someoneinthemidstoflife

[someoneinthemidstoflife]

to lost touches and wandered gazes

Words speak, but silences mean. The silences are usually filled with glances and gazes that utter volumes, with held hands and hugs that convey emotions. 

It is weird, how on some days the same pair of eyes and the same hugs that once spelled care, love, affection would start spelling distance, hatred and boredom. There are days when we spot stories in the eyes of someone, with deep delving secrets and long lost touches. There is just a lot that the eyes speak about. There are days when some eyes smile a lot but twinkle quite less, not because the dreams have succumbed to a storm the world has to offer, but because the dreams are shattered by the big blows reality bestowed on them. 

There are days when some hugs mean the world to us, hold us close and make us want to hold onto the moment tight, to never lose again. Alas, these moments, just like the sand from the beach, the tighter they are held, the quicker they are to lose. There are days, when some held hands mean nothing more than 2 skins touching each other, held together for the sake of it. There are days when the hugs feel like peeling of the skin and the touch they levied upon us, not because we have ceased finding meanings in them. 

There are days when the eyes are filled with brimming tears, but they daren’t blink because they don’t have the strength now, to let the last of them go. For these tears, they are the only ones that refuse to leave. The tears hold onto the eyes, because even they have nowhere to go, they have nowhere to find meaning now. There are days when the eyes, they feign acquaintance, when actually, deep down there is a touch of strangeness to the line of vision. When they look into yours, you know, they have known you, you have seen dreams with those eyes, you have knitted your feelings with them; and now all you want to know is that they would someday like to share another dream with you, probably look at you and still shine their eyes like they use to when they saw you at the end of the road, still have the same warmth they had when they heard from you. 

Touches fade and gazes wander and then the eyes and the hugs are left in a sudden stillness, with emptiness and yet filled with remorse, sadness, wounds and of all questions. 

[someoneinthemidstoflife]

to walks

There is always a thin line between imagination and reality and that accounts for a dream-like reality. To me, that little place always felt oddly yet beautifully cold, with some music playing faintly, with a dainty yellowish orange glow like the one mid-street, with a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on, with footsteps to match to and silences that put just everything into its place. 

Silences are beautiful, but to have them shared, just puts away all the little insecurities one carries. It just feels like all could be right and nothing would ever fade. I do gaze at the interlock of the bricks, as I continue to walk down, it seems like a never ending pattern, with intricate meaning to me; pfft, I agree it could mean nothing to someone. But then, here I am, finding meaning in the smallest of the things. I do get asked, if I try and find the meaning ? Oh surely not, certain things just come to us in a way we never expect and that they aren’t found or looked for, they happen, slowly and ethereally. 

There is a lot of dynamic in stillness, it washes over you with a wave of itself. The lake could be still, but its aura isn’t; there are passersby walking, the lamp flickering, the little fish moving around, the dogs running past, the air … the air plainly existing. It just comes across the mind that all of it could be fallen in love with, its the mindset that one needs. 

The loneliest of the songs could feel fulfilling and the evenings would feel special, the air would feel liberating and the mind would find its peace. The walks… they throw me off in a way nothing can. They make me want to raise a toast to them, those that happen in a hurry, those where you walk half fast and half slow, those where you walk trying to match footsteps with, those where you sniff the air to feel the scent of happiness, those where you walk alone and those… where you walk … together and collected… 

[someoneinthemidstoflife]

Swing me High

Could you swing me high ? I am short and my legs don’t reach the ground, yet I love to swing. It is much of an addiction; every park, every little recreational area, if equipped with a swing is my place forever.

My liking for the swing is quite explained, I do have hopes- like any other human being would- and they reach the highest high in a split second and come crashing down the very next. I sit on swings and give them a gentle nudge, because the higher they get, the stronger my fear grows; my fear, of going deep down and never coming up. I would love to drown, but to be buried, rings all the alarms in my body.

I will keep staring at the night sky and swing all the time, all alone. There is a swing beside me and its empty. Not a soul wanders by it. I empathize with it and so I get down and give it a nice push. the chains creak and the swing wobbles slightly, but it sounds happy to me. I find my companion in this lone night, under the endless sky, full of twinkling stars.

I hear a meek laughter and I turn around… The laughter grows and now echoes in my ears, I realised the swing was now swinging like someone was seated on it… It had its rhythm and I had the heart to keep pushing it, for the sake of it. The nightly gust of wind blew and my eyes teared up, they felt cold, so did my ears and nose, but I dared not blink. I didn’t want to stop the welling up, because I wanted to cry, atleast today.

The swing grew lighter and I felt a hand come up on my shoulder and I jerked it off. I screamed for the first time in many years,”WHO ARE YOU ? I DON’T CARE !!! I WANT YOU TO GO AWAY, NOT BECAUSE I AM SCARED, BUT BECAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU.” The swing became heavier and I in silence kept pushing the swing to and fro again. The swing started moving on its own and I went to the farther edge of the play area.

I sat down and aimlessly looked at the sky, trying to make a figure out of the stars and may be mirror myself their. I found myself falling deeper and deeper again. I could hear that someone tell me,” I know you are hurting and would you want me to give you a swing ?”

Unknowingly, I got up and sat on the swing, I kept going higher and higher, but not for once did I come crashing down. I realised I had learned to trust and I knew that now my swing would know no bounds. After a long time, I had let someone push me again, I couldn’t see them, but I knew I trusted them.

