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Thoughts After My Near Death Experience. (Drowning)

Dear Stranger Who Once Claimed To Love me,

Two days back I almost drowned in the fast rushing water along with half of my family. As two days have passed and my bruised and afflicted body has overcome the state of petrification, vague thoughts have become quite vivid. You know the worst and best part of it was that if I had died I would’ve died trying to save the people I love. I’m proud of myself for being alive and I would’ve been proud if I had died because I would’ve died for “love”.

48 hours after that incident the ruthless rain with thunder storm accompaniment outside my window has forced me to think about you.

It afflicts my tormented soul to think that..

... I would’ve died in the blues and you would’ve stayed alive oblivious of the burns, scars and pain you caused me every single day after you decided to pack your things and depart from my life without giving me any sort of justification. Was I not even worth saying goodbye to?

…I would’ve died without showing you the holes you made in my heart that nothing in the world can refill…

…oh and how my eyes have cried for nights flooding my own room with the memories of your whispers feeding my soul those sweet beautiful lies that my ears longed to hear…

.. how the smell of your body lingering through every corner of my house hits me like a hammer on my naive heart breaking it into thousands and thousands of pieces everytime I gasp for air..

.. how many a days I drowned myself in the shattered pieces of the promises you made and broke without a hint of guilt…

… I would’ve died and you would’ve remained oblivious of the suffering that you caused me…

..  but the truth is that you already know of the suffering you just don’t care. This thought gave me pause or at least a lash of sentimental static that I can’t quite elaborate in words right now.. alive or not either way love would’ve been the death of me…

Anyway the good part is that I made it out alive. You know when I was pulled out of water to the shore gasping out loud resting my body on a huge rock I knew this wasn’t just an ordinary accident. I knew God had given me and my family another chance and an another life.

I don’t know what I’ll do in this second life of mine but I’m pretty sure you don’t belong in this one so I just wrote this to tell you that when I was struggling in the gushing water a part of me drowned and that’s the part that onced longed for you.

Good bye.

 Never going near water ever again.

Approval Comes From Within.

She was scrolling through her facebook newsfeed when she came across the pictures of the party thrown about three days ago. She was very excited to see the pictures and clicked the album without wasting a single second.  As the torment of familiar faces came pouring down on her computer screen there was one face that she didn’t like ironically that was the face she was most familiar with. There between flood of human faces it was her own face that made her cringe a bit inside. She saw all other smiling faces of her friends with smudged make up and messed up hair but it was her own face that looked the most messed up. Then her gaze fell on another picture of her in which she’s standing there with her arms around Alina’s neck. She looked so fat and so small.
She checked the privacy status of those pictures; Public.
“Oh My God! How many people will see that ugly face of mine!” She screamed.
“How can I look pretty when God has made me this way? I can’t go for a plastic surgery.”

She was now lying on the floor looking at the fan , tears welled up in her eyes. She looked at the ton of make-up set up on her dressing table and thought to herself that how these expensive cosmetics were of no use to her natural ugliness. Days passed and everyday she kept caking her face with make-up and putting a smile on like a cherry at the top of that cake.. and this kept going on for days. No one actually ever commented on her but she always thought that maybe people were gossiping behind her back about her make-up being too cake-y or that how she was so artificial.

One day she read a quote in one of the self-help books “Approval comes from within”

Voice of silence that echoed more than her anguish screams. A drum beating advisor appeared within herself and whispered near her ear, whisper or epiphany?

As you can tell everything changed from that moment and the preposterous dressing and make-up routines were replaced by satisfaction and happiness. She walked the streets with her head held up high and her chest swollen with pride of being “herself” in the world of stereotypes.

Thank you Bashar for helping me out with this one.❤

My Redemption

I woke up to the banging sound of my window. I realized it was a little too windy outside. I got up and locked it.

I love wind. I mean I think it’s the only thing that actually has the tendency to blow away one’s mind and that includes all the worries, miseries and tensions residing in that mind. Remember the scene in titanic where Jack and Rose spread their arms, standing at the edge of the ship and felt like they were flying? yeah, that’s how I feel every time it’s windy outside. I just wanna spread my arms in the air and yell at the top of my lungs whatever comes to my mouth. I remember doing that with two of my friends while I stood over a flyover passing over one of the main roads. We cursed out loud and burst into fits of laughter. I felt so relieved that I didn’t wanna leave but eventually it started raining and I ran back home. That’s the thing about rain. It comes in like an unbidden visitor and ruins everything. Anyway I made a cup of coffee and went to the front terrace of my apartment.  That was the moment I stared at the sky and I could see the clouds cutting themselves loose like a woman coming to a bar to have drinks after a long day at work.

“Why do I hate rain?” I asked myself.

There are people all around the world praying for rain but I just don’t want a single raindrop to touch my skin.. I see it like the sky is crying. I’d never let myself get drenched in someone else’s tears.

