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No Lose. No Gain.

I came across an advertisement, “Loose Weight. Gain Happiness”.

Bullshit.

Was the first word that came to my mind. Instincts. What stupid tactic to sell. All those motivating social network posts flash across my mind and I believe I am happy. Well, almost.

Then I took a look at my life. And lives of all the people I know who have fats. Nobody is happy.

So, if part of the whole is true then maybe, just maybe, the whole is true too.

So guess what? Still the wrong tactic? No.

A few moments later, when I wasn’t reacting but responding, I realized that people – I know- with thigh gaps and no love handles aren’t happy either.

If someone is crying over a guy not being with her for she has not so hot body then a girl with collarbones is cribbing too for the guy just was with her for physical needs.

And it is true, irrespective of the genders I use to site an example, that nobody is happy.

Happiness is just a fleeting moment, a day, a week, a month, a year.

Every single person is destined to struggle with sadness.

Everybody has their share.

It has nothing to do with your weight or wealth or height or caste or race or creed.

So go on. Live the way you want- accept your body or change it, it is your decision to make. Let nobody decide for you.

Live with vigor, for your friend or family or colleague or fellow commuter, they too are in the same stream of life, just different boats.

Maybe be the reason for their happiness.

 

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Thirteen Word Story.

via Daily Prompt: Honk  

honk
noun
1.
the cry of a wild goose.
  • the harsh sound of a car horn.
verb
  1. make or cause to make a honk.
    2.
    (BRITISH informal)
    vomit.

“The honk of the car,

when it crashed,

still lingers in my hear.”

 “The cry of the wild goose,

took me amidst the labyrinth,

found turmoil.”

 

Gleeful smile appears as I vomit,

pain of separation vanishes,

conception was seductive. “

 

Weird thoughts

This or That.

via Daily Prompt: Dubious 

dubious
adjective
  1. hesitating or doubting.
                  or
  2. not to be relied upon; suspect.
    At the threshold, 
    I stand.
    One side is a familiar darkness.

                                                On the other lies enchanting light. 

The darkness calls me back. It is home.

My happy place.

But the light pulls too.

A tempting offer it proposes.

I want best of both the worlds;

In grey, I, want to, seize to exist.

A step to left would put me into a far-off land where the sun doesn’t sparkle.

Where I reign the world.

To my right, if I step, I go to a new world, not of comfort.

I start from scratch. The efforts would tire me down.

Where to step, I am hesitant about.

 Else forever, I shall live in wondering about.

 

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Deadly Destruction

D E A T H.
noun
the action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.
                                                     Also,
noun
the destruction or permanent end of something.
I lie on the floor.
A body lying parallel to me,
A wall that separates.
He is not moving,
organs not working,
not breathing.
That is death.
I do not feel it.
I call.
And call again
The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.
He  is not available.
Not reachable.
Not connected.
This, too, is death.
One that leaves me with no emotions.
Other that makes me cry and pull my hair.
Makes me a mess.
Makes me dead.      
One where organs work.
The breathing goes on.
But you don’t get enough air.
You scream while being asleep and nobody hears.
You walk for hours but get nowhere.
You try to reach out but accept no help.
That one is worst of its kind.
That one, I face.
And the milder one too.
Uncategorized

The Void.

V O I D
noun
       a completely empty space.
How did I reach here? 
Amidst this silence, despite the music blaring through speakers.
I take sip of my hot chocolate and as I see up from my cup, I can picture you. 
How you would have sat here for hours. 
Drinking coffee after coffee. 
Writing words after words.
Coffee I can never share.
Words I can never read.
Yet, here I am. 
A drop of tear roll down. 
And I feel the vacuity.
How did I reach here? 
Entangled with this body.
In this pain that ought to satisfy me but no emotions stir out of me.
I lie naked; the coldness of floor not affecting me. 
I keep staring at the fairy lights that is scattered on the floor.
And while I am bite and sucked, I feel the pain of falling into this endless pit.
A pit that now exist.
How did I reach here?
Into this calmness. Something that I always saw in you.
Something I know you have shared with me.
You brought me to the door of an universe.
An universe, I still have to discover.
How did I reach here? 
At the depths of this void, that you left behind as you walked away.
Which I am not even sure of. 
But I am here, now. 
Doing all wrong. Everything that would have earned that something-sour-eaten-look of yours.
Your face still vivid. Your ideas still running through my mind.
Ideas nobody would have shared with me.
Ideas that has meaning. 
One that leaves a smile.
I will either engulf them, and make it my life. 
OR
I take this void and create life filled with vacuum.
 
Relationships · Uncategorized

Four am thoughts.

Word. World. Whiskey. Rum.

Gin and tonic. Toxic. Relationship. Love. Hate. Night. Day. Light. Dark.

I flutter my eyes. Open. Shut. Shut. Open. Everything is black. Lacks difference. 

The world is sleeping. I lie awake.
Awakening. Awaken. Soul. Preach.
Reach. Out. I touch down. The floor is chilly. Imagine it to be sand.
Thus I dig deeper. Shallow.
Sand pricks my hand. Legs.
Stay afloat. Hair spread out.
On a pillow covered black.
Brown fingers I brush through them.
I think. About everything.
About nobody.
A smile breaks out on my face.
A splash of white on the black canvas.
I feel far. Away. Juxtaposed.
To salvation.

 

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Profoundly confused!

