Oh Snap!

Okay, so my best friend snapped at me today.

Let's go back in time though.
I never thought this would ever happen, mainly because I never liked her kind.
Her kind was less interesting than the other friends of mine. We'd all mock and despise her existence. Literally. She never felt bad though.
That isn't how much I hated her, as I never really believe in hating anyone. Everyone's an acquaintance, but none an enemy. But what I had for her and her family was perhaps the only thing I ever disliked.

About a decade later, however, I fell in love. An amazing friend showed me how beautiful her family was. I was inspired to befriend this being and convinced my parents to bring her home. On December 11th, 2016, a beautiful Black lady came home and sought permanent refuge at my house, in my room. I don't mean to be racist, but Black Beauty was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I began calling her Mystica on January 1st, 2017. Mystica and I grew extremely close over time. We had a long break though. I didn't understand her at all. Initially, we spoke to each other. A Lot. However, in about four months, I ran out of things to talk to her about, and so did she. Every time I saw her face there was this awkward silence between us that was really disturbing.

About six months into our first meeting, we had to buy Mystica some accessories. We bought her a beautiful set but didn't know how to get her to use it. Trust me, we had to take her to a more knowledgeable person to understand how to understand her. But ultimately we both understood each other, and have been growing close ever since.

It's 11.12.2017 while I'm penning this down. Mystica's first birthday. We sat together talking to each other for almost an hour. At the end of that time, while bidding her adieu, for the first time ever, she snapped. MYSTICA SNAPPED. And instead of snapping back at her, I started laughing. She just had this poker face on while I laughed my head off. For the first time ever, she snapped at me. And that was hilarious.

I have all the reason to believe that today's snappy incident is a new milestone in mine and Mystica's relationship. It has taught both of us that certain snaps are a sign that we both are doing very good on our journey. Teehee. Mystica snapped.

11.12.2017 is a day that'll forever be etched in my heart.
Mystica's first birthday, and also the day I first snapped a string on my guitar, whom I call Mystica.

Dear Blue

Dear Blue,

You're one of the guests I never even invited.
Why did you come to seek refuge in my head?
I never caused you any harm, never even took your name, but still, you picked me.
You first inflicted wounds on my friends; I helped them. Is that why you're punishing me right now?
You're that blackness that wipes away every single spot of colour I see. But why do you do this?
Is it because I put up a brave face every time you come near me?
Is it because I try to push you away whenever you come hug me?
Is it because you never manage to possess my soul that this one time you could, you're ruining the way I function?
It's hard, you know?
Mainly because you're so clingy that I do not manage to talk to anyone for fear they'd feed you.
It's hard totally because you have eaten up every bit of strength I had and still demand more.
It's difficult because your influence is too appalling for anyone of my kind to combat.
I must applaud you though:
For how well you utilise situations that affect me on a psychological level-
(Sometimes, I even doubt you are the creator of those)
You came in like a casual breeze of air blowing against my cheeks
Only to become the wind that carried leeches along to suck out every ounce of hope I had within me-
But why would you do that?
I mean, you're only a psychological thing. You barely have a physical form.
Who has ever done you any wrong that you choose to avenge it on me and my friends like this?
It's anguishing.
It's not really nice of you to do this.
I don't even know of people who'll listen to me and make you listen.
I stand up for my friends, but will all of them stand up for me? I don't really know.
No matter how much you weaken my soul, you help me figure out who my truest comrades are.
You also make me stronger when you leave.
But a part of you always remains within-
Rooted, like the leeches you bring along.
I cried to my friends this morning- your impact was burdening me more than anything else.
Please, leave me alone.

I don't want you to burden me this way.

Alien Foray

Snuggling in the cold winter air I see
A black foggy shadow ahead
Not knowing what's burning me inside
But feeling the monstrosity beget-
And then this creepy sensation creeps in
Into the warm blanket covering my body
No matter how hard I try pushing it away
Keeps returning back to agony.
It never stopped there
And it never shall
For what followed every day
Was an ordeal that'd appall.
Every night when the clock struck ten
As the thunders rumbled ominously
And the lightning struck dim
Nothing knew what was happening,
Nothing knew a sin.
A foggy shadow appears in front of me
And I pretend to be brave
Though the brave girl faced all that she knew
This was something from which she withdrew.
The withdrawal never stopped there
And it never shall
For what would follow every day
Was an ordeal that'd appall.
The fear had no name
Which made it even worse
For if what is named is solvable
What is not is a curse.
And this shall continue for ages
Or even seconds, who knows
For what could follow every day
Could still be an ordeal, who knows.

The Boy In That Corner

It was a class of fifty-six-
Seventh-C, they called it-

And, obviously, friendships were biased:
All the nerds on one side, the sportspersons on another,
The dancers in the middle, and the musicians on a side.
Them, and some more, and a little boy in the corner.

