Skip to main content

Note to Self

Image Source: 1x.com. Introspection by Giulia Marangoni. Image used only for editorial representation. Copyrights of the image lie with the original artist only. 

Right now, everything matters and nothing does. The whys, the whos, the whens, and the whats. It will hurt. You will feel winded. And if you don’t, I’d be amazed. Every nerve in your body will be alive and kicking. They will feel everything and nothing; the ones that don’t need attention and the ones that cry out loud. You will be numb, and you won’t do anything about either of them. They will stew, just like you.

In that big head of yours, a thousand thoughts will plan a marathon and forget to take off. One might do, and you’d feel as if your head will explode. Your stomach will hurt and so will your throat for that lack of gumption, and the missing voice and words.

You’d look over a ledge and want to take the plunge, yet, give it up for another day. Walking away, you will imagine how you would look splattered all over the pavement, the colors of your insides splashed all over. But no one will know what these colors feel or say. Today, it will seem like too much.

You will head out on that impromptu trip. Wandering, floating a lake or in a river, admiring the green foliage will fail to make you feel. But feel you will. Hurt you will. Like every inch of your body crying out in pain, your brain failing to understand the signals or rather, simply choosing to ignore them. It will leave you confused, weathered, battered and beaten. You will still wake up, brush your teeth, bathe, dress up and step out for work.

You will paste that smile, join in the laughter, eat a hearty yet tasteless meal and think about that jump from the ledge, the one that is postponed for another day.

Anger will surge through you, making you spill hot tears, bleeding you dry. You will wet the sheets, look pale and purge any vestige of ill. It won’t cure you, but it might hurt less for a day.

Overwhelming as it is, if your train your impulses to stay away from that ledge, it will be fine. If you can distract yourself with anything like a dead leaf floating in the breeze, you’d be fine.


If you have made it through for so long, you will make it through today. It will get better; not today, not tomorrow but someday. And remember, all of this is okay. You will heal in as much time you need. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

#Sorry not sorry

I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).


But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…

I Wonder What Ants do on Rainy Days…

Source: Google Images
On days when the sun has abandoned us, hiding behind the grey, moody clouds. Do they sit inside their hills and wonder out loud? Do they stare outside at the rain, measuring the raindrops, letting thoughts splotch all over? Does the earthy petrichor take them down the memory lane? Or are they content with what nature has to offer? It is a part of their lives, isn’t it? They dredge up foods daily, diligently build their hills, even if it is to serve their queen, only to enjoy it on days like this, no? Maybe they do take stock of things, of their bearings. They ought to sleep it off, take a day to rest or do they lament on the lost time?
Unlike me.
When I gaze out, a gazillion thoughts fly by; some worthy of the pen, some so disturbing that I often question my sanity. I like the grey skies though. They seem like textured canvases waiting for me to scribble something. The lazy raindrops wetting the streets below and casting a temporary stain on window ledges bring a…

Celebrating Navratri? Stop now as we have no right to worship the female form...

Today my mom asked me to go get fall bidding done for her new saree. Navratri has begun and Durga Pujo is just around the corner. This year we are planning to go Pandal hopping on a Saptami instead of an Ashtami or Navmi to avoid the jams and the crowds. I will wear a saree too and my Punjabi husband will tag along for the delicious food.
In a multicultural household like mine, most festivals are a big deal, especially Navratri and Durga Pujo. But in the hullabaloo of festivities, we don’t stop to think of its essence – why do we celebrate Durga Pujo or Navratri at all. To celebrate Ma Shakti – a prompt answer from my mother. Navratri is a celebration of the nine stages of womanhood – a tribute to the power of the female.But to us commoners, it is a festival of dancing to the tunes of Garba or dandiya or Bollywood music. It is our turn to wear our best clothes, head out in the night, meet family and be merry. And once, this is over, the female form goes back to being what they always a…