“the Overgrown Quills On My Legs Didn’t Stop Him.

true

I don’t want to write about romantic love anymore. I’m not bitter or anything, kinda remorseful in a sense because I have my fair share of heartaches and heavy feelings with guys who aren’t willing to reciprocate what I can offer. But love is so overrated nowadays, it’s like everyone treats romantic love like an oxygen for a dying soul. They treat it as an antidepressant for their lonely mindsets and empty hearts. How about unconditional love from people who cares for us the most? Isn’t it considered a form of love? We all desire for a romantic partner whom we can spend our Friday nights and Saturday morning with. We want to receive sweet morning phone calls and text me when you get home kind of love. We want long car drives with someone while listening to our favorite songs. We want someone to watch our corny horror movies with and watch the stars in night afterwards. We are blinded by the fact that if we don’t get to experience those, we will never be truly happy. But how about the feeling of doing something we really love like reading a favorite novel on a long bus ride and the feeling of the first sip of coffee in the morning? The feeling we get when we see the smile of our parents after receiving good news. The feeling of hugging a sister after few months of not seeing each other. Some moments are being taken for granted while we are so busy wishing for someone who can’t even paint a smile in our faces.

Dear April

Hey there April. I see people all around me asking you to be nice with us. I ask for the same. 

January jumped away with violence… fire in its tail burning down the forests

February fled with the aftermath

March was marching with a virus that we all sat home

I wonder what you bring, April. I wonder.

Life seems dull with solitude. Staying home figuring out ways to kill time. With so much time in hand, I thought I’d get back to all the pending work. But locking me in, doesn’t work. 

I miss the monotony in life.

So be nice to me and everyone else, April. Be nice.

I’m not asking for more but to return my happiness with being able to do things I used to cringe about, complain about, cry about, argue about, the things that I wanted to run away from.

Take me back to the people, talking and doing something.

Take me from this closed room, my laptop and me.

Hey April, try being nice.

The outside word is harsh and cold

That’s why we keep our doors closed…

My mom told me this the first time I asked the reason behind closing the door.

Then another question arised as to why we keep our windows open

And she replied “to view the world.”

But….

Wait…!

Why see the harsh world

If we close our doors to it.

Why have windows if we want cocoons…

It was then I realized lately

That we dont close our doors because the outside world is harsh and cold

But because we are scared of the outside world

Which consists of our “own”

And we still have windows because we are anxious to know whats happening out there

This lie we tell

The blame we put

Its all an escape

To the fear within us…

The fear towards us.

We close our doors

Because we fear the outside world

19:03:18

The mornings have been lazy lately,

with disturbed patterns of sleep,

you wonder when you go to sleep and when you wake up.

.

But the mornings these days are also tremendously beautiful,

the sunlight hitting you just the right amount through the windows

the tree outside that’s blooming,

leaving just the right amount of flowers on the ground.

.

The birds chirruping outside breaking the silence,

the squirrels cry out of joy,

all of them coming out at the right time.

.

The evening strolls in the terrace,

with my coffee in hand,

the book I’m reading,

yet again the birds and  the wind that brings in peace.

.

And then today came the first of summer rains,

the birds all flying with a sudden alarm,

they welcome the rain even before we know of it,

the eagles flying above the clouds, welcoming the warmth.

.

The petrichor hitting me first even before the drops of rain,

I let them fall on my face,

the heat comes down

there is this sudden chillness in the atmosphere,

and then it rains heavily.......

.

I sit down enjoying the rainfall, 

finishing my book,

wanting to write about it all,

but it’s worth the wait.

I wanted to take it all in.

.

with rain came the wind,

the lighting and thunder,

the sun who went into hiding

comes back with company,

.

the colors of

violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red

fills the sky,

.

I continue sipping my coffee,

reading my book,

looking up constantly at the sky, the birds and the rainbow.

.

I go back to sleep that night,

with a huge smile, a content heart and a finished book.

Thinking of a beautiful day that unfolded itself

seeing all those that no one saw,

that no one noticed,

that beauty,

and that melancholy of the day having finished so fast

the melancholy with serenity

that no one saw

no one would ever see

the melancholy with serenity...

.

I don't express love in the right way

I don't say the right thing at the right time

But I have never been fake

Nor has my love been a hoax.

.

