The fraud

She looked his way and with a brisk wave and stifled smile, muttered goodnight and turned towards the door. She left the party and walked a few steps when the familiar voice spoke from behind her. 

“I though we’d never meet again” 

She paused on her way.

“So did I”

He moved a step closer toward her.

“What happened to all your laughter? I used to tell people about it”

She turned to face him.

“Your memories have been kind to me.”

“You seem different. Cold. Whatever happened to the girl everyone fell in love with?”

She looked him straight in the eyes, indignantly.

“She was an imposter. Her fate was the same as that of any other fraud. She got found out and was forced to drop her act.”

He looked back at those eyes and before he could form his thoughts into a sentence, she promptly turned around and walked away as fast as she could, without running. She was glad she didn’t bring her car today and the subway was a long walk away. She’d need the walk.

He wanted to follow her. He wanted to ask her more questions. He was angry. How could she call the only girl he has ever loved an imposter? How could she lose her so easily? 

Yet he couldn’t move. Or speak. He kept standing there for a while after she left. The chilly wind was somehow comforting.

“Honey, here, you forgot your coat inside! Why did you come out in such a hurry?”

He turned around to face the voice. His wife.

“Oh! I am sorry! I just had a call I had to take. Let’s go inside now.”

News Of Death

A word in a shriek. Many more words.

She looked up.

Words and more words and more.…

Wait, she can't hear them anymore. Everything is moving. Lips, people, things. Yet she can't hear any of it.

Everything is moving. She is not. She is trying. She can’t.

Her limbs. They feel different. Light? Cold? Warm? Loose? Absent.

She sees everything yet her brain refuses to process her vision.

There's no air. She can't breathe.

Vacuum.

A moment. The longest moment her memory permits.

Years later, she will live this moment again. It wasn’t a shriek this time. It was three telephone rings.

And a few more years later, yet again. It wasn't a shriek or a ring. This time it was her name, in an unfamiliar tone, that led the words.

These vacuums never came alone.

There was always a predecessor moment when everything was unassumingly normal, that she would remember with uncanny precision every time her memory took her back to them.

And the succeeding moment when she was thrust into all the chaotic movement and sound around her, with her loose limbs and her sleeping voice gathering sudden voluntary momentum, without her conscious permission.

She never knew what to make of the vacuum.

Was it a monster holding her back too tight, suffocating her and forcefully shutting her ears rendering her mute, inanimate and deaf for the longest minute?

Or was it an angel of kindness, permitting her a moment of transit, devoid of every thing, every feeling, before her life changes forever?

Taking away a piece of her, leaving her broken forever, but gifting her a moment of numbness before she feels it?

A kind monster?

Li'l Girl

Who hurt you li’l girl?
I did.
Who broke you?
I did.
But you’re bleeding!
Who gave you these wounds li’l girl?
I did.
Surely not!
Did he? Or him ? Or her? Or she?
No, No.
It’s just me, just me.
Won’t you cry li’l girl?
I did.
Won’t you call for help?
I did.
But no one’s stopping!
Who’ll fix you li’l girl?
I will.
Surely not!
Won’t he? Or him ? Or her? Or she?
No, No.
It’s just me, just me.

Hope ?

                "Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man"

                                                                                                                -Friedrich Nietzsche

It is the hope of an oasis perhaps, that keeps a thirsty man lost in a dessert going. Why else would he take another step? 

Hope, one would say, is a necessary delusion to survive in a world which is out to get you. 

