Engulfed

Just a thought –

You make your rules. Amend it as you wish. Do not have excuses or reasons to feel right about them.

smoking girl

She woke up in his arms. There, the prodigious within her woke up too. She was wearing her cloths to get away from there. He was blinking his eyes to see what the noise was. He saw her cold and emotionless face. He knew something was wrong. He asked her and kept asking her. But, zilch he knew that she was deaf to all those. He started his plea, “Please don’t leave me. Lets talk about it. Have I had done something iniquitous that hurt you? I really love you and I don’t want us to get over like this.

She tarried. Turned around to look into his eyes, exactly 10 seconds. She looked at him like a vicious tigress that has fulfilled her hunger just then, with a sense of consummation. She grinned. He saw her incredulous. She heard his dirge and she was gone.

In her car:

“Bianca”. She heard the evocative sumptuous whisper yet again. She closed her ears with her hands.

This is the umpteenth guy, who has been humiliated by her. Every single time she feels pleasure. This pleasure has no vindication in her world. Her cab was moving along the coast, somewhere her thoughts drift to her dark past effortlessly.

Past:

“Bianca has lots of scabs that she has to reconcile before she can have a peaceful relationship”, said the doctor to her mom. I’m afraid she would keep doing this to herself if she tries to run away from them. She ought to face them.

She heard it. She also saw the drops of tears in her mom’s eyes. Coming out of the clinic, she spoke to her mom. The long awaited conversation. She assured her that she would give life another chance. No one can deter her from doing it. But you know life is a bitch.

Airport:

“Bia, promise me that you would take care of yourself and your wounds from bleeding more.” She smiled. She had one of those cutest serene smiles in the world. Her innocence still locked within amidst the tempests.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to London International Airport. The local time is 1 pm and the temperature is 4 degree Celsius”

There she is in her beloved city for the first time in search of new life.

“Hi”, said Zafar, one of the cabin crewmembers. I just wanted to say you looked really beautiful with your messy hair all over your face, when you were sleeping.

She looked straight into his eyes. The spark. She had her mind voice telling her, “Stay away”. She expeditiously said thanks and fled from there to her university accommodation.

She was hunted religiously.

Being judgmental about people within you is never wrong. Voicing or allowing the judgments to influence other’s behavior is an inappropriate human nature.

Sometimes love makes you believe in those larger than life emotions. Bianca was flying in the air. Her life made sense to her. Her sufferings made sense to her. She alleged that it was all worth it.

Because she met Zafar.

Everything about Zafar made her like a whipped animal. He was a good player. She heard his heartbeats and he whispered into her ears, “Bianca”. She wished, she could tell him what it meant to her. Words can’t explicate certain human emotions. She blinked her eyes open to see him getting ready in his uniform to get to work. And he gave her the saccharine chortle possible. And there he said, “It was nice knowing you”.

Her dirge never reached his ears because it never came out of her. She was silenced once for all. Now, everything made unequivocally no sense. When was she ever efficacious in telling people that they are not only close to her heart but they are a part of it? Here goes another part. He took it in such a way that it left vicious bleeding behind.

World within her was doomed. She had to reconstruct it again. The damage done this time was amplified. She questioned her competencies in weathering in this big nasty world. She also realized that questions in life remain the same but answers to them keep changing as a human grows and evolves.

She changed her answers.

Present:

She snapped out of her thoughts and opened the newspaper.

“Zafar Khan, after 9 years of dating, finally gets married to the love of his life.”

She placed a cigarette on her feverish lips and lit it. After a puff, she said, “Motherfucking-son-of-a-bitch.” She turned the page.

Love-lust-trust-betrayal. She amended her rules for herself. Life was way easier. Meet one of the successful models of the generation – Bianca

Advertisements

One’s own feats

Just a thought –

The feel of “regret”, sometimes, is obligatory for yours and other’s life.

thoughts-girl-lake

The world out there is a unification of a race, that complicate a humble life. This is nothing novel. The attention-grabbing trait is, how the human qualities are sinking.

