I forgot to make a door

I had earlier decided that I would be writing a post every night before going to bed. I have failed to do so. I had thought writing down my feelings on a piece of paper (or a blog, alternatively) would help release the negativity that weighs me down - as per popular belief.

Even such a trivial task like this is an ordeal. Nowadays, everything is. I even struggle with the burden of holding my head in place these days. And I am not exaggerating. My neck muscles are badly strained. It hurts so much, it makes me cry.

But then again, everything does nowadays. Even nothing does. 

Well, turns out even looking at this white-screened window makes me cry.

Does anybody have any idea, the remotest even, how difficult the most mundane things, chores, routines have become for me? How much effort they take? How they drain me completely?

What do I want? What do I have? Who do I have?

I have walls around me; thick walls, bunker-thick. I built these walls. And... I forgot to make a door. 

There is no door. 

It's dark and damp inside, it gets hard to breathe at times. And there's a stench of rot.

Do you know how it smells like when a soul rots?

The heart wants what it wants

"... - or else it does not care."

I haven't washed my hair; it's been seven days. Last I washed my face with some thing other than just plain water - some sort of soap - was some days ago. The soles of my feet are black and dirty - an uncanny resemblance to my soul perhaps, who knows. I have been wearing the same t-shirt since... over a week now. I haven't put on any fresh clothing since then, except for when I go to work during the day - sane enough (yet) to adhere to social standards of upkeep.

And yet the outside world is of the idea that I live a close to perfect life. Now that's some achievement.

Or is it?

The fire that burns within and keeps us alive, is dead inside me. It's now a pile of ash - it might have taken everything with it. There could be an ember hidden under that pile somewhere, dying but not dead yet. Or there could be nothing. A part of me hopes it's not nothing - while the other, well, the other doesn't give a damn.

What does my heart want? And why won't it speak to me in a goddamn proper syntax? Beats me.

Reclamation

It's been forever.

Fine tuning

*sighs*

Attune yourself to hurt, me love. And everything shall be fine in no time. I know.

... *smiles*

Monologues from a dreary afternoon

Woe to the man, who finds not a thing of beauty in the rising and setting of the sun. Who ceases to be enchanted by the starry night sky. Who finds not a warmth in the charm of a crisp eve. Woe to him, as when it rains, not a smile kindles inside of him. Woe to him, who knows not bliss when the morning breeze caresses him. Who knows not of a delight creeping under his skin as the winter sun shines upon him. Who listens not, to the hushed chuckles of trees in the solitude of a windy afternoon. Who breathes in no pleasure from the soft morning dew. And woe be unto him, who looks at the bliss-ridden marvels around him, but with a numb stare. For what remains a difference betwixt him and a boulderstone?

Woe to you my precious, for what are you if not a boulderstone?

With apologies to Allama Iqbal

'Hum se kab pyaar hai, haan neend tumhain pyaari hai...'

Sighs.

One verse I love quoting out of its original context.

Out of sight.

... Hence, out of mind.

Sighs.

I can't sleep.

...

Dil ka kanwal jo roz-o-shab, rehta shagufta tha so ab
Uss ka yeh ab'tar haal hai, ik sabza-e-pamaal hai
Ik phool kumlaya hua, sookha hua bikhra hua
Ronda parra hai khaak per...

Ae chaand muharram ke, tu badli mein chala ja
Tujhe dekh ke mar jaaye na, beemar hai Sughra (SA)

Bicharne waalay tujhe dekh dekh rota hon,
Tu phir milega tou kitna badal chuka hoga...

The battles within.

I'm not, almost never, in a position to raise a finger at anyone, whatsoever.

My actions might very well as well be far more objectionable.

Sighs.

... I'm not proud of whatever I've become.

I can't pretend I'm okay, when not a single particle of my existence feels okay. I just I can't.

I am tired - of putting up a show all the time.

I am sick, and I am tired.

Sighs.

Please Allah saaiin...

It's so cold in here.

Of Techno City, depression and Kat baby's legs...