On a subconscious level, hope gives us the power to take control in our disappointment. It allows us to choose how and when the disappointment reaches us. When the world lets us down, hope allows us to reject the world's dictum and take the reigns of power in our hands by choosing to believe in a probable version of the story that may become our reality at a future time. It makes us feel empowered. We feel we are in control of choosing the hope of happiness over the reality of  our disappointment. Indeed an intoxicating promise for a broken heart.
We need hope, we do.
Yet sometimes, this empowerment is really just an illusion. A rather tormenting one. We hold on to a version of the truth that doesn't presently exist in reality and might not even in the future. But somewhere in us a faint whisper tells us that, if we hold on to it a little longer, if we keep faith, if we give it more time, if we wait for the right moment to come, if we are a little more patient.........if, if only!
It is a shackle. It binds us to something we need to give up on.
But how do we know? How do we know when the empowerment becomes imprisonment? How do we know when to give up hope on hope?
It could be a casual question thrown in a joke, an empty laughter, an unspoken word, a broken smile, a silent stare, it maybe subtle or  it may be really loud, but when it happens, somewhere, somehow a switch flicks. We lose hope. It is perhaps the most liberating experience. To be free finally from the burden to believe in an illusion. Liberated from the obligation of holding on.
Hope doesn't necessarily bring us happiness, but rather encourages us to hold on to a version of the story that doesn't really exist. Never did. Probably never will.
And what if it does exist? Well trust the future to bring it to you, if it so pleases. But don't expect it, don't hope for it. Don't let your present be limited by the hope of your future. Don't let an illusion limit your reality. At least the present and it's reality is yours. Why jeopardise what's yours for what might never be?
I would rather accept the truth and be heartbroken than fool my heart with promises of happiness I will never be able to deliver on.
Knowing it will never happen is so much more liberating than hoping it does. There's an odd sense of peace in the knowledge.
So, Give Up.
Lose Hope.
Move On.
Be Free.

"....and she was loved."

I don’t know about you, but no matter how much I kid the world, I crave perfect stories. You know the kind that fairytales are made of and every time you retell it people go “aww, that is perfect!”?! 

I have gone around often, declaring how I love our messed up world and it’s imperfections and how only imperfections are perfect, but all the while I have secretly hoped and prayed for perfect moments in every story I have ever lived. 

Am I a hypocrite, then ? Well, maybe! But I am not the only one, am I?

Don’t we all try to validate our stories with meaning and sense and some sort of a ‘coming to a full circle’ ending ? Yes, we know better, we know that the best stories are tragic, the best loves unrequited, but is knowing that enough to satiate our need for ‘perfect’ and ‘forever’ and ‘happily ever after’?

Believe me you, I am true in my appreciation for the universe’s sense of irony and the poetic justice that often flatters our sombre tales.

But, inspite of that,  every time I walk into a new chapter in my life, I can’t help but secretly and a bit perversely perhaps, hope for a perfect set of firsts that all link together to make absolute sense.

But it doesn’t. 

That’s not ‘eureka' material though, we already know that. But somehow I never admit that, at least not to myself.

I have always told myself that we live in our own 21st century version of fairytales and it does have a perfect happy ending, after all. 

Lie.

Wait, I am not saying life isn’t a fairytale. I am saying perhaps it is not the fairytale we think it is.

Okay go back to all the fairytales that you have ever read, heard, overheard or maybe wrote.

If we cut out the prince and the princess and the ‘once upon a time’ and the ‘happily ever after’ the perfect kiss and the prince rescuing the princess…yeah so basically almost all of it, what are we left with ? 

Love.

In some or any or every form. Love.

Parental, Romantic, Friendly, Humanitarian……Love.

So what I am saying is that maybe, love and love only, is our fairytale. 

That this monumental emotion, incapable of definition, is perhaps all the salvation we need.

Whether it is your family, your friends, a legitimate love interest, or just your pet, you have been, are and will be loved, by at least one living being. 

And that there, is your perfect story. That is all you need to tell, all anyone needs to know.

In the mean time I will continue to go about my life faltering, breaking, falling, collapsing, hurting, crying, howling, smiling, kidding, laughing….living.

But when they write my story, if they say “…and she was loved”, hope you’ll know that I have lived a fairytale.

Lest you forgot to....

Did you smell the grass today ?
No, really. Did you find time to walk by a park a take a long deep breath inhaling the smell of grass and earth ? And smile because you had forgotten that smell !?

Did you drop an old friend you were once inseparable with, separated by time, work, commitments or maybe even countries a text today ? Just a simple "Hi, how are you ?".
And no, creep texting or stalking your ex doesn't count !

Did you do something stupid today?
Not "haha I'm so silly" stupid but embarrassingly "kill me now" stupid ?

Did you laugh at something so hard you almost felt your stomach in your throat ?

Did you forgive someone ?