As I step out of the gate, I realize that I am at loss. Money, and a few good people and something that could have accumulated into love. But I made this decision. I decide to not think about money. To risk a relationship. To risk feelings.
To give up, at the snap of fingers, everything this sane world needs.
My needs go way beyond.
I have never come across my needs that I profoundly talk about.
So I let their words affect me.
I try to rub some reality on me. I try to run into truth.
Rather I bump into confusion. I don’t give it a second thought. Why would I? When there are versions of reality- then why would this confusion baffle me?
I don’t know how to figure it out.
So I walk out of this gate. And in this not so chilly night, I take in some hard liquid, lie back on this bike that is not mine. And look at the stars. Stars in the city yet delightful. Now, I know why writers marvel at the stars.

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Nothing

I do not understand.
What is good. And what right.
I am being pulled. And pushed.
There is a force that is driving me. Crazy.
But I am still sane.
There is a contrast. A touch that makes me shiver. Giggle.
I like it; the touch.
Yet I don’t let it stay. For I am going insane.
The way it melts.How it forms a shape. A puzzle being solved.

A taste I never had.

Taste of domination. Of gentleness.
The friction creates fire.
The fire heats me up.
Soul, however, is still cold.
Because this is not love.
Nothing is love.
Now, I am dead.
This fire burns me.
Turns me into ashes.
Makes me nothing.
So, then, I too can be loved.

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Parched

Muddy. Greasy. Spoiled.

I lay there thirsty.

I crack up.

I am cracked and turned into fine pieces.

Beaten.

I am beaten and beaten again.

There is no limit set.

When do I fall?

Which is the final blow that takes me down?

I lie here, awaiting.

Thunders roar. Wind gushes.

The cool wind touches and the coldness within finds home.

Weeks. Months. Seasons later,

It finally pours.

But I am still dry and cracked.

As though there is a cover, a shield, a mask.

That even  this downpour leaves me parched.

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Mad Woman in the New City.

                       Goa Version.                                                IMG_4056

Alcohol. Parties. Hookups.

These three words best describes, stereo-typically,  the smallest state of India -Goa . I did none of these.

What I did at Goa is lose a friend. A friend I was close to. A friend I considered family.

This is how life is supposed to be, isn’t it? Such a paradox life can be at times. Goa, a state that is considered to be friendly and warm, that is where you lose a friend.

*giving a low hysterical laugh*

I never have regretted a thing in my life but this trip I am not sure about. I took this trip with my friend and her mother. Now, I have already heard the doubts and questions like How the hell am I to enjoy with a mother figure? Trust me, my friend’s mother was not the problem.

However the trip was dull and monotonous, so much so, that on the second day itself I felt like leaving my company and go off on my own. I did not, because – friendship.

Now, that I am typing this, I realize I should have selected self over friend.

What keeps me in the dilemma is that even though I lost a friend and I couldn’t really discover the state the way I wanted to, I had some mind blowing moments. Moments that are beautiful. Moments that are mine.

Damn! It is so difficult to turn your hurt into words.

Even when I am trying to find good out of this trip, I cannot get the bad out of it. I can tell the bad but what good will it do?

Even though my trip wasn’t good, I do not want to hate that place.

How can you hate Sea? Beaches?

That was the best part of my trip. I still feel the chills. It was around ten at night, I was under the stars and the waves crashed at my feet and I was on call with one of my favorite persons. And even though we were arguing on the most stupid thing, I loved that moment. It is surely going under the list of my favorite evenings.

Like I said, I couldn’t discover the city but I met a few Goans, who taught me lessons for life and I dedicate the rest of my blog post for them; because they were the ones who made my trip an alluring one.

The first person is Elvis. He is a life guard. His shift was getting over in the evening, thus I asked him whether he would like to see  the sunset with me and he happily agreed. That evening, sunset seemed different. I come to realize that with the right people, sunset always, seems better. He is like Sea. Calm at one moment and Storm at another. And he owned it like a boss. This date with him, was one you read in novels, a long walk on the beach and a peck on cheek in the end. With him, Sea seemed new, fresh, and lovely. Just like you said, Elvis, I will come back because I haven’t lived at your beautiful home.

Then there was the guard at the casino – Apoorva. He came to this new city, far from the land where he was born and brought up. It was him, through which I gained the confidence that no matter which city I go, I will do just fine.

Mr.Bisht – he serves at the resort where I stayed. He became my cricket buddy. We saw the finals together. When I asked him what he felt about his tattoo, which is his name, he said, ” You do things. And then you stick by it. Like you had an option to select otherwise, but you did not. So now, own it up.” It stuck me right in my head. Heart too.

The Old man who belonged to the Sea. He helped me with the dog who wouldn’t stop following me.

And this foreigner who did nothing about guys cat-calling her or clicking pictures of her. She replied saying she was habitual. I was upset and infuriated. I strongly believe that if something  wrong is happening to you, you have to voice it. No matter what sex you are of.

There were many other people I met on this trip but the last one I want to mention is the lone traveler whose pictures I clicked. I am sorry I have lost your email. I still have the pictures I clicked of you. If ever you read this, contact me. We met at Palolem Beach on 21st May 2017 at around five.

I traveled by airplane for the first time. I was completely in awe when I saw the city from above. It was five in the morning and the city was already on the move. Mumbai, I confirmed at that moment, is the most beautiful city, and that no matter where I go, Bombay will always be my home.

As I stepped in my house, I came to realize that no matter how distant I am from my family, I love them and I missed them.

Such was my trip to Goa. Goa was warm to me and accepted me with open arms. I, however, couldn’t seem to enjoy because of my company. I promise to come back Goa and then I will love you, as much as you deserve.

 

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