His face was an abode of serenity-
His eyes speaking dreams, his hair swaying
Like grass moving in a breeze.
His nose twitching occasionally
And his mouth chanting in an unknown tongue.

No one spoke to him, so he rose from his seat
And walked aimlessly around the class,
Tried talking to some people he thought were friendly;
Only to be pushed away by his peers.

Despite all the beauty on his face
The abnormality in his heart begun to dominate-

Dejected, he walked towards the door;
Towards the unusual spectator that he saw.
“Well, Hello there!”
There was no answer.
“What’s your name?”
A blank stare.

“Sir, he’s autistic. And his poor parents do not know.”

Oh.

And then he walked away, aimlessly.

Growing Up

Okay. So let's face it.

WE'RE ALL GROWING UP.

"WHAT?"
I know, right?

I mean, right now, we're older than one second ago.
And right now, we're older than when we read (or typed) the last sentence.

We're all growing up!
By the time you would have finished reading this post, you're older than when you had begun.

Well, I was never concerned about this until a day ago.
I was just sitting in the car, on my way back from school, and wondering about the birthdays in line. Though it's completely unnecessary here, it's my birthday this weekend. And two days before mine, my best friend's. And four days before mine, another best friend's. So I was just sitting and recalling the dates I always confuse, when I realise that my best friend whose birthday is two days before mine turns 18 this year. Another best friend too. And one of the friends I made in the past year turned 18 a couple of months ago. And it's mind-boggling. I mean, we were all kids just last year. And now a few of us are officially adults. We get to exercise our right to vote. We get to drive.

Just about five minutes before I started writing(typing) this, I had another thought. So we're growing up. And age is just a number. But this number is so important to us. In one of my earlier posts, titled The Marks Card, I spoke about how that one set of numbers shouldn't really affect the way you behave or act. But turns out, there's another number that governs that for you.

Think about it. Say you're 17 today. What's your opinion on birthdays?
Well, I might get excited about it, but otherwise, it's just another day.
Now, you're a 6-year old. What's your opinion on birthdays?
BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
See? That's how this number is changing us.

As a kid, I used to LOVE doing stuff. I loved dancing, singing, and doing anything you asked me to. I remember this video where I crawled between two pillows my Dad placed in a triangular position without making them fall. Man, I was so excited. Today, that's just... stupid. Why would I shout like that?
And as much as I regret thinking that way, I can't help myself. We've all let ourselves be governed by what society thinks is acceptable for a particular age that we forget who we are on the inside.

I won't deny the advantages growing up has. For me, this has had so many good things. I discovered my passion for writing, I learnt that the best form of love comes from those who are deprived. I couldn't have done that without growing up. Face it- which 6-year-old would fight for Animal Rights?
But growing up shouldn't have had its standards. I don't like it when people say an 18-year-old should behave like an 18-year-old.

Is it a criminal offence for an adult to act like a kid?
Not as long as it poses some potential threat to life, property or the well-being of another individual.

Then act like a kid, na?
So what if you're 18, or 40, or 70?
Why act like who you aren't where you can be who you are?
I mean, your people have accepted you for you. So at least be yourself around them?
You need to stop thinking about what society will say, always.
Think about that, it's alright. But always? Seriously? Please don't.

Please.
Just be yourself.
Be a big kid now, not an adult.
You're amazing that way.

Racing Against Time

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

"Welcome to the race against time.

Your duty is to move so fast that your track senses more fear than it ever has.

This is not a race, it's life.

Good luck, amigos!"

That being said, the ten racers took their positions at the base of the rugged track.

It was a two-minute race. Yet, all the racers had learnt not to underestimate the impact they could leave on their terrain. In two minutes, they could bring tears down the eyes of the surface. In two minutes, they could give everyone in the arena goosebumps- even the thinnest spectator could freak out over its intensity.

Trrrring!!!

Two minutes!

The race had begun. Hands moved faster than they ever had. If these racers were driving amidst the traffic in densely populated areas of the world, boy, the government would earn so much revenue in a small while! On the other hand, though, this speed could kill thousands. 

The two-minute race was not adrenalin-filled for no reason. The obstacle course had way too many obstacles. You wouldn't know when a boulder would appear in front of you. The architects' skill was phenomenal. Every obstacle would blend so well with its surroundings that even the most careful racer would have to face a skipped heart beat at least once in the entire race.

The biggest obstacle, though, was the huge, almost-conical wall in the exact centre
of the track. Every time the racers would reach this wall, an external force would come and sweep the racer off the road. It would be game over for that racer.

(The track can feel every thing on it, mind you.)

One minute left!

The racers went into turbo mode. More racers would come from behind any moment now. They HAD to win, no matter what be the outcome. They just had to.

This sudden acceleration sent goose bumps all around the field. Every single spectator looked in anticipation to see who had won the race. Everyone stood up from their seats in silence. The world was empty.

Salty had won.

Okay, class. Time's up. Hand in your papers to me this instant.

The race against time was over.

Speck One

An open stage.

