For The Wildest Mystery I Know

Being in love with you, is like being lost in the sea for decades. Like, you know you are lost and there’s no way to get back to the shore, but you see a similar someone in the same life raft as you. And even though, I might be still lost in the middle of the sea, with you, I know I’m home.  

Artwork by Rohan Rane
Artwork by Rohan Rane

I had always been a mess. Messy hair, lost eyes, abstract thoughts, a blurry self. I could say my life was an unfinished piece of art, and the saddest part was I wasn’t even trying to work on it.

This was before you happened.

It didn’t happen overnight, certainly. You just made a difference day after day, magic after magic. A life, a little different, a little better.

With you, love was mornings spent between laughs and giggles; with you, love was maturity and beauty; with you, love was peace; with you, love is uncovering your mysteries, one kiss at a time.

You were the artist who transformed me, an unfinished piece of art into a masterpiece. You didn’t do much, honestly. Just sprinkled the right amount of magic and there I was; a work of art, in itself.

Until next time,

Love. 

Your Life Is As Real As Any ‘Famous Person’.

It’s funny how quick we are to applaud celebrities from all around the world when they come out to talk about their depression, addictions, or even abusive relationships. We think it makes them almost humans, no? Almost very brave, somehow! But.. What about you? YOU! A 100-percent-non-celebrity-with-a -real-job? What about your complete experience? Are you blessed with a state of mind to talk about your most gripping and tragic life experiences? Do you have someone to confide in? Or are you going through a depression hell, hoping someone would take notice as to why you don’t smile like you used to, anymore? Hoping someone will coax you out of your lonely, self-loathing shell called ‘false bravado’ that you apparently pretend to happily live in? Are you hoping they’ll read between the lines and come save you? Someone like Us. The Us who are so quick to not miss the trending topic to praise and vouch support for celebrities on Twitter and share the same redundant links featuring their stories? Do you have a rock solid somebody you can trust with your life?

I DO.

When I was struggling through new school, bullied by kids of the same age as me for being too skinny, who obviously didn’t know better, I had my mother stand by me, protecting me, fiercely.

When I was stuck in a college for three years I didn’t want to, harassed by a staff member, I had my family supporting me, steadfast.

When I endured the worst break-up of my life, or hit a dead-end at work and surrendered to accepting my fate, I had my closest friends storm in and rescue me in an ambush.

 

And day after day as I battle my demons and face my fears; old and new, I have myself. I have the strongest force of nature residing inside my body, fuelling me like some raging forest fire. Like the ocean destroying the shore, but lovingly. Like another me, but stronger, fierce and deathly calm.

So tell me, do you have someone to back you like a titanium wall? Someone to listen to you talk, without judgment?

Because you deserve to be heard! You deserve an outlet. Your life is as real as any “famous person”. Real, and worthy of attention and love.

Every single day.

 

Blank Space

You don’t know about struggle until you don’t know what to write when you need to write the most. You observe, stare rather, into infinity, hoping for an idea to strike, you lie down in your bed, shift sides countless times and then you stare into nothing again. Holding a pen, nibbling the end, thinking maybe observing things around would work. But no thoughts come. Usually, this is peaceful, having no thoughts whatsoever. Having a state of mind, so blissfully at peace and quietude. But then you have to write and your mind is still clear, and seems on an indefinite leave. What then, do you do? Do you disturb your peace just to write? Or do you restlessly give up? This happens to me often, but I still write. I scribble. I write my thoughts down but I write. I let the ideas and words skip my peaceful mind and let it straightly flow down to my lips as I mouth each word, and down to my arms and fingertips as I type each letters and punctuation. Or I write about not being able to write, just like what I’m doing now. But I don’t stop. 

Happy 2017 to you! 🙂

2016: The Year That Is Done!

2016: The year of making smart, sane choices. 365  days of positivity & happiness. Can safely say, this year has given me a lot to be thankful for.

 Moved out of a wrong career choice, a wrong relationship. Started over to find happiness lies in the smallest of things.

Applied for a dream job and got it. Met some absolutely amazing people and realised life is much more and beyond anxiety and overthinking. 
Got rid of people, got rid of negativity, of the voices in the head that held me back from doing things I love. Smiled more often. Changed as a person. Grew out of toxicity. 

Travelled. Travelled a lot more than I had imagined I would. Spontaneous trips and doing things I was absolutely terrified of doing without batting an eye, said yes to life and no to fear. 

2016 would have sucked if I hadn’t let the past years’ mistakes empower me. 

Time flies. Don’t live a life you’re not proud of. 

Happy New Year. 

Stop Romanticising Depression!

Of late, I have come across a bunch of hoodwinked people who assume and believe that Depression and Anxiety affects only the less privileged part of the society. Clearly, these people have never faced uneasiness, random pangs of sadness, overpowering them and eventually bumming them down!