As much as I like wind I love thundering more. The thing about thundering is that it feels like the sky is screaming and I don’t know why but for me screaming is hundred times better than crying. Screaming is a result of aggression or something but tears mean you’re weak. At least that’s what I used to think. I was afraid of being declared as a weak person that everything that had even minor signs of weakness had me running miles away from them. My friends thought of me as the strongest girl they ever got to meet hence I made a petty image in my head that how being strong was the only option and how one was safer with one’s guards always up.

I looked up at the sky and saw the lady in the bar ready to order her drinks but I wasn’t ready for that mental torture that the world thought of as “blessing” so I just stood there and prayed it won’t rain but as I saw the rain drops falling on the ground like stones being thrown at the humans living below by the superior people in the sky, each drop falling on the ground like a predator inserting its teeth in its pray I closed my eyes for what seemed like eternity and tried to absorb the idea that everything around me was crying and I had to tell myself to be okay with it.

I remember thinking,,

Everything is crying. Why is everything crying? Are they crying out of pain? Are they crying out of loss or something else?  How do I stop the crying? What does it take to make a whole blanket of fluffy cotton clouds in the distant dark sky to stop crying? For a minute there, I felt a rain inside my head that had over-flooded my mind with thoughts.

Maybe these thoughts come to me because of my bipolar syndrome or my OCD but I know these thoughts are always there but in that very moment they were killing me.

How do you stop the sky from crying? You don’t.

Sometimes you can’t stop the pain, the crying, the suffering. All you can do is share the pain, the crying and the suffering. Sometimes you have to be a shoulder to cry on for someone else. Sometimes you just can’t do anything but be drenched in something that you don’t like and just hope for it to go away. So I just stood there letting the raindrops fall on my face and I stood there telling the crying sky “I’m here for you”. I allowed myself to get wet in order to share the sky’s pain and when the sky was done crying and I was done getting soaked I felt one thing “redemption”

I had freed myself from the fear and the hatred I had for being weak. I was as free as the birds flying in the sky after the rain stopped falling. I redeemed myself from the thoughts that my OCD and bipolarity had brought with them.

6-1

Yes I Was Raped.

Dying.. It looks so easy in the movies. A person just dies due to sickness and yet it’s been two years since the night that the fatal sickness crippled under my skin, stained my heart jet black and my clothes blood red and I’m still breathing. I wonder how my heart and lungs are still working knowing that..

….To the world I am just a worthless insect that everyone wants to crush.

To the world I am a caged animal, they point fingers at me.

To the world, I am a chewing gum under the seat that they accidentally come in contact with and are disgusted to their guts.

To the world, I am a rotten wound that heals slowly but leaves a mark as a reminder.

To the world, I’m a timebomb. They need to learn that everything with a clock doesn’t blow up.

To the world, I am a book of pornography that everyone wants to read but no one wants to be seen holding.

To the world, I am an oppressed creature that would be better off dead.

To the world, I am a disgrace to my parents’ reputation…

Does a broken, pitiable, characterless raped girl like me have the right to ask a question without​ people turning their faces away from me? I have a question for this so called respectable society that disowns a raped victim and tells her she’s the one who’s at fault.

WHAT WAS MY FAULT?

…So I was at fault when I cried for help at the top of my lungs and no one came to rescue me, rather the people stood there or ran away from there.

I was at fault when I tried to help myself by struggling and broke my nails and various bones along with my hopes and dreams.

I was at fault when after they left me there half-naked on the ground numb with pain and longing for death no one bothered checking on me.   

I was at fault when not even the death came to my rescue and I walked shoeless and drenched in blood through the streets and the audience didn’t come near me.

I was at fault when I knocked the door of my parents’ home as a cry for help in front of everyone and became a disgrace to my parents’ reputation…

I was at fault so my life is a living hell and the guys who did this to me get to live in peace. Why? because being raped is a shameful thing and being a rapist is not?

Yes, I was raped but I no longer wear that shame as a dress. I no longer wear the perfume of regret. I no longer try to put together my broken heart because my pride is my armour. I’m proud that I survived. I survived.

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Picture Source:- Google.

A Sad Song With A Happy Chorus.

We were walking back from that famous cafe nobody visited anymore. Wedding music was playing in the background because there was a ceremony going on almost 5 feet away from the table that we had taken about 3 minutes ago. I remember we exited the cafe and walked to your car. I opened the door for myself and sat there next to you. It was dark but I could see you smile that beautiful smile of yours. Your hands gripping the steering wheel. My legs trembling like a one-way earthquake. We smiled, we laughed.. we exchanged gestures. We even accidentally drove into  a graveyard and I thought maybe that happened because you were too into me but it actually happened because we couldn’t figure out how to use the GPS. Finally after roaming for another 10 minutes we reached my neighborhood there you dropped me off in that dark street to walk back home. I never told you I accidentally walked into the wrong street and it took me extra five minutes to find home. As I was roaming through the dark streets blinded by the headlights of the cars passing me by, something inside me had changed and suddenly I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I thought everything was okay. I thought maybe this was the stitch in time that’d save nine. I thought maybe, just maybe the cloudy sadness will vacate my head. I thought maybe just maybe it’ll be okay.

