Still an idiot.

I thought I had gotten past this. This thing. This stage. But then how long ago was it since I've been shown the door? If I am told I am not worth anything, I will be able to take it, because I'll prove myself then, but when I was literally shown that my feelings weren't worth a dime, it hit the core of my being. I reeled. I roiled. So I am a wreck. I am.

But that will in no way stop me from underscoring the feelings I had, I have and the ones I will keep inside me. To me the feelings have value. They are important to my psyche, if only to maintain a semblance of my own sanity in some remote corner of my mind.

Time, they say is a great healer, but time is time, it has its own pace. I am living through each slice of time in a most exaggerated parody of normalcy, and trying to put up a brave facade of stoicism. But then again, isn't that hurting me from within, so is this qualifies as masochism, then ultimately, stoicism is a form of masochism. Pardon the digression, but thinking keeps the emotional part of me buried under the action of the thought making process.

This ultimately, brings me to the simple fact that I cannot escape from - that I'm still an idiot, in spite of what my friends might say.

Please don't try so hard to say goodbye.

My dear Lady.

"Cause the love you used to feel is still there inside,
it maybe a faded photograph but I know you care,
so don't hide.
If you're scared I'm here beside you,
if you get lost I'm here to guide you,
and I give you peace when peace is fragile.
Love is all the good in you,
love is peace when peace is fragile."

This struck a chord deep inside me. And sleep, as usual, decides to stand me up tonight, again.
So here I am writing to let my feelings out and drain me dry.

This stanza is such an accurate reflection of all the turmoil in the recent past. And it is what is keeping me going on each day. The love I used to feel, is still there inside. Over time, it will fade, but I'll still care. But I can't help but hide, so you don't torment yourself over this series of incidents, most of which are outside of your control.

I used to be there beside you when you were scared. When you floundered I'd be there beside you. You once told me, I gave you peace, even amidst all the ruckus you'd keep up with. When peace was hard to come by. When things turned crazy, I like to believe I was a cornerstone with a semblance of peace.

The love I have for you, shall remain untarnished, inspite of all your actions and choices. But it's hard to say goodbye. It's always been the most trying of times for me to say goodbye. Immortalising these words of a fragile peace, where love becomes your sanctum of peace and serenity amidst the ruckus we have come to live with daily, are a series of incidents that shall remain in my memories. They shall fade away with time, try as I might otherwise, but they will leave indelible traces of happy strains in the old sepia memory lanes, when I might look back on them.

Some songs that reverberate with your soul's predicament become entwined with the memories, whence long after the memories have faded away and hidden under the burden of new ones, a sudden catch of the tune will trigger a recollection of these sepia times as if they were just yesterdays. But with so many objects tied with the beautiful memories I possess, I don't know if I shall ever be able to bid you adieu.

Sincerely yours
A face in the crowd
Ani

Idiot.

Yes, idiot. No you didn't read it wrong. And yes, I'm calling myself an idiot. No not you, not at all. This thing called love, makes me an idiot. Every single time. So I write a letter-an affidavit of sorts.



Dear Lady.

I've been accused of seeing the world through colored glasses. I admit, with some amount of incredulity, that perhaps the allegations are true and admissible. I love thee too much. And it colors the way I perceive.

You have probably changed many an aspect of my life, from the way I talk to the way I work. But, thanks to a particular gentleman against whom I might have a few reservations, I seem to have opened my eyes to the possibility that I was being a fool, an idiot, a stupid narcissistic bum.

It was also probably entirely my fault too. I knew how this would turn out, since the very beginning, and tried to take the adequate precautions, but it simply wasn't enough to contain the onslaught of the emotional buffeting I experienced. It was simply an overwhelming sledgehammer that kept pounding inside my head and my entire psyche. It was simply unstoppable. A dam had to break somewhere. And break it did.

So after a sacrosanct 24 hours of austerities, and a few heartfelt discussions with my shadow and the very best of friends, I realize how big a fool I have been. Yes, I love you a lot. There is not an iota of doubt about it. And I shall always love you, irrespective of whether this love is requited or remains unrequited. It's love - pure and undemanding. It shall always be there waiting for you. But I, perhaps, will have moved on.

