Unravelling the Seams

Sheets of snow crunch under my boots. The winter shiver makes me light a cigarette. Random wanderings lead me to think about all the broken promises inside my chest. My patience withered into a haggard ship. There’s no sailor to manoeuvre this abandoned fleet. You’ve sunk deeper and deeper into the cold dark waters. My heart had place for two, and you knew. I am to you how Rose was to Jack. If only you knew that you’re all that I ever wanted.
There’s nothing around me but endless white. No home, no civilisation, no stars above. The sky is an early morning hue, while my fingers are an evening blue. Frosty wind freezes my body. There’s nothing to kill the already polar heart.
Your lips tingle the nape of my neck. Fiery, desperate, in want of love. The ravenous passion warms my soul amidst all the bitter biting depressing cold. I reminisce your sweet talks, the now sapped attention, and the smile that’d linger on your full lips. I giggle thinking about your dishevelled hair, your cherry lips coated with my lipstick. There’s nothing more I want than pressing my mouth against yours with our tongues intertwined and making their own sweet love. It’s all that I think about because you gave me none of it. The kisses I craved have drowned along with you.
In a time where a text can end it all, let’s just be friends sunk my titanic of dreams. Let that iceberg be damned, it cut my soul into two-one stayed behind, the other walked away with you.

Run boy run, bask in your glory. You played my love like a video game and rage-quit my longing. I am the Empress from the tarot you picked in the carnival. I’ll come at you like a siren and have my heart whipped with your ardour.
The coffee I brew isn’t the same. My garden now green isn’t the same. I now see red campions growing in the lane and my father is baking a cake. The house is filled with an air that I can finally breathe in after my restrain.
If only I could reach out to you one last time to thank you for giving me a chance, a chance at a new life that croons in my ears and puts me in a trance. I want to embrace you lovingly one last time to turn that semi-colon into a period. I don’t love you anymore. That’s all there is for you to know.

The Girl On The Train #BookThoughts3

I know, it’s been a while since I talked about a book, and I think I’m done with the hiatus stuff I prattled about earlier. Months? I can’t stay away from writing for a month, let alone a few days.

Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is-

I finally finished reading a book (hurray!) and here I am, all set to bore your minds.

Okay, on a serious note, don’t take what I said before seriously. I’m not that boring, am I? Never mind. Let’s just get on with it.

Psst! This isn’t really a ‘book review’. I write whatever comes into my mind whenever I think about a book I’ve recently finished reading. Cheers!

I love trains. Dad and I have the same passion for trains. He probably loves them a little more than I do.

As a kid, my father always made sure that we travelled by train when the journey could have been a lot more shorter and less tiring with a plane. And, I’m grateful for that.

Thanks dad!

There are so many stories of my own from all the train journeys I’ve had so far. Thinking about them brings a smile to my face.

However, it also pains me to think about all the people with whom I struck a strong cordial relationship during the journey. It makes me wonder if they remember me at all, or look back at those times just as I’m doing right now. That little girl who’s now grown into a beautiful young woman, does she remember having a silly childish fight with me over a comic? That young man who told me all the stories his creative mind could conjure to put a restless 7 year old kid to rest, does he remember how my small head rested on his lap while listening to him intently and marvelling at the ingenuity of his story’s hero open-mouthed? And, when the train halted in the middle of nowhere with wilderness everywhere, does he remember how I made an attempt to push the train forward while thrusting my little palms onto his seat’s headrest and he laughed, my dad laughed, my mom chuckled, and they all coaxed me into trying harder? Once the train started moving idly, does he remember how I jumped back into the seat, put my head on his lap and went back to staring at the window, at the beauty of the vast fields stretching out, inviting me to run toward them and into the unknown? The old man and woman who were headed to another city to meet their son, do they remember me singing them rather raucous songs? Yet they bore with it, told me I was talented for my age, filled my ears with the kind of appraisals that people usually do with a child and make them believe they are unique, smart, beyond their age, even if it’s not the same.