Just because I'm not like the rest of the world in being all sweet and cheesy

Doesn't mean I care less

.

I AM THIS WAY

I'm Adamant, Loud, Curious, Sentimental, but that doesn't mean my soul is bumbling.

.

These are traits in my character that are not so good maybe, but look there are other "good" ones too.

.

If my adamance is bothering you

Let it be.

.

If me having an opinion is smothering you

Then you are suffocating by your own thoughts.

.

I may not be the apple of your eye

Or the centre of you're world.

Guess what

I don't want to be.

But how can my mere presence bother you

Just because we hold a past

.

I'm not agitated just with you,

But by a lot of people around me.

How can you judge me so easily even after knowing me.

You're so wrong with your calculations coz your decisions aren't always the right.

.

If you still say I have a problem, then be it

Coz my problem isn't that big a deal

All I do is care too much and love too much all the wrong people at the wrong time to whom I have never been significant. Ever.

.

I'm glad your smile is above my scar.

I'm really glad.

I dont want to...

You seldom start a journey with hopes of being somewhere, excitement of meeting someone and the thirst to be around your people.

So did I want to be in a place where no matter how crazy I become it would be fine.

Because I was going "home" where there were "my people"

Mistaken was I that it would not matter.

Because I just was an obligation they could not say no to.

The excitement was one sided and so were the hopes.

Even before reaching I want this journey to end

My destination never to come.

I want to go back and never return.

This was a bad idea but now I cant turn back.

I dont want this vaccation

I dont wanna go "home"

I'm glad I got to read the script first before the world could..

https://youtu.be/dQsjAbZDx-4

I love this song. So one day I was thinking of the lyrics and saw potential for a short story. Here it goes:

On he went. The snow was hard to distinguish from his hair. The steps were exhausting, each one. But still, it was a special day. He was almost there. Crosses and more crosses. It was hard to find a specific one, since they all looked the same. But it wasn’t his first time. He knew the way.

There it was. The flowers of last year had disappeared. The dog tag was still there. Fernando. What a war freak. He asked for all of it. To be buried with soldiers. To have nothing but a wooden cross. For the tag to hang on it. But not for the visits. That was on him. But how could he not? The whole war, and the fact the he came out alive, he owned it to him. To his bravery. To the hero he was.

“Hello Fernando? Enjoying not going gray, you lucky bastard? Here, I brought you your favorite.”

As he said that, he put down a red label bottle. How many memories. How many times they had fought for the last shot of one of those. Youth well spent.

But there was more. There was the war. And no one, in the whole world, was as proud to have defended freedom as Fernando. He had convinced everyone he could to join. He had fought until his last breath. Still, at the end, he survived. His smile was probably the largest on the night they celebrated the victory. They had to go on with their ordinary lives, but Fernando was forever a soldier. He died speaking about the honor of being a soldier.

Yet, not one person would remember him as a Nazi killer, but as the most inspiring, amusing and friendly figure to ever live. Except for that one soldier friend, visiting his soldier grave, to pay him a friend honor.

“Do you remember that night Fernando? The fireworks, the drinks, the women? How did we enjoy being young, being heroes, even though we would never touch a rifle again. Guess that’s what it’s all about, Fernando. Having the one story to be told on the grave.”

He laughed, far too much for the state of his lungs, until he coughed. Blood.

“Oh, my Fernando. Looks like I’ll be joining you quite soon”

...

I have that one person in life to whom I can be me and still be confident that he wont judge.

Well thats what I believe everytime I meet that person.

That one person changes with time.

Sometimes it's you

And yet other times its him or her or her

Everytime I end up talking hours together

Not leaving the smallest detail of what happened in the day

I fear that he would get bored

That he would not feel anymore.

Today I could sence that he was getting tired of me being excited of the same thing again and again

Maybe I should stop because

Maybe I get too excited about petty things

But I thought he would understand that it means the world to me.

I never thought I would say this for him because till yesterday I had something else to tell.

Yet one more time people have proven that they cant be what they promise to be

And all those promises starts to flow with the rain leaving me all back to square 1.

Thinking what went wrong this time

Stop associating success with age.. Stop associating happiness with age... Stop associating journeys with age... If something makes you happy and you are able to do it now do it! If you can't, wait and do it when you can! It doesn't matter how old you are what matters is how happy you are how content you are... Age is JUST a number