You asked me once, if I am trustworthy - yes lady. I'll always be. But, I will not stand twiddling my thumbs as you keep dishing out last chances to a particular gentleman with whom you manage to pick a fight every other day. This is not about being the first one to give up either. It's about preserving the sanity of three people. It's called self preservation. Its fruitless to wait in queue when its proven time and again that my love is not worth an iota of consideration, and that it can be swept under the carpet each time your gentleman crooks his finger every other way.

This begs me to question, whether I'm just another safe fallback option to you? Let me put it in financial terms, "Am I a call option for another call option?"

You will probably detest me, despise me, hate me, call me names, but all I can tell you, is that, I'll love you anyway. There is a song playing, that says, you always hurt the one you love, the one you shouldn't hurt at all. you always take the sweetest rose, and crush it till the petals fall. Perhaps it is true. Perhaps I'm just too naive not to see it. But can you prove it to me?

I donot know what path I'm taking. I donot know where it leads. I donot know if I shall ever see you again. I donot know what tomorrow shall bring. I donot know how this will change things, for you and me. But I do know, I'll love you the same. That you shall always hold a place in this wasted heart of mine.

Perhaps I am being too candid, too open for my own good. But I shall tell you this. I wasn't surprised by the way things turned out. It was just that the timing was impeccable - spot on, to hurt me right in my guts. And in a way I never imagined. I expected it to be a little gentler, but with the way we all behave socially, it was definitely my fault at not expecting something like this.

The past 100 days have been some of my best days - stormy and calm, in cycles, but nonetheless some of the best days. Thank you for that. And no matter what happens now, nobody can ever take that away from me. And neither from you.

Sincerely yours
Forever
Ani
#lookingforafairytale

Glimpses of the bright sun behind the dark clouds

Withdrawal symptoms- they are reactions your body has and exhibits to the discontinuation from use of a particular substance. What does it mean when a girl tells you she is suffering from withdrawal symptoms, from me?

I for one was shocked. Then sad. Then elated. And then the sense of impending doom came over. And I lost all sense of hope. But like a glimpse of the bright sun behind the dark clouds in a rainy monsoon, it brought me warmth when there was no hope for redemption. It brought a sense of peace. It was closure. Final. Unforgiving.

Withdrawal symptoms mean, it is a conscious decision by the user in question to stop seeing me. It means she is trying to distance herself. But conversely it also means she had a soft spot for me. It means I did reach her heart.

Yes, I am hurt. But the ache is there behind a veil now. There is an immense sadness threatening to engulf me, immerse me, suffocate me, blind me, burn me. But there is also a memory - happy and sad in equal measure. Inwardly whatever I might have felt, I know I managed to someone happy for however short span of time.

Yes, this also reinforces my sentiments towards commitment. When I want to commit, it always turns out wrong. When nothing is wrong, I don't want to commit. It's the kind of devil's paradox, when everything is right, I want to make a wrong, and when nothing is right, I want to do a right.

Yes, I love this woman. More than anything in this world. I'll gladly give up everything I have, anything I have or will have, to be with this woman. But I also realise and believe she should have the independence to choose me or otherwise. And isn't her happiness paramount in my endeavour called love? Even if her happiness is bought with my departure.

So here is my plan. Love her unconditionally. Expecting nothing. Once she no longer needs me, I'll disappear. Go places where no-one knows me, no-one will look for me. Live out my life. I know, I'll always find myself someone to love. Someone to cherish. Someone to keep happy. But I know there'll never be another one like you.

But she is a special one. Where I need to try and make an effort with everyone else, here it comes easy, from the inside, naturally. When she will go, I'll lose a part of me. I'll become hollow in places. But I'll fill it up with whatever I can find. Music, Art, Sports, Work or just plain narcissism. But yes. I did give her a part of me which can be hurt. Mangled. Mauled. Twisted and turned. Broken into a million pieces. But indestructible. For within us all resides a person who mends it back.

My dear, I love you so. If only, things were different. If only..
I'm sorry things aren't they way they were supposed to be. I will hope against hope, things turn out well for me. But I know however things turn out to be, you'll be a happy woman. I bequeath everything that was or is mine to give, to you. My only wish is that you are happy. Whatever be the cost to me, I'll buy your happiness.

Good luck, ******.