The bridge so thin that it made me feel like I’d topple over. The thick big trees hiding a world behind them from a child’s predatory eyes for an adventure. The farms and the huts. People looking right back at me from the other end as I rode past them. The train station filled with the aroma of fast food. The time dad and I almost missed the train because I couldn’t decide on which packet of crisps I wanted, but luckily we were quick enough to get on-board, and I’m glad there was a man to pick the tiny me up. My mother and I switching our seats so that I could feel the train dragging me back rather than pushing me forward. I’d do it over and over with her, it felt like a game, and my mother was never once annoyed with this game.

The people and the uncharted places, places that could never make it to the map but somehow managed to leave a mark in my mind’s map. Green. Lush. Brown. Barren. Blue. Dark. Mysterious.

I picked this book up from the rack not for its promising summary, but the five words in white on the cover, ‘The Girl On The Train‘. It sounds silly, ridiculous even, to go for a book without having a look at what the story might be on . I wanted it. I had to make it mine. I was once a girl on a train, and she wanted to hear her side of the story, to be there right beside her, revelling the train rides once more, the train rides I’ve been deprived of for a long time now.

She isn’t disappointed.

For once, I could see the story unfold as if I were an outsider which made it all the more stimulating. I wasn’t Rachel and Rachel wasn’t me. Rachel fantasised about Jess and Jason; I imagined all the possible things Rachel was leading me into.

I am inclined to think that I’m the female protagonist whenever I read a book. I still don’t know why, but I’m speculating it’s because I want to feel whatever she feels, it’s because I want to feel the same zest and the downfall as she does, it’s because I want to feel perfect or get everything perfectly right for once. But, this one time, I didn’t. I didn’t and I already feel like I accomplished something just as Rachel did in the end.

It sounds crazy. That’s one of the things me and Rachel have in common, we sound crazy.

The other thing is- we like to involve ourselves in things that don’t matter to us at all, but we will find a way in by weaving a story that will intertwine with our lives, even if are living in a whole another World. If it’s something that captivates us, we’ll lie to wriggle ourselves in and eventually find ourselves being strangled as the situation gets deeper and darker.

Fine. I raise my hands mentally and admit that I’m just exaggerating. But I’m obliged to confess that I always try to be a part of a story wherever I go, stories that never find themselves in front of the public’s eye, stories that are only enjoyed by the people of the story in their heads, stories that will always remain a mystery to the outsiders, and I wish they weren’t.

This story, on the other hand, tells me that there are dangerous predators with prying eyes and venomous canines that always lurk in the corners, waiting to bite into your sanity and emotionally abuse you without you even realising it. They’ll twist and turn, morph and mangle your thoughts and memories to bring you to your lowest point. They take a delight in that, those insane people with the facade of sane.

There’s a lot a reader can take away with them from this book. There’s so much I could write about, but I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time if you’re reading this. Honestly, it’s not an excuse for not wanting to write any further.

Now, for the real review!

The book seemed a bit bleak now and then, frustrating as well because I felt the story moving at a much slower pace in few places. Some of the characters can be a bit of an annoyance too. One of them managed to make me shut the book and put it down on my desk with a thud and walk around until my head cooled down. I may sound dramatic, but it did happen.

And that’s how you know it’s a good book. I didn’t even realise I was so invested in the story.

Nevertheless, I wanted to know what happens in the end which made me not want to give up on the book just yet. As much as it was vexing sometimes, for me, it had me at the edge of the seat all along, guessing, and it has excellently accomplished in maintaining the air of mystery and suspense until the climax.

 I’m  impatient. I have always been short of the much needed patience and passiveness. Maybe you should just pick up the book ASAP and see for yourself and let me know how you found it because-“I’m not the only one who looks now. I don’t suppose I ever was. I suppose that everyone does it-looks out at the houses they pass-only we all see them differently. All saw them differently.” Well, it’s not really the houses we’re talking about here but it works just fine with books too. You get what I mean? That’s a quote by Rachel. It sounds great, doesn’t it?

