncles and sisters.

How he missed my grandmother so very much.

He had lost his young wife – she was gone, even before he could know, she was sick.

He lost his eldest son at the age of 16, but he couldn’t say, he was hurt.

His faith in GOD was miraculous, I often argued with him, for not being there for my mother, and he would nod  and leave me to fuss.

He was always carrying my youngest cousin around as he was polio struck. He never complaint for having to nurse him or for when he kicked.  I didn’t understand why he did it, it wasn’t really his job.

He was this kindest, down to earth soul who never let any thing get to his head.

When I saw him suffer from throat cancer, I couldn’t help it, I was so angry with GOD, I know every one is going to die, why couldn’t he take him with less pain. He lost his voice, but we still shared our stories, I watched him fade away.

I remember asking GOD what was the point of his life, was he here to live a curse just like ‘Devrath‘?

It took me a while to find my answers as I was just a child myself. I saw myself growing and with each day, I looked more like my oldest crush! I couldn’t believe that out of all his offspring’s, his grandkids, I was the chosen one, who took after him. Even though he has been gone for more than a fifteen years now, but in me he will always live!

** Image is of Mary Pickford, thankfully borrowed from, http://elizs.tumblr.com/post/16006704518/legrandcirque-mary-pickford-writing-at-a-desk

Joke

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Today he asked me to move in!

Besides the stupid voice in my head, all was fine.

“You are moving way ahead of yourself, Hang in there, just a little bit.“,

Like I said, Stupid voice.

How could I not do it?

He needed me!

He had not been keeping well due to all the take outs and late nights. He wanted to root in now, have someone to take care of him, to belong.

It felt so right!

We have been together for little over a year, we were best of friends and loved each other very much (I did). Obviously, it was a good decision.

But I still couldn’t get the stupid voice out of my head.

It’s been over a month that we were together, life was finally good.  Working in the same team had its perks and since he was working really late these days, I thought of sticking around, to help him with the same. He was working on a particular case and client seemed to be more than a little dumb.

From that day on, he would tell me, how little brain that woman had and how she needed him to be on call every second hour.  She was part of our regular jokes and the calls were extended beyond normal working hours, till one night I caught him helping her more than he should.

Within days, he asked me to move out, because he was in love.

And now I knew, the joke was on me!

 

 

Chapter 1 | Heart and all…

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Friday Fiction | Life, You and Me!

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Written for Friday Fictioneers!

“Why don’t you ever talk to me!”

“I am tired of pretending that you can hear, that you care and you do have a heart – beating just for me!”

“Gosh, I wish I didn’t love you so much!”

With that, that little thing burst into tears. Her tears froze with the north wind that eventually washed her away.

But the tears remained, digging deep into the stone, till, they finally reached the heart and broke it apart!

**Feedback is welcome!



in the dark recess of my mind

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100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#46

Thinking of you is a sin and not thinking of you drives me crazy. I try to remember all the glorious moments we shared, the love we had and the promises of nothing would ever change. Instead I see all the lies that crept up in between, the harsh words exchanged like some video game. I remember you doing me wrong and expecting me to take it all in silence, staying strong. So while all is right in my life and I hope never to see you again… In the dark recess of my mind I wish, we meet just once again so I could Stab you once for all!

The Damn Song!

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And I finally found that song!

Couple of years back, I had major heartache, not that it has left me much since, but I thought I had learnt to deal with it, till I found this song again today.

I used to listen to this song like a mad man over and over again. I would have heard it at least a million times, if not more, back then.

As days went by and breathing continued without much damage than, an obvious weight loss and missing heart, I forgot the song.

Ever since then, I had been trying to find it again.

The heartache continued even though it kept on switching from love, pain, anger to hate depending on the hour of the day, and I still couldn’t recall the song.

Today it has been a few years since the original day and the pain is worse than ever, and I thought, damn it! If I would listen to that song once, I will feel better for sure.

Boy was I wrong, I found the song and along with it I found every thing I lived then.

But I still love the song.

(Its in Hindi, so for those who care to know…

It basically means,

I cant even breath without you, my love, i have been everywhere, without caring about the day or night and i still cant stop looking for you…. i cant be without you even for a minute and now even death is not coming easy, no prayer is helping and i cant breath without you….. or something like that…)

I am ashamed….

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There is a video getting circulated on facebook, showing a woman beating a baby. The comments match the violence in the video too, only this time they are targeting the woman in question.  Even though I couldn’t bear to watch it for more than 30 seconds, I still couldn’t summon violence against the woman either. What it brought instead was, shame, pain, guilt and feeling of estrangement from the world around.

I don’t care if the woman should be shot, hanged or run over by a truck for being a monster; I am too concerned about the one taping it. Just like each one of us, silent witness, turning the account into something of an amusement, never stopping or hindering the wrong being done to the child.

Isn’t that what we all do, watch and narrate the wrong we see every day to each other, like being around of the sheer wrong makes us some kind of a star? The stories of accidents, mugging, murders, cruelty, why do they grab our attention over the acts of kindness and love.

I am ashamed of being one of this world, where we need a television show to be reminded of all the wrong being done by us, Where a video inspires more violence than an action against the crime, where we have admitted to our impotent minds and hearts calling it way of life.