Bigger than the Colosseum,

Longer than the Nile.

More colourful than a rainbow,

Boundaries far aside.

Innumerable dancers,

All lined up in between;

As stars in a galaxy

As atoms in a being,

As the spot on a bald head-

Donning brown and green.

Around them, land-

Some with stairs, chairs or sand-

To house a billion onlookers;

Like children on a trance,

Like losers with a chance

Like a handicap on a prance:

Most cleaned, others left alone.

Just one speck though.

The sole audience to a ticketless play-

Watching the ladies in brown and green sway

Alternatively in direction-

Mesmerized.

On that expanse of sand.

At that open stage.

Every single day.

Defining Independence

At the stroke of midnight hour 70 years ago,

The rich Indian soil awoke to Independence.

And as we revisit this word many decades hence,

Its vastness speaks wonders:

To the poor man lying at the corner of his hut-

And his little child feeding upon the biscuit he chanced upon

Freedom meant a walk with a high head.

On the parallel, at the unwillingly rich’s home

Freedom meant just a casual walk in the park.

To the woman sitting by the fire

Cooking her people their daily meal,

Independence was just being herself, and not others’ reflections.

While to the man burning the midnight oil,

Freedom was just one peaceful day off.

To the voiceless creatures fluttering in the sky

Freedom was the freest flight.

And to those below,

One harmless night.

To the union of all these-

To the country that then woke up for the first time,

Independence just meant being free.

And fast forward to seven decades later,
Independence is now a cluster of universal glee.

The Marks Card

Marks.
The moment I hear that word,
My heart always skips a beat.
But why wouldn’t it?
Is that because of how they portray it
Or is it because of the sinisterness of the monstrous word?
Think about it. Every time
You walk out of your house for an exam-
The only thing that pops up- “MARKS PLEASE”
And I agree, it is important.

Very, VERY important.
But take a second and wonder-
Is your second name Mark?
Cuz’, I don’t think so.
But I’m starting to doubt that.

You see, whenever you’re supposed to flutter and frolic,
I see you with your books.
Whenever you’re at the dinner table,
You bring your books along.

Whenever you’re supposed to be doing nothing,

Your hands hold a big fat textbook.
It’s become a routine-
When you have to meet friends, you study.
When you can sleep in, you study.
When you’re invited for a lifetime opportunity,
Hey! You can skip that! You must study!
(Believe me, the last one feels HORRIBLE)
But HEY! NEWS FLASH! Your books aren’t more important than you!
I won’t complain if you study when you have to.
Cuz’ I know marks are important. ESPECIALLY in this country.
But I find you cheating for your score.
Marks- are they more important than your rest?
Are they more important than your zest?
Are your marks more important than YOU?
The answer is, NO, my friend, NO!
Your marks don’t define who you are!
Your marks are just a number
That fetches you admissions- or jobs- AFTER your personality.
Your marks are just a combination of digits-
Be it one, two or three.
They’re only your marks.
They don’t define your entire self.
They’re only your marks.
Makeup to any ugly soul.
They’re only your marks.
A necessary frenemy.
They’re only your marks.
So, relax.

X's Story

Hello! I’m X.

You know, like those businessmen you see in your textbooks?

Or that person who is rich enough to buy 63 houses in one go?

But, that isn’t who I really am.

I could be you, or you, or even you.

I could actually be any one of you.

So put yourself in somebody else’s shoes and listen

To what I have to say.

“Dear People of the World.

I’m tired and sick.

Medically, I have an excellent record, But

That’s because my illness is something beyond.

Every time you fat-shamed me

Or every time you spoke behind my back,

I listened.

Every time you mocked my passions

Or every time you changed the subject because what I spoke was ‘boring’,

I was there.

And every time you tried being my boss

Or every time you treated me like I were your slave,

I bore it all.

You see, I never had the courage to stop you.

People said I was too sweet to stand up

That I was too weak to react

That I was too voiceless to slam you on your face.

But today, that changes.

Because every time I saw my friends turn into foes,

Every time the news read ‘Suicide due to Depression’,

My patience came down.

It’s obvious, I know.

I know you saw this coming.

I know that you knew that one day I’d know that I’d have to speak up.

But have you even tried to know why?

Not superficially, but deeply.

Do you know what goes on inside?

You couldn’t.

Cuz’ neither do I. nor do they

Who you mocked for being different

Who you isolated for having a passion that did not fit them

Who stabbed you with their invisible swords.

Dear People of the World.

Many people have told you this.

Thousands have asked you to stop.

Let me add another to the requests to stop.

Please.”

Well, that’s what I had to say.

My question is, what about you?

You could be on this side of the road,

Or even on the other.

We’re just separated by a huge black void.

That, ironically, isn’t empty.

It’s your choice which side you want to be on.

It’s your choice to where you wanna go.

Until you take your decision,

Let this ring in your mind
S.
T.
O.
P. 
Stop.