A layman is capable of blaspheming someone or something to an inconceivable level.

It comes so naturally to people nowadays. It doesn’t even take a whiplash second to digest their act. And every one of us gets away with these lines, “I’m a human too and I tend to make mistakes. What is the big deal?”

Some argue that it is dependent on how the kid is nurtured. With smirks, you again can’t get away by pointing figure at someone else.

I recently came across a person, who I venerated and ended up with abhorrence. It is not about the concept of people change. For all I know, change is constant. It is about how few people are upright at feigning and how few people are naïve. Believe me, being naïve is errant.

I often ponder on the thought, if only emotional exploitation is indictable, how many would dare to do it? Again, it is not about making it unlawful but it is vouching upon the probability of how many would knock their cognizance before doing something atrocious to another being.

I can bet on the fact that this person I came across in the journey of life, would be the cheapest I can ever combat. Simply because this person had all of it. Getting to know this person, I’m assuming the level of being cheap grows with time rather than diminishing and trying to be a better person. Fascinating fact is that this person makes sure that the same thing is reiterated with more intensity later in life. I have been a prey, there were many earlier and would be more too. It took ages for me to get over this priceless experience and compromise on my idiocy. I call it priceless experience because I’m a utopian. It did break me, but I made sure to pick every single piece up.

What was the most infuriating truth? The person was not sorry for what was done. The person’s feats annihilated a girl. A family. A dream. A life. A hope. A promise. A wish. However, all these unseen stooges, didn’t mean anything to anyone. It was all obscured. Perpetually. The person, who did this, was simply not even sorry about it. Not even sorry. The least, a human can emote for his callous acts. All that the person chose to do was to pelt. The person never turned back to see what happened to all of them.

But how does it matter?

I discern that it doesn’t matter. When it matters, if it matters, the person would be in front of each victim at some point in life. Regret. For one’s own feats.

It will. Someday.

The person will pay for his peccadillos.

Priya

St. James Church

London

Exuberance

Just a thought –

Some occurrences in your journey jabs open your eyes towards the punitive veracity of the world and it’s species.

a1899e57d849764b794731351a4e8714

She would be easily around 85 years. Yet she luridly remembered him. It was desolating to know that she still reminisced him as how he had chosen to show himself to her. 50 years of human life is a lot of time to hold on to something. I conjectured on the power of the miff.

That which does not kill us makes us stronger – Friedrich Nietzsche

She said this to me and I ended up looking through her. I could sense that. The agony that had the power to inoculate me. For some reason, I was keen on knowing what was it. She is one of the most intellectual women I have ever come across in life till now. Her talks and thoughts were immensely instigating. And she told me this:

I was 23 years, when I met him. When we met, I was victimized to certain life threatening ordeals. But, I never had urging thoughts of giving up on life or on myself. I’m a fighter and I strongly believed in spiritual side of mortal life. I believed in natural justice the most. She has that sparkles in her eyes, when she mentioned it. It startled me for a second.

I continued to listen to her. Our world was so picturesque. He changed my acuity towards the bitter globe. Life is never a bed of roses. I understand the presence of thorns amongst roses, but don’t understand the presence of leeches that can kill the roses. His devious comportment was the leech. Love makes you oversee the flaw in them and that is how it should be to relish a serene soul. But his deceit was so formidable that the serene soul lost its denotation. He thrust me into a dark tunnel with a vicious vigor that I’m still finding my way out of it. 50 years and counting. I have had more devastating circumstances to have gone into the tunnel I’m mentioning here. But I had chosen him as the mace to tumble down. I regret the choice.

Do you know why? She had a tear stagnated at the corner of eye still trying to decide on to touch her cheeks or not. I was stuck in the thought of how can someone emote after 50 years of its occurrence? Baffled on the idea of time heals.

I love him. No, he is not my first love. The arch of her lips spoke volumes. He was my life’s companion. I wanted to share all the days I had with him. It was wrecked. I gave in, thus I gave up.

