My "maybe an" article

Thoughts, thoughts and even more thoughts. So many thoughts, inexpressible and minuscule they are, yet so deeply placed in the mind that it seems almost impossible to get out of the thought of getting out of the thought itself.

With XO ringing in my ears, my mind is preoccupied with "the last few" thoughts. The last few days to know the fate of my future, the last few days of spending time in an institution which has given me nothing but a truer, practical and wider meaning of dislike, hatred and claustrophobia, the last few days left to spend time with friends I've made here, the last few days to have absolute mad fun in the worse of the days, the last few memories I've had with my grandfather in his last few days before his demise, so many last few's which are killing me with nostalgia and sadness yet make me happy at the same instant. It feels so different, the naivety, the innocence, the carefree attitude no longer persist. The priorities, the chances, the interests, the people, the promises, everything has changed. To such an extent that, when I look back to the person who I once was and the person that I am now, there's no comparison.

As the words in this "maybe an" article go by, a clear thought of who and what I am, is what I've arrived at. The change makes me nostalgic yet happy for the person I am today. I see the strength I've acquired because of the things in the past. I've clearly absorbed the fact that change is inevitable. And it the only constant in our life. In a very small time I've learnt that there's no point in grieving for the past, I've learnt to live in the present, I've learnt to stop worrying about the future for there is nothing you can do to change it except to embrace and enjoy it the way it comes you without letting the burden of your past spoil the fun, I've learnt to enjoy the present for it is the present that wraps up your future! Yes I've learnt quite a few but import things in a very short span of time which made me realise the strength I have in me. It's like the saying, "You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only option left". This particular thing somehow very precisely fits the cap!

Approaching the end, I'm struck with this one thought, "Writing helps you clear a tonne of confusions and musings and makes you arrive at a clearer thought or at least something nearer to it". It really does! Here I am, with a slight but adequate clarity to make me sure stay focused for some more time at least!

P.S- For me, personally, as an amateur, writing doesn't really mean full on poetic or author types or a like a professional. For me, it just means a way of expressing yourself in words and arriving at a small clarity but big enough to make your path clear.

Summer Rain

The days are hot,
The moods are bad,
The summer rains are a cure to all that.

It was a typical day. The sun was soaring high showing its full potential. It was the auspicious day of Sri Rama Navami, it was the day when my grandfather's condition was stabilizing after repeated number of attempts. After days of sceptical thoughts and cynicism amidst vague optimistic hopes of his survival, that day, on that auspicious day, he has improved.

His news of improvement for no specific reason has welled up tears in my eyes. Though it was something I was glad about, somehow it managed to fill in buckets of water in my eyes. I broke down, I finally broke down about the aftermath of his death. The only positive news I've heard all day somehow made me cry like I never had before.

My eyes were swollen, my mind was blank. I was standing in the balcony of my room, the hot breeze brushing against the sensitive, swollen skin of mine. Then, there it was, a sharp sound of a thunder. That's what I thought I heard, but dismissed the thought immediately as it was just the beginning of summer and the possibility of rain was like a blue moon night.

But then, like every person is wrong at some point of time, so was I. I was wrong, that was the sound of thunder I've heard. The sound which usually scares me, which usually gives me nightmares, gave me a strange homely feeling. I looked at the sky, longing for the moment when the first drop of rain would hit the ground. Then, finally the moment I was longing for has arrived, it had started to rain.

It started raining, that's when my dad told, it was an age old tradition to rain on the auspicious day of Sri Rama Navami. It symbolically tells that, it was the blessing in the form of rain, showered by all the deities in the Vaikuntam, on the divine couple of Sri Ramula varu and Sitamma thalli.

After listening to that story I had an unexplained bliss built inside of me for an unknown reason. I stared at the sun burnt walls and the ground, I stared at them absorbing every inch of moisture they could until saturation for they know that, they won't have any more opportunities until the end of this ghastly cannibal summer. The smell of the wet mud rejuvenated my sense of smell. It reminded me of my childhood memories, the multiple attempts I made to taste that deliciously pleasant smelling mud, the innumerable attempts I made to identify the exact source of that lovely smell. It filled my thoughts about my childhood and the innocent bliss of it.

Somehow, the summer rain, the showering of the deities, made my day. It somehow was a cure to all the unpleasant things, all the sadness I've been through the day. It cured me and my soul like it always did. The summer rain..... 

My Light

You were my ray of light when everything around me was pitch black,
You encroached my darkness with your light as bright as the sun.
You gave me a ray of hope to survive in the brightness when all I wanted was,
To be covered with darkness,
You were all that I wanted and needed

You came to me like a lightning star,
Made my pitch dark life a place of gay and joy,
You made me think that you'd be there with me throughout.

But as life always did, it knocked my hope and threw it away so far that it was impossible to find it back
Your sudden absence made my life turn out into darkness again,
But this time more darker and more blacker than ever
You gave me no proper reason

All you did was to throw my life back into darkness
You took all your light with you, leaving me all alone.
Alone to my dark and depressing thoughts.
You left me all alone.

You hurt me, you killed my heart and broke it.
Broke it into innumerable pieces which wouldn't be found even with infinite trials

But there is something that you've left me behind with,
The sweet yet painful memories,
Which traumatise me every time I think of them

I miss you with all my heart and soul,
Though I know it's worthless

But my love, I miss you

1.

" A woman's heart is an ocean of secrets and suppressed feelings, which when unveiled will astound people in such a way that it might seem impossible for them to get back to the normal relation they once had with that woman. "

A Disguised Appealing Mire

I see the face of a child out there with a smile on her face,
thinking to myself why can't i be so happy and blissful like her?
Why doesn't the innocence of childhood persist with us forever?
Why do problems and issues bother us but not them?
Why do we have to deal with problems and things which are much complicated and huge for us to handle?
Why do we have to deal with death?
Why did we have to grow up?
And the questions never seemed to end
Strange but true, all of us as a child wished to grow up and be the person on whom people could trust and lay responsibilities on
But no one knew what they were wishing for at that time, for the innocence and optimism in us overshadowed the bitter reality of life
Overshadowed the disguised appealing mire of growing up
Overshadowed the truth that with growing age comes growing pain and growing sorrows
Overshadowed the fact you can be easily cheated by people and that people misjudge you with no mistake of yours
Overshadowed the hope and optimism with pessimism and hopelessness
The very innocence and optimism in us overshadowed quite a number of things which seemed to be so alarmingly deceptive when we were young
They overshadowed the fact that hope cannot be found even in the darkest of times and you'll find nothing but the hollow feeling of nothingness,  hopelessness, despair and agony
Nothing but them
The mire which seems so appealing and thrilling helps you find nothing but that
It makes you do nothing but give in to the worse of your fears
The appealing mire of growing up it is after all, pulling you down and down into its world of hopelessness and agony