I could not have been more wrong.

I remember fragments. Rest I have forgotten. No maybe I just didn’t want to remember. Someone like you- Adele. You Ruined Me- The Veronicas. Blurred Vision. Stingy tears. Hiding my face in the pillow. 8 cuts on the wrist or maybe 11 or 14, maybe less. No text from my best friend. Numbness in my body. Tears like a cascade flowing effortlessly. 

As I laid there on the cold, hard ground I learnt a lesson. A lesson that I wish I didn’t learn. A lesson like a thunderstorm​ flashing above my sad empty town of tears and broken hearts. I learnt that when they said “it won’t be hard” they didn’t mean “it’ll be easy”.. I learnt that the only shoulder that I can cry on is mine and the idea of relating my happiness with someone else’s temporary attention, lust, mood or happiness is absurd. I learnt that the only love that I need is self-love.

So this isn’t a “screw you” note or even worse “I hope you die alone” note. It’s a thank you note that says thank you for teaching me something no one else could teach. Thank you for giving me the strength to bear the pain that I used to have nightmares of. Thank you for making me a self-sufficient woman. Now I know the strongest weapon that I have is Me, Myself and I.

It’s okay, life is a tough crowd.

The Thirsty Crow (Re-Created)

 

As we grow up we realize why were we told the story of “The Thirsty Crow” when we were kids. That it wasn’t just a story it was a lesson. A lesson that our teachers tried to teach us and prepare us for since our childhood but failed to make us understand that one day we’ll be running here and there all alone as the scorching sun will shine over our heads​ and condense every little luxury that our surrounding will hold. From that day pebble by pebble we’ll make every possible effort to reduce our unquenchable thirst for all the worldly stuff that are all so over-the-top necessary for living, as necessary as the water is for any living being.

But in the kids’ tale the crow finally drank enough water and flew away with satisfaction. The story never told us what happened when the crow got thirsty again. If the weather was actually boiling hot and the summer was scorching then what did the crow do later for his thirst? Did he look for another pot of water? ’cause as humans there’s no such word as “satisfaction” in our dictionary and we keep looking for another pot and then another and another and another. We struggle to find unnecessary comfort and luxuries in our life.

The thing that the children’s story didn’t teach us is that sometimes life turns into a quick-sand. The more you struggle the faster you sink.The secret of surviving is knowing that no one has ever completely drowned in a quick-sand. It’s okay to stop the struggle just for once and take a look around and enjoy the nature because even when we’re “in the woods” we can find the trees beautiful. This life is like a mountain and living is like climbing. Sometimes we can take a moment, stop climbing and take a look around to enjoy the view because we all know Life’s a climb but the view is great. Worrying only doubles the sufferings.


What To Do With All This Love?


Picture by Chaira Batista.
Source: Pinterest.

What do I see when I look at this picture?

Honestly, I don’t see a bunny-girl and her pet wolf, that’s absurd! I see two elements, two totally different elements. The difference can be of any type e.g color, creed, race, nationality and even species. The point is that they are very different but there they are sitting in silence interacting with eachother in silence, not a single word is being spoken, no exchange of dialogues but they both are bounded by a force. What is the force or the bond? That’s love portrayed by the creator through the process in which she’s knitting the sweater for the wolf from her heart.That’s love because love doesn’t need words or promises, it requires actions and actions speak louder than words.

What do I see when I look around me?

I see absence of love that has led us to hatred and this hatred is leading us to wars and chaos. Some writers and philosophers are considering this era as  the “decline of humanity” also due to lack of love.

Chaira Batista and I pretty much share the same point of view. Through text at the bottom of the picture she’s asking everyone a question

What to do with all this love?

Then through her art she has very intellectually and beautifully answered her own question. We all are born with basic emotions. No one is deprived of love from birth. How are we supposed to use this love? This love is supposed to be spread and given to people inferior to us, to people superior to us, to every single human being and animal on planet Earth irrespective of the differences.

She is portraying the sort of love Nicholas Sparks has quoted in his famous novel, “A Walk To Remember”

Quote

This has been my all time favorite quote ❤

But true love seems so rare in today’s world that it feels like it only exists in books. 

This world has turned into a rotten wound that keeps getting more and more decayed day by day. How can this infection, this disease and this misery be eliminated? Through the spread of love.

If we love other races as much as we love ours we can eliminate Racism.

If we love women enough to give them equal rights as men we can eliminate  Feminism.

If we  love animals enough to keep them safe we can eliminate Animal Rights Violence.

If we love our fellow humans enough there won’t be Terrorism.

But in today’s world I see “Pursuit of power” more than “Pursuit of love” and that is the reason we lack peace in the world. If we need international,national and personal peace we require love. As Jimi Hendrix said:

When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world be at peace.