I subsisted to be only a blank page till now. The journey of subsistence was not at all tranquil. Words can’t do justice to those emotions.

And,

He was extremely devoted to me after that act of pretense. He was devoted to not to care about me, to be heartless to me. The perpetual reminder of that promise probed a lot of me yet kept me going. “A lot of me” would need another lifetime to expound.

With inquisitiveness I asked her, “Will you forgive him?” It is said forgiving and forgetting aids in healing. In a jostle she replied, “Does it matter? If it does, then who? He is and was not sorry for his feats. If he had in anyway, he would have found a way to me. And I don’t think anything could heal those wounds that time fails to heal.”

I was standing there, looking at this woman. Eyes wide open. She was a power in herself. Human emotions are complex however cool you tend to portray them. I shook hands expressing how pleased I was to meet her and slowly walked. In my trance – this could be me after 50 years. But do I have the conviction? I’ll figure out soon.

Name: Ariyana

Place: Waterstones, Piccadilly circus, London

Time: 11:10 am

 

Note:

It is a piece of fiction. My favorite author’s note:

“Neither novels nor their readers benefit from attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species.”

– John Green, Fault in our stars

Muzzled within!

Just a thought –

Allow people to walk out of your life. It gives you an opportunity to evaluate relationships and yourself.

4647693438_e3ef058cb9_bA page in “her” diary:

Love is all about tiny gestures of care. I know his care for me. I have seen it, felt it and lived it. Two years of “the unsaid” yet said relationship. Life seems a fairy tale when one is in love. But I never knew this would change into the worst phase. When things changed between us, I saw the reality of the relationship we shared. The “real him”.

The decision to choose mottled paths in life slowly injected so much pain within me that I started questioning, every act of his. It was not my decision to leave the beautiful relationship far behind. Though the reasons seemed to be very practical, I couldn’t compromise on the fact that he didn’t want to try. A spineless man could be more perilous than anyone. He was spineless. Things came to a point that “I never loved me”, “there is no use of you in my life anymore”, “when did I say that I’m in love with you”, “you can’t really do anything to me because I have decided to leave you” and so on.

A woman is always expected to be strong by this man made world. I know I’m strong. But is being strong is to keep quite to the emotional exploitation by men? I was exploited in the name of love. It was a conscious decision, as I believed in love, in him. It was such an illusion. He proved to be a perfect player. When exquisite thing like love is got without any struggle in life, you don’t tend to realize its worth. He was one of those kinds. When the girl goes beyond a tolerable level to be serious about him, he has his plans to behave and treat her in a way that she gets hurt and moves away by herself. He did exactly the same to me and he chose to run away. It is there in some people’s DNA.

How does it feel? To endure that “treatment” and “behaviour”. Not at all an easy one. The person you had loved a lot chooses to leave you behind to safeguard themselves from their guilt. In the name of family, religion, circumstances, career or whatever? A complete exit that it appears that you were never a part of his life. Not a new story in this big world. It is so common that people refuse to emote to this kind of news. They pat their lashes with this sentence “Grow up and move on”. Out of all this, the most excruciating bit was, he never bothered to alter the perception of him in me ever after that.

It is not to do with relationship it is about a lot more within me, about me. How much ever I drone about it, I can’t make people care or change. This entire experience in my life has changed me as an individual. I’m muzzled within. He took away an integral part of me. I will never be the same. Being called the emotional one, I’m the one to be blamed and I did blame myself for being blind in love.

I changed. I started existing than living and it pained so much less.

Note:

I came across a Londoner who shared the above, most personal happenings of her life. We became friends in London underground. The red flowers that I had in my hand was the reason for her to talk to me. She envied me for having such a good friend who had gifted me that. This is how our friendship started.

Her story made me wonder how many girls are out there who were subjected to such life altering experiences. I also often ponder on the thought if the person who are a reason for such a change in someone comes to know what they have done, will they be able to forgive themselves or would be callous to just go on with life like most of us do?