I reached out to the stars I loved and suddenly… and suddenly, I crashed down, fell face first and broke myself !!! It was near dawn and the sky was brightening up slowly, the no-one that pushed me was lost… again !!!

I screamed and wailed, because my trust was broken, was lost, was torn and shredded into pieces. I had just learned to piece it and it was again torn to pieces. I tried to call it back, I wanted it to be near, but it wasn’t and I saw the sun rise alone, with a burning and tained soul. I knew, trust was never my cup of tea and that swings were never meant for me !!!

I will still dream of a swing, but I will never venture near one, for now, lonely swings, swinging by themselves, bring me to a standstill and put a cold spear right through me. I silently scream,” leave me (swing me) !!!” and I go away….

[someoneinthemidstoflife]

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[someoneinthemidstoflife]

Broccoli is indeed great.

Broccoli contains twice the amount of Vitamin C than and orange. It contains as much calcium as whole milk, and is more readily absorbed by our bodies.

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[someoneinthemidstoflife]

Can I call it a Home ?

I will walk along all the narrow paths and all the wider ones too… But to where will they lead me ? I know I will go astray, but I know I will return… But to where? I will look up in all the maps and make many more too… But to where will they all point ?

I dont know what to call a home. Some say its the place where we put off all our inhibitions and have the liberty to do whatever that comes to our mind. It is the place where all our aesthetic pleasures come to a point of convergence with our comfort. It is a place where we are at ease when ill, and the only place that we would want to go back to.

I dont know what to call a home. Some say its the person to whom we can talk to without inhibitions. It is the person who will share all our sorrows and pleasures, it gives the feeling of homecoming. It is the person whose mere touch makes one feel like getting better in illness. It is the person whom we can hug and not feel suffocated. It is the only person who makes us want to return to.

I dont know what to call home. Some days I sit at the window of my dormitory and I feel all the things that one should and I call it home, but some random day when I see the sun set, at the lakeside, painting the sky in beautiful hues and the breeze around, it makes me want to call it home. Some days I am in my university and the classroom with peals of laughter makes me want to call it home. Some days I am at the place I was born and brought up and I want to call it home.

I dont know what to call home. Some days at the window of dormitory, I see a curly haired girl, with the prettiest smile, look out for me and make me food (undraloo) and I want to call her home, but some random day I am at the lake side, watching the sunset with someone I hope to and I want to call him my home. Some days I am in my university and the guy with round glasses, the guy with his head full of curly hair, the girl with a hearty smile, the girl with the best hugs, and all the people with the best hearts, make me want to call them home. Some days I am at the place where I was birthed and brought up by 2 immensely sweet people and a boy with a nice heart make me call them home.

I dont know what to call home. I want to believe that it is the place where I can run into the arms and not regret it, I can watch sunsets and not alone, I can have fun and feel likewise too. I only want to believe that a home like that exists, ‘cuz honestly I don’t know what/whom to call home !!!

[someoneinthemidstoflife]

Found some excellent expression of thoughts and couldn't resist reposting it.#theleafthatfelloff#divine

We as humans, always crave for warmth in our lives. We are always in search of a cozy overall that could cover us, whilst we curl up against the wall; of a hug that could envelop us so well that the thought of leaving it never occurs; of a hoodie so warm that our hands in its pockets make it a beautiful forever… 

The crackling bonfire and the blazing orange yellow light falling on my face, made me fall in love with myself, not because I looked beautiful, but because for the first time, I was content alone. I tugged onto my hoodie and drew my knees closer to my chest watching the stars twinkle and tell me stories of travellers, they had seen walk down the same path.

A few cats had curled around the bonfire, basking in the glow of the miniature sun (bonfire); and suddenly the wind blew. It blew in such fierceness, that it swooped away the little light I had and left me in darkness. It wasn’t the darkness that took away my courage, the idea that I had to keep loving myself even in circumstances of darkness -times like these- did the job.

The cinder kept glowing red, and gave the little warmth it could. It was the one selfless act I saw in a lifetime. It was burnt, very little of it remained, yet it glowed and glowed till it was reduced to ashes; only to give some warmth. The cats had strayed away, in search of another source of warmth.

I could, now hear, the sound of crickets, the rustling of the leaves, the distant howls of the wolves and the shuffling of deers’ hooves; I could hear, the sound of life running for life, ahead of lives, that ran for sustaining their lives.

It all seemed surreal and for the first time I realised how little the universe cares about one single person. I don’t wish to belittle the space we occupy in it, but afterall it really doesn’t matter much when one person ceases to exist. It pushed me to go towards the edge of the cliff, where I could attain my leap of faith.

As I neared the end of it, I stumbled on a twig and clutched frantically in the air for support, and thats when PROJECT Leap of Faith cancelled itself and I saw why I needed to live. The very first rays of sun fell upon my face and I realised that love wasn’t love if it was indebted to vision, audio, light, dark, ability or for that matter anything that had credit to itself.

I had to build myself up in pieces that were strewn away only because of my one faltered trust. It is natural for a human to trust, but it is an inherent responsibility to look after one’s mental peace, even if the trust is shattered by those closest. I faltered at my responsibilty and hence amn’t supposed to blame another.

The sun rose and I drifted off to sleep, clutching my hoodie and yearning for the warmth I deserved; but for now tried to provide it to myself by nothing short but a warm cup of chai and some thoughts I once shared, now kept all to myself !!!

#cliffside path #bonfire #books #tea #peace #sukoon #lovethyself #Thoughts #nightfall