Honestly, Depression was never about those temporary bouts of regular old sadness. Depression is certainly not some black and white image with goth boy staring out of a window and some stupid quote caked on to it.  It’s just like your regular illness that you wish went away, but worse. Because, nobody comes out and says “I have a disorder” or “I need help.” For whatever reason, opening up about it isn’t something we all do. Nobody hides the truth, but at the same time none of us are facing it head-on either.

It’s almost impressive how worthless depression and anxiety can make you feel. Here’s the thing, get it straight or get out: People get sad. People get depressed. And people cry. No one has the right to say that they can’t and worse, to be happy and say “it’s just a phase” because it doesn’t ever get better.

Depression can hit anybody, regardless of their sex, age, or country. You might have a lot of friends, but you might feel like curling up in a corner and not have any human interaction for days at all. You’d skip sleep but at the same time feel never to get out of the bed. You skip meals because eating feels like a chore. Your friends and family worry about you but eventually they get used to your absence every now and then. They stop asking you what’s wrong because they never get the right answer. What would you say to them anyway? You might have a hundred thousand people by your side when you don’t need them but the moment you do, there’s no one at all. All your nightmares begin to seem to come to reality. And the voices in your head, oh the voices never die.

This is what depression is and if people knew even one fourth of what it feels like to go through the this, they wouldn’t joke around about it. They wouldn’t tell people that it’s ‘spur-of-the-moment’ thing or to get over it or to look at the bright side. There is no bright side for us.

So, don’t let people tell you that your problems are less important than the problems somebody else might have. It’s never the case. Don’t make them make your tough situation any tougher.

Feelings

Because nobody tells you that losing the person you love most in the universe feels like dying. They tell you it hurts and they tell you it’s lonely but they don’t tell you that it feels like something crawled its way into your chest and tore your heart out, that inside your head you’re standing before a gaping blackness screaming ‘give them back to me’ until you choke and beg every god in the sky to drown you in your own breath. They don’t tell you that when you open your doors and look up at the stars, you can’t see them anymore, that sometimes you’ll miss them until your body aches, miss them until your heart breaks. They don’t tell you that you’ll see them in everything, everywhere, and that their pretty jacket you once snuggled on, on the chair will make you want to run until your head spins and your blood stops because if you keep moving then maybe God, maybe, you won’t see their face as clearly as the day you first met them because the image won’t have time to settle. Because you can’t hide forever. You cannot hide forever. They don’t tell you it makes you want to die. Quietly. Just … just quietly. Slip into the night with no noise or audience. They don’t tell you it kills you. And they don’t tell you there will always be a wall, an unbreachable, unending wall, that looms at the edge of all your horizons and will wake you up in a cold sweat night after night after night. They don’t tell you a lot of things, really. And you know, I’m not sure they if ought to. But you do realize that you never change, you never do. It’s just the way you look at things change. Your perspective, your attitude towards people, towards life, changes.
In my life, I’ve been lied to, cheated on, disrespected and every possible thing one could imagine. I’ve learned that you can keep going, long after you think you can’t.
You should appreciate what still remains and look forward to what’s coming next.
Well, surprisingly good days are coming. I think it’s time to be happy again.
People say nothing’s impossible but say whaaaaat? One should totally know the mantra “I can and I will”
I know this post took a major swing from emo to preaching, well, I told you CHANGE IS GOOD, CHANGE IS INEVITABLE!

The thing called Transformation.

Remember the story of the ugly duckling? Maybe they all don’t become swans. But what they all do turn into makes for a more exciting, lovely story called life.

When I was growing up, I was absurdly thin, I had terribly funny teeth and went on to have painfully dark skin. I had these God awful shabby fringes that did not suit my face. I wore absolutely unflattering clothes. I was laughed at for being so tall. I looked way older than my age. My posture got worse every time I felt ugly. Social gatherings and small talk scared me. I wanted to be in the library or the park every evening. I wanted to sit like a boy. Didn’t matter to anyone that I was intelligent or had big dreams. No!

This girl once said “oh, you look nice today…from behind”. Another girl said “Let’s put some make up on you so you can look pretty”. I ruined every photograph. I made parties boring. I wore my skirt too high. I was eating too much. No boy had a crush on me or wanted to write me silly love letters. I wasn’t pretty but my exam results made everyone happy.
This went on for years together. I stopped caring. I stopped giving a fuck. And gradually something changed. Funny teeth made for a big, happy smile. Thinness gave way to curves. Hair pins and conditioner made for good hair days. Clothes meant for curves were found. Sense of humor and love for people led to great conversations. Men at bars were offering to buy drinks (Oh, the joy of politely declining!) Compliments were growing in number. Standing tall became sexy!

I’m so grateful that I had it in me to laugh it all off. That I had enough sense to know looks do not matter. I still can’t take a compliment without making an awkward situation out of it. I still cannot look straight into the camera without cringing a little. But today, I can show you my “not pretty” pictures from the past and we can laugh together at my rabbit teeth. Today I will compliment at least one person. Today I can travel, make friends, fall madly in love, laugh, help people, eat enormous pizzas and live the way I want to. None of the things I love doing involves looking pretty and God am I happy!