Did you try to make someone else's day better, with no matter how small a gesture?

Did someone smile because of you?

Did you greet a stranger?

Did you make a loved one happy?

If it's raining, did you try catching rain drops ? If it's sunny, did you try staring at the sun from in between your fingers and look away just before it blinds you ?

Did you tell your parents that you love them?

Did you order something new instead of just the regular at your favourite restaurant today ?

Did you make funny faces at a baby till he burst into a toothless giggle?

Did you pray for someone else today? Or if you're an atheist, did you genuinely wish someone well today ?

Did you make yourself happy today?
Not the doing-something-good-for-someone-else happy but the selfish, unapologetic doing-something-for-yourself-to-make-you-happy, happy ? Perhaps go shopping without a reason and splurge on that top you don't need-need but want-need or find time to start re-reading your favourite book or write a little or just take a break and relax with a cup of tea in your favourite mug or something, anything else that makes you intensely happy even if for a moment !?

Do you at least have one story to tell from today ? Like, give you're friend a call and start with " you won't believe what happened today...." or perhaps, " hey guess what I did today...." ?!

So, what I am asking you is, did you LIVE today ?

Or did work, family, meetings, appointments, picking up groceries, paying bills and other responsibilities bury you too much ?

If it did, apologise to yourself and start again tomorrow. Make yourself a promise. A promise to live, not just survive through the day. Only you have the right to decide how your day will be. So choose to live today, tomorrow, everyday.
Because one day there will be no tomorrow and today will be all you have. Live enough everyday to be able to look back on all your yesterdays on that day and smile, content and proud that you have used up all of your life and no one could have done it better.

For the love of.....

She had always loved the lingering,chilly, piercing wet wind that followed the rain, felt alive with the brazen cold winds engulfing her as her skin prickled.

Sunny was never her thing. Overrated, she thought to herself, smirking, every time someone gushed about all things bright and well, sunny !

Yet this morning was different. The sun was out in all it's enigmatic glory . And she loved, loved, LOVED it. 

She loved the warmth of the sun caressing her cheeks. Smiled as the rays, she once complained to be too harsh, kissed her eyelids. She glowed as the blush of happiness enveloped her.

Odd.

Was she having an affair with the Sun all of a sudden?

The Sun, whose power to cheer people, she had dismissed all her life?

Surely not!

What was it then ?

Undoubtedly it was love. 

No other emotion has you acting like a fool, loving all things you once claimed to hate with a vengeance ! 

Ofcourse it was love !

So, rather, who was it ?

She tiptoed back to her room, her feet springing in joy and dance.

At the door, she almost choked with happiness as she looked at her bed. It was basked in sunlight. 

She snuggled on her favourite corner and stared out of the window at the city lazily, gruntingly just waking up to a new day.....closing her eyes she took a deep breath, inhaling as much of the sun as possible !

Standing up, she walked to the mirror. Looked at her reflection.

And it was then that she knew. 

Yes she was in love. She was absolutely, completely, totally, fully, non-negotiably in love.

With herself.

All of her. Her flaws and scars and marks and all the brokenness inside that no one else knew about. All of it !

She was in love, no qualifications attached. 

She no longer hated her left eyebrow for never really arching as well as the right one. She no longer hated the small finger of her feet for being crooked. She no longer found the ring of her uncontrollable laughter embarrassing. The acne marks on her cheek didn't seem to annoy her anymore. Her protruding chin seemed kinda cute too !

It was the newest,oddest and yet most refreshing and freeing feeling she had ever experienced.

To be in love with yourself, your beauty and your flaws, is really the day you start living, yes, she had read about all that fancy stuff, never buying a word of it, never believing it to be at all possible.

But what between being pushed around and pushing back and finding a way, mending broken hearts and healing scars, waking up every day and not giving up, dreaming and struggling, losing and occasionally winning, being happy and trying to make a couple of others happy, existing and surviving, she had fallen in love. Without any warning or planning. Unapologetic love. The forever kind.

Today it wasn't the Sun. Or the weather. It was Her. 

She was the reason, the cause, the effect, the result. She was the story. No introduction, no conclusion. She was enough. Her story was enough. There is no going back now.