The Absence of Happiness

They say:
It’s all in your head
That you’re merely overthinking
That you must at least make an effort.
They think that you chose this.
That’s not okay.

It’s bad enough that your brain
repeats the same words,
till you’re defenseless
and huddled in a corner,
yearning for a moment’s solitude
from your maddening thoughts.
But the well intentioned people
that surround you don’t understand.
That’s not okay.

They won’t understand
that sometimes breathing
is all you’re really capable of.
They won’t understand
that sometimes, even that feels pointless
and like too much effort.
They won’t understand
the emptiness that’s gnawing your insides
and eating you away,
one happy moment at a time.

We’re conditioned to think poorly
of the people fighting
the demons within their heads.
To ignore their suffering,
pretend it isn’t happening.
That’s not okay.

But perhaps they’ll understand
if you give them a suitable metaphor.
That you’re being chased by a Dementor
and your Patronus, or theirs,
cannot cannot chase it away.
No amount of chocolate will revive you
from the havoc already wreaked.
That this absence of happiness
is not by choice.

And maybe then,
instead of badgering you…
they’ll help you practice your spells
so that in the future, you’ll be okay.
And that, is so much better than just okay.

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Filed under Inspired by other creative works, Introspective, klash, Poetry, The world around me, Things that confuse me, Uncategorized

Beginnings

She sat by the window
and stared into the brown, grainy expanse
of barren, oft-trodden land.

Her feet itching,
her heart exploding,
she weighed the decision
against the weight of the traditions
that held her back.

She wasn’t afraid of getting lost,
it was the thought of being found
that crippled her.

Tired of cowering in corners,
hiding her bruises
and living in horror,
she walked out the front door
never looking back.

To everyone, it was the end of her marriage.
To her, it was the beginning of life.

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Choking…

The struggle of putting words on paper
is so very real.
It seems as if my words are choking
under the pressure of my sadness.
But every now and then
a scream pierces through the gag
and I spit out the words
because keeping them in makes me sick.

 
 

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Peek-a-boo!

A little boy
bundled up in his layered,
light-blue, balloon jacket
leans against the navy brick wall.
Legs apart, arms stretched,
leaning backwards,
his face turned upwards.

The sun peeks out,
from the bleached clouds.
He laughs aloud, runs towards
the bright sunlight and squeals
“caught you!”

And to humour the tyke,
the sun dances into
the nearby clouds.
And when it peeks out
after a while
the boy laughs,
runs forward – once again.

In that moment,
I swear that the sun
twinkled just a bit brighter.
The wind blew with a whoosh
joining in in laughter.

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Filed under Childhood, Inspired, Life at University, The world around me

To simply be….

The carved silver
on your ring finger
is a mark
of our union.

And the open spaces
around the etched words
are for your hands
to find mine
in times of need.

In every fidgeting whirl,
and unconscious touch –
I hear your heart
beckoning me.

And for each spin
the ring completes;
I whisper a blessing…
just like a prayer wheel
turning in the wind.

In every second of the touch
I am a reminder to simply be…

I saw someone wearing a ring with the chant “Om Mani Padme Hum” carved into it. The poem developed from the ring being a way of centering oneself. It was so complimentary to the intent of the chant that I could almost feel the poem writing itself. These are the words that it spoke.🙂

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Filed under Inspired, Introspective, Life at University, Poetry, The world around me

Homesickness

Homesickness.

Everyone says it can happen quite frequently in the first couple of months that you live away from home. It’s almost a rite of passage when you move away. I guess, even more so when you leave the country. The better part of the past two years of my life have been spent in the UK. It’s been a marvelous experience but I haven’t really missed home. Apart from an initial bout of homesickness when I first moved here in 2013, I haven’t had this incomprehensible surge of irrationality that eviscerates all logical thought. Sure, I’ve missed home and my family and friends. But I haven’t wanted to just drop everything and run home. And now, when I’ve had this persistent feeling for two days…I don’t really know how to deal with it.

Nothing’s changed. And yet, I feel completely different.

I know that a huge part of this yearning is because I’m missing out on my annual feast of literature. Every January, as a new year present and a pre-birthday celebration, my city transforms from a historical and tourist destination to a destination for art, culture, language and most crucially…literature. For five days, people with a deep-seated love for language come together under one massively overpopulated roof and celebrate everything it can possibly convey. Within the stuffily overcrowded halls, we huddle together and converse on every aspect of languages. Literature, fiction, journalism, poetry, forklore and social commentary – we have it all. It’s like we take a hiatus from our preoccupation with existence and focus on living.

My yearning for the festival isn’t blinding me to the social drama that plays out simultaneously. Nor am I forgetting the bitching, author tantrums, political drama and the constant one-upping of the program coordinators. Even with the incessant commercialization of the festival and its transformation into a page 3 carnival, the Jaipur Literature Festival is essentially a celebration of knowledge and culture. It really did feed my soul and provide me sustenance. Not being able to attend it isn’t as excruciating as not being able to spare a few hours to catch up on what’s been discussed. Perhaps I’d be less wistful if I could take a moment and just listen to the speakers. Perhaps I could even be happy with the content and ignore the joy of experiencing the event.

I guess it doesn’t say anything appreciable about me when I feel more yearning towards a literature festival than the possibility of spending time with my family. But that is a demon for another day. Today, I have to contend with this ache.

And I don’t know how to do that.

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Filed under Introspective, Life at University, Things that confuse me

Mourning

Frostbitten,
fumbling fingers
and numb hands
seek warmth
and rejuvenation
in crevices; through friction.

Icy air
pierces woolen layers;
suffocating,
strained lungs.

The stars
shed light
on abandoned streets,
skeletal trees.
Earth engulfed
by oppressive silence; deathly sleep.

‘Tis oft said for
a heart that’s dead –
is mourning what it
possesses no more.

I wonder then, what is being mourned by the deadening weather?

I know it’s a little depressing as the first post for the new year. But then, living in freezing temperatures (for the first time!) and reading a book that brings winters to life was too inspiring to not write.🙂

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Filed under Life at University, Poetry, The world around me