Sighs.
I don't want to be depressed.
It's so not me.
Since when did I start letting things bother me yaar...
I've become so brittle.
Sighs. Choro.
French braid banao, chalo.
Aaaye haaye!
Teil tou lagga liya karo.
*empties a tin of Sasso over head*
Thodi Thodi depression tou aati jaati hai na... Some tend to stay longer than others.
Some even stick with us for our whole life.
We can't do anything about that...
And jis tarah ke hum hain built... You know... The type who are usually always backward looking and who hold on to the past. Tend to feel more depression...
But then automatically, we also find the good fuzzy memories in the past too, which bring us a smile...
The idea is to deal with our depression our own way... Even if it means watching Kat's legs!
(...)
I just... I don't know. I can't seem to locate (and access the cache holding) good fuzzy moments in the past.
I wish I at least had that ability.
You do have that abillity. I guess bad natually always has a greater influence than good. So we can't help that. But just cause you can't locate or remember them, doesn't mean they aren't there.
Acha sunu.
Chalo.
Kahan Chalain?
Techno City... Quad core lainay!
No Techno City, too much garmi man. What is wrong with you!?
We go techno when it - rains.

Talk is cheap.

I'm emotionally  drained.

Kuj onj vi raahvaa'n okhiyaa'n san

...
Kuj gal vich ghamaa'n da touq vi si...

Kuj saajan kasar na chori si
Kuj zehr raqeebaa'n ghol dita...

Working from home

... Is not cool. ADD is to be blamed.

In another news, here's something I found while sifting through one of my note pads...

(Courtesy: Sloth)

Let's be honest

You don't need a friend, a lover, a healer.

You need an attendant.

Sighs.

... Where do we find you an attendant?

Tu mere safar ka shareek hai - Nahin humsafar!

... Yeh jo raig-e-dasht-e-firaq hai
Mere raastoun mein bichhi huwi
Kisi morr per rukay kahin
Yeh jo raat hai mere chaar suu
Magar iski koi sehar nahin
Na chha'oun hai na samar koi
Meine chaan dekha shajar shajar
Mere charagar...

I miss you Liz

...

Umr ki raftaar...

Rog aise bhi gham-e-yaar se lagg jaate hain
Dar se uthte hain tou, diwaar se lagg jaate hain

Ishq aaghaz mein halki si khalish rakhta hai
Baad mein sainkrroun aazaar se lagg jaate hain

Pehle pehle hawwas ik aadh dukaan khoulti hai
Phir tou bazaar k bazaar se lagg jaate hain

Be-bassi bhi kabhi qurbat ka sabab banti hai
Ro na pa’ain tou galay yaar se lagg jaate hain

Katranain gham ki jo galiyoun mein urri phirti hain
Ghar mein lay aao tou anbaar se lagg jaate hain

Daag daaman ke hon, dil ke hon, ke chehre ke Faraz
Kuch nishaan umr ki raftaar se lagg jaate hain

It's kind of a funny story

What if I sleep and I don't wake up?

Will you miss me?

I don't usually dream

I dreamed last night. The kind of dreams you dream with open eyes, and an awake mind. I dreamed of things, and places- and people. I dreamed of a world.

I felt a rainbow and a lone butterfly inside my stomach. I felt a little scared too. I didn't want my eyes to close, and my mind to sleep and wake up the next day to the same miseries.

I dreamed for myself last night.

But last night, I didn't feel well. I kept having this sinking feeling, my body ached and I tossed and turned. For a moment, I thought I might not see another day. Like the reaper was somewhere near me, around me.

Can dreaming end up in something so morbid?

-

I am scared. I'm walking down a tunnel and I can suddenly see a light at the end; and it's... It's frightening me.

The 'what-if's' are tearing me apart.

I once posted about how my mother said, 'Lougoun ko azmana nahin chahiye.'

I think lately I let this important thought she tried to cultivate inside my young mind, and the underlying rationale, slip.

I'm testing people around me, and... It's- no- I'm letting myself down.

I'm talking to a...

To a... To a blog?!

How miserable is that?

How pathetically miserable is that?!

...