 Chilly, nail-biting, and a breath-taking end. It’s commendable, how the author connected the distinct pieces and wrapped it all up to reveal the unimaginable skilfully.

Exquisitely written. The book satisfies one with a good amount of beautiful poetic quotes that I jotted down in my note-pad.

In the end, trust not what people feed you. They could be true to their words, they could not.

My ratings for the book-3.5/5

I’ll end my review…but not really here (Is there anyone in here who watches Ryan Higa? That’s actually a reference to one of his series on his second Youtube channel.) and you probably have realised by now that I’m pretty poor when it comes to keeping my word. I’ll just slowly walk away from here and leave you to yourself.



To End The War Raging Within You

Dear Me,

When life tells you that none of it is going to be okay, don’t believe it like you never believed some people on other occasions. Many a time, you are compelled to think that this is how it’s gonna be for the rest of your life when life tosses you around with its spatula in a black bubbling stew of troubles and doubts. Imagine a football field where life is the ground and you’re the player. There are hundreds of spectators out there, near and afar, who are either booing you down or cheering you up. Which ones are you going to hear out? The boo-hoos? Or the go-get-’em cheers? It’s up to you. Just know that you yield the prowess to  filter the unwanted and leave the icky stuffs behind on the sieve.

Sometimes, you’re the ball on the field and the other people surrounding you are the players. You get kicked around and picked about-hard and fast-that’s how it is. Everything is out of your control and you can’t even stop doing what they do to you because remember, you’re just a ball then. A ball can’t lash out at people or harangue them with piercing words. A ball can’t roll around on its own unless it’s pushed forth by a force to a certain degree. A ball can’t bite back with a clever comeback to put them in their places. At times you want to be pushed by people. You may, in the beginning, think that it’s pretty weak of you to even entertain the thought of people shoving your back to reach the borderline. But, it’s the kind of truth that tastes like bitter lozenges and I can’t sugar-coat it for you. I’m the last person on this planet filled with deceits and lies to lure you into a world of illusions that will eventually add up to your already existing sadness. I know it sucks. All of it. Believe me. Not them. Not any of them, not even the ones who keep assuring you that it’s all going to turn out well because they all leave in the end. You have only you to yourself.

It works most of the time. The players push you to and fro, up and down, side to side, and finally make you hit the goal post. SCORE! You will revel the triumph for a few games, but all good things are tarnished by the shortcomings of departure. Heck! They all leave. Your mates. They eventually desert you. It’s the kind of ramshackle that fastens your limbs with manacles and you can’t get up, you can’t move and it feels like there is nowhere to go. You have ridden  on their backs for so long that you have forgotten how to walk on your own two feet. You get up and fall. Get up and fall, THUD! No broken parts will you have, but you will have a  broken heart. You’re back to being an infant. It’s back to square one of life.

Then, just as a baby matures and passes through the various stages of physical and mental developments to grow into the adults we see in our sphere, you do too. The only difference between you and the baby is that the mental changes are literal in the real baby while figurative in you. You’ve passed all of them yet here you are shuddering and coiled up on the floor because you’ve failed. You think you’ve failed everyone you care for. Look at me now and listen close, you never fail. One never fails anyone. You only fail you, but you will have another attempt at winning this shot.

In the process of becoming stronger, you will believe many a thing that are utopian. Things like ‘it will last forever if I am determined enough’ or ‘I don’t need anyone to stitch my heart whole’. Love, you’ve never been more blatantly wrong.