November Rain

Hmmmm... Here I come out of my reverie in which I had been immersed for the past few days. It was almost as if, life was passing me by, and I was just a curious observer standing to one side as a torrent of unfelt emotions and unfathomable thoughts zipped past me too quickly for me to comprehend the cosmic signs.

A whole day of plans that were carefully planned, torn apart at the seams by someone whom I barely knew, from halfway across the world carrying a few blue stones a box of chocolates and sweeping a maiden off her dainty feet.

But the killer blow comes when you're caught in the eye of the storm. With nowhere else to run, nowhere to hide, all you can do is to face it stoically and hope the blow falls quickly. Painless. Clean. Swift.

But somewhere there will be tears falling silently. Someone else will say sorry. Gallows humor then becomes the only weapon to fight off moist eyes. Music becomes the emotional outlet. Physical activity becomes the vestige to waste yourself.

With nothing left to give anymore, you become the empty vessel. The one who shall never make another noise, another sound. But then again, empty vessels emit a clean pure note when struck.

The storm passes over. You realise, in the middle of nowhere, that the world has marched past as you stood watching, and you're standing in a desert with a soaked cloth. You wish the bear hug, that left you breathless an hour ago, or was it a lifetime ago, had done the job. But the closure is implicit in its absence. With the world back in balance, the mist starts swirling again, enveloping the countryside in its soft embrace.

They say,  "Nothing you have not given away will ever really be yours.", and you wonder how the sour grapes story ever made sense.

The fools we make of ourselves

I never cease to be amazed at how big a fool I am. Everytime, I think I can't be any more foolish, and time just shows me how wrong I am.
Just when I thought, I had it all figured out in life, a hurricane comes along and sweeps it all away. From the tiny proteins called hormones, to the bigger concept of social self, everything goes for a toss. For an elusive idea of love, there are just so many many ways you can delude yourself and come crashing down. While there maybe hands waiting to catch you when you fall, it is sometimes just easier to curl up and fall all the way to rock bottom. Yes, shattered you may be, but you'll pick up pieces of yourself and maybe find out facets to your own self, that you never knew existed. It is painful, heart rendering, perhaps even fatal to a part of your psyche, but the experience of shattering is worth it, sometimes, when you weigh it against the fleeting few moments preceding it, when time seems to stand still, when the breeze flutters on your face, when sunrise becomes your absolution and sunset your muse.

So I sit here wasted, wounded with a six string in hand, trying hard to capture this moment in music for eternity.

Yes, that is the nature of love. It has intrigued writers and poets, kings and queens and the serfs alike. Love follows no rules. It just is. The more delicate the bond of love, the stronger it is, the more beautiful it is, the more mystical and the more endearing. The more special. And just as roses cannot be plucked without the thorns, the idea of "love" itself is not without its own deterrents.

The bond is like no other, it is ever changing, ever present and just beyond your reach. It is like the sea but only an arm-span wide or like the stream but so wide you can never hope to see the other side.

Love is everywhere. There is always just a hint of truth lurking behind the impersonal quips which have become so commonplace today. Haven't you ever felt there was a little truth behind a "Just Kidding?", a little emotion behind every "I don't care", a little pain behind the "It's okay" and the unsaid "I need you" behind the "Leave me alone".

Love is a lot of things. It is sometimes a person's vanity, when it is selfish and the rest of the time it is mere insanity. Love also takes two. Try as hard as you may, you cannot create love out of thin air. But noone's stopping you from barreling down the highway of love without a driver at a hundred miles an hour. Crash and burn is the name of the game we call love. But miracles do happen in life. And who doesn't love a miracle?

on the bright side

Well, so I lost my phone. Big deal! Yes it is a big deal!
But, with the cold clinical sense of helplessness took me by force and my own ever-present sense of humor, made me realize that it is the fifth phone i've probably lost to theft, and not for my carelessness. And not only that, but that a God fearing employee in a bank tells me, maybe it was for the best, you know the loss of the phone took care of a greater mishap waiting to happen. Maybe he is right. More likely he isn't, but how do I disprove the theory?

Another notion I heard was today is your birthday! You can do anything and nothing bad shall happen. A pitfall- can i stand in front of a running bus and still emerge unscathed?