Tumhari sirf tabiyat he nahin kharaab; tumhara dimaagh bhi kharaab hai.

Sighs.

Kab nahin tha(?).

Dil na umeed tou nahin, na kaam he tou hai,
Lambi hai gham ki shaam, magar shaam he tou hai...

I think I need a hug.

But I'd never admit.

In a loop

You know what's the hardest phase of grief, don't you?

It's that part, when something horrific happens and you...

You run it over and over again, inside your head, like a video in a loop - trying to register it with your brains. Trying, and failing. Trying again; failing again.

With every try, it hurts. It hurts harder; it hurts deeper.

With every replay, you relive the horror.
With every moment you relive, a hundredth of the reality registers with you - acceptance. A sharp pang sinks into your existence.

On the count of hundred, you come to terms with what ever happened - and numbness follows.

Quiet. An eerie quiet, is all you hear.

It doesn't hurt anymore.

It haunts.

Zara Dair Mein Ufaq Pe

Yeh haseen shaam apni

Abhi jis mein ghul rahi hai

Tere pairahan ki khushbu

Abhi jis mein khil rahe hain

Mere khwaab ke shagoofay

Zara dair ka hai manzar…

Zara dair mein ufaq pe

Khilayga koi sitaara

Teri simt dekh kar woh

Karayga koi ishaara,

Tere dil ko aayega phir

Kisi yaad ka bulaawa,

Koi qissa-e-judai

Koi kaar-e-naa-mukammal

Koi khwaab-e-naashagufta…

Koi baat kehne wali,

Humein chahiye tha milna

Kisi ehd-e-meherbaan mein

Kisi khwaab ke yaqeen mein,

Kisi aur aasmaan per

Kisi aur sarzameen mein

Humein chahiye tha milna…

-Parveen Shakir

Let's play pretend

Let's pretend everything is alright; and may be, just may be it will.

...

Qaza ne waar kiya bhi tou pusht e sar pe kiya,
Majaal kiski thi jo aata rubaru e Ali (AS).

Of hope and paralysis

'I don't want her living off hope.'
'There are worse things.''You're wrong!
Bad news stops us for a while, but then you move on. Hope - is paralysing.'
(Criminal Minds)

Hope is paralysing!

Lizzie... Allah saaiin, I  can't seem to get over the reality. It keeps haunting me, the fact that she's no more.

*sighs*

I wish she'd just come back somehow.

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'No man is happy without a delusion of some kind. Delusions are as necessary to our happiness as realities.'

- Christian Nestell Bovee

I feel so left out.

So lonely.

I used to have Liz in times like these once, now there's no one. Just me.

*sighs*

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Early monday mornings

I feel weird.

And in another story: I've realised that the tiniest variation in the tone, and smallest gestures, or their absence, gets to me.

It's the bloody expectation gap, i believe. But what am i supposed to do about it?

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Shehr sunsaan hai kidher jaay'n
Khaak ho ker  kaheen bikhar jaay'n

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xnduwsqiwgus

The brevity of the momentary spans of happiness in my life has started getting to me now.

*tired sigh*

I should have went to office today. There was so much work; and now I'll have to suffer for probably the rest of the coming week.

All for nothing. *throws her hands up in the air*

Besides, it has been a horrible day so far.

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Econ lessons, life, and similar nuisance

Life is a bloody set of choices made. Irrespective of who makes the choice for you - you'll always end up losing one thing, in return for another.

But then this is life we're talking about after all;  and that's how it's been since the beginning of time. So, what's there to it then?

Nothing. There's nothing to it; save the fact that there are people who quite very often end up having higher opportunity costs...

You're reading a post written by one.

Tareek raastoun mein..

Bay'noor ho chuki hai bohat shehr ki fiza
Tareek raastoun mein kaheen kho na ja'ain hum
Sehra-e-zindagi mein koi doosra na tha
Suntay rahe hain aap he apni sadaa'ain hum

Expendable me

Lack of consideration - aaj ke ghamoun ke akhbaar ki surkhi.
I feel so dispensable. And well, let's face it - it is a truth; the truth. I wish it wasn't.
But I wish for so many things... *flicks her wrist at herself* Who cares!