You’ll find yourself breaking apart after every cycle of rejuvenation. You’re made undone and done. You are opened up and filled in again. You soak in stuffs and expel stuffs. You are ever dynamic, and just as the summer gushes in after every cycle of winter, you’ll welcome euphoria after periods of depression. It’s just like the day and night cycle except it’s more erratic than the Earth’s rotation. However, if there’s one thing I must tell you, it’s that don’t be pivoted to a particular issue. Don’t rotate around the axis of what causes you much pain. Let it glide through. You’ll be at ease.

I have told you to believe me and not others. I have told you that all of them eventually leave. I have never been more wrong.

It’s true that you will have to believe me because I am you. This is you. But sometimes, you shouldn’t trust your own instincts which led me to write the otherwise. People do stay. People do care. People do see and feel what you see and feel. Don’t you ever think that you’re all alone in this world teeming with unique life-forms and thoughts. This place, right here, is a kaleidoscope of emotions-it brings out the worst and it brings out the best. If you have this notion that people will never be out there for you, it’s because you either haven’t opened up completely or you just haven’t come across the right kind of people yet. There are plain old fools and then, there are the thinkers- and- dreamers. The latter group will liberate you from your remorse and sorrows. They will welcome you into their circle of strong-will if you would just muster the courage to open up your wounds. Tell them, tell them all of it. Even if none of it makes any sense and even if you don’t know where all of what’s making you feel a certain way coming from, let it all out in front of them. People are there, honey. People will be there to pull you out while you’re drowning in the deep dark waters of such sadness. They’ll be your life vest.

If all of this makes you feel any vulnerable or feeble, you’ll have to stop thinking that. I’m not forcing you to be open to everyone and anyone around and to not put up the tough girl act in front of the audience. Do it, but do it at your will. If you feel like you can’t act out any more then take off that extremely tight corset of toughness. You’ll feel lighter then. You have to expose yourself to the world out there to experience anything anew. It doesn’t matter if it’s abrasive or soothing because you’ll have to take the chance as it is, not wait for it to tone itself down a bit for your comfort. It never was any comfortable when you finally resumed your one hour work-out session after two years. Every muscle in your body was pulled taut and you were left gasping for breath. With your lungs on fire and body sore, you let your body drop on that wooden chair and you smiled. You said you’d do it again. You said you’d do it everyday and you did. It was horrible to begin with. The next morning, every part of your body was aching and the cramps were horrendous. They felt intolerable, but you had the determination, that will to make it easier for yourself by doing it again and again and all over again.

Life is a lot like that, love. It throws at you something outrageously difficult and you have to shed your patience and courage to make the baggage feel like it’s a lot easier to carry around. You will have regrets pulling you down. Anxiety stalling your progress. But remember, none of us are perfect. We’ve all made mistakes that we can never forgive ourselves for. Nonetheless, we can accept them and strive for better to prove the world that we are much better people than what our mistakes made us seem like. Get over it, sweetie, and get to the other side.

Contradictions are frustrating. This place is filled with them and so are you. At times you feel like you’re all that’s left for yourself and the other times you just know that the others have your back. Paradoxes pull you apart and push you in and it can be nauseating. You’ll want to bang your head on the wall and scream out of anger that’s welling up within you because you just cannot make up your damn  mind on what you really want. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel that. It’s completely okay to feel so contradictory. Take it as a gift and use that ability to expand your vision to multitudinous perceptions. You will be wrong yet you will be right. You’ll say something and you’ll say another thing against it. What’s making you so irate is a boon in this realm of bigotry. Think, ponder, prod various possibilities on something even if you contradict yourself. It’s okay. It’s all okay.

You want the nirvana? You’ll get it deary. Even if you have to put on that nirvana shirt to feel good, then do it. Do more of what makes you feel happy, confident, and peaceful. Don’t ever step back from what you have a strong urge to do at the moment. But, don’t regret it later. Don’t bite your tongue and curse at the mirror. It’s okay to be zealous for a short span once in a while.

Lastly, never hesitate to ask for a hug. If you want it, just go for the damn thing.