Looked out the window a while ago to find a little furball frolicking around.

*sighs*

I miss Lizzie so much. Why did she have to go? It breaks my heart...

Of reviews, and work on saturdays

AAA: Kya kar rahe hain?

Shah Saab: .... Tumhari Russain ko English banna raha hon!

Me: .... *bursts into laughter*

Of scents, and moods

Fragrances... make me happy less miserable.

I think this new template has a little glitch - I cannot comment on my posts, nor reply to comments. 

Hmm....

If you were to die now, in this moment; you'd die a death of a wretched person, won't you love?

I feel sorry for you sometimes.

Jab koi duusra nahin hota...

Asar uss ko zarra nahin hota 

Ranj raahat fazaa nahin hota 

Tum hamaray kisi tarah na huwe 

Warna duniya mein kya nahin hota

Naarasaaii se dam rukay tou rukay 

Mein kisi se Khafa nahin hota 

Tum meray paas hotay ho goya 

Jab koi duusra nahin hota

Haal-e-dil yaar ko likhouN kion ker 

Haath dil se judaa nahin hota 

Kion sunnay arz-e-muztarib ae Momin 

Sanam aaKhir Khudaa nahin hota

In times like these

Liz, she used to be around all the time. I know she was just a cat but believe me when I say, I wasn't so lonely with her around all the time. I used to have someone to talk to, whom I knew, for certain, won't judge me, or criticize me even if what I had to say was utter nuisance (which mostly is the case). Whom, most of all, I could cuddle, and whom I knew I could've forced into listening to me.

*sighs* Anyway. The morning has lit up. I guess I'll go back to bed now.

... Lizzie - I miss her. A lot.

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Lonely Summer Afternoons

The weather isn't as bad as it had been until earlier this week. It's sunny, but breezy. I guess I get why the weather updates kept saying, it will be pleasant this weekend.

With S and papa jaani gone on their separate little expeditions; ammi, Zizoo (she'll kill me if she finds I call her that here) and I are sort of, feeling a tad wee lonely. It's quieter around here now. Not saying papa jaani and S used to ensure a havoc back here- well I'm sure about S at least. *giggles*

Trimmed my nails. I think I clipped them a little too short, they're going to bug me a little now.

So... Do you have something to say?

Please don't say no. Say something; anything.

Dil chah raha hai koi mujhse baat baatain karay, bohat saari.

And for the same reason, I miss Gruph. She talks a lot. A lot lot! The emphasis on a lot cannot simply be over emphasized, that's all I'm saying.

I want to go meet her; and I know, she's going to get a bit out of hand and go on talking without any need for input, or response from the other party. So, basically I know it's going to be a one-way communication. But, I am desperate. *deep breath*

Lazy, lonely, summer afternoons. Sounds like a good time to read, eh?

Let's see how the day unrolls.

Adieu.

P.S. Ohhh... How do you pronounce Les Misrables? Leh-what? Lol.

I am supposed to be working.

I'm tired of being lonely.

And, I'm tired of being around people... *smiles vapidly*

Exhausted, actually - So would've I told you, had you stayed to listen.

-

Such an unsatisfied soul I have turned into.

I've lost so much. And everything that remains is fading out, slowly but surely. Allah saeen, family, friends, loved ones, inner peace, the slightest essence of life, all's lost.

Iss qadr iztaraab hai ke sumajh se baahir.

Zindagi kaise flip karjaati hai eik he dum mein youn achanak. Sambhalne ka mouqa bhi nahin deti.

I want to go back to the States. I know, coming back from there last October, I had almost sweared upon my own life never to return; but now I want to. I miss being around bj, rayyan... these are my pretexts.

Loug qurbaaniyaan kion dete hain? Kya haasil hojata hai? Izzat, aqeedat...? Aur woh jo zindagi bhar ke malaal haath aatay hain, qurbaan kiye jaanay wali cheezoun ka gham?

Dosroun ke dil tootne se bachanay ke liye, apni zindagi ki azeez tareen khwaahishat qurbaan kardi jaayn tou kya hota hai?

I've lost my zing - the factor that was me, that made me, me! I cannot concentrate on anything, anymore. Eik saraab ke peechay bhaag rahe hain hum. But can you blame us? Will you blame us?

Can you blame a weary desert traveler, beaten down by thirst and the scorching sun, for his mind's nasty illusive tricks? Can you blame him for chasing mirages, and hoping against hopes?

Hope's a nasty thing. Umeed jo marti nahin, insaan ko maar deti hai aksar.

S's in Istanbul, having loads of fun mashaAllah. She's one lucky gal. My cuddle monkey! *smiles* Knows how to get what she wants. May she always have what she wants, and for the better. Ameen.

Mein bohat zaalim hon? Nahin tou. Shayed... Nahin. Yaqeenan. Nahin yaar, mein zaalim tou nahin; bas halaat... ne aisa kardiya.

Aap khatarnaak had tak bigri huwi hain muhtarma. Aap chahti hain aapko pyaar kiya jaaye, aapka khayaal rakha jaaye, chahay aapka apna rawaiya kitna he na rawwa kion na ho. Aisa nahin hota yaar... Aisa kaheen nahin hota.

Aapko meri yaad nahin aati?

Mujhe khwaab nahin aatay... na burray na achay. My sleep, it's nothing but darkness. A vaccum, not even static. Time, wasted. I wish to have dreams while I sleep. I once asked Bambi to sell some of the many dreams Bambi sees almost every night, to me.

Mujhe neend se kya dushmani hai? Na sirf apni neend se, balke dosroun ki neend se bhi. *sighs*

Meine kya kiya hai yaar?

Kisi cheez mein dil nahin lagta - na deen mein, na duniya mein. Duniya ko tou jhoonko aag mein, yeh jo Allah saaeen aur apne beech itni duuri le aayi ho is per kion ghour nahin karti bibi?

I must go and work now. Office bhi jaana subha. Don't want to sleep, might not as well. Dinner bhi nahin kiya. *takes a deep breath*

Feel like reading punjabi poetry.

Uski muskurahat kitni pyaari hai na. *sighs and smiles*

Allah Hafiz...

Ab masla saara yeh hai muhtarma, ke duniya aapke mood ke mutabiq tou nahin na chalegi; duniya ka apna nizaam, apni marzi, apne mood.

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Of things, you never imagined living without

... Lizzie bohat yaad aati hai yaar - har waqt.

*sighs*

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Of departures and longings

I wish I could've boarded one of those flights...

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'Tum gehri neendoun mein jab soye soye ho,
Tou mujh mein jagtay ho kion...'

I miss my sillu Lizzu.

It's pathetic, how much i miss her.

What's even more pathetic and heart wrenching, at the same time, is the recollection of that night, when all I wished was for her to make it through the night n the day to break, so that I could've taken her somewhere- somewhere she could be tended to...

Death's inevitable... I just have an issue with it being so hideously painful for the dying, while others are left with no choice but to helplessly look at them die slowly n painfully.

I wish... Oh, forget it. *sighs* What does it even matter now.

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Kion dekhte rehte hain sitaaroun ki taraf hum
Jab unse mulaqaat ka waada bhi nahin hai... 

Greedy, much?

Liz

*sighs*

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Dear May,

You've been unkind to me in the most heinous ways possible. You've robbed me off things I couldn't have imagined living without. You took away things that meant the most to me. You've been brutal to me. You've hurt me. You've been unfair to me, and exceedingly so.

You have not the slightest remorse, do you? You're ruthless.

I shall never forget all that you've brought unto me, and neither shall I ever forgive.

Ann.

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"Is that all?"

“Then you and I should bid good-bye for a little while?"
I suppose so, sir."
And how do people perform that ceremony of parting, Jane? Teach me; I'm not quite up to it."
They say, Farewell, or any other form they prefer."
Then say it."
Farewell, Mr. Rochester, for the present."
What must I say?"
The same, if you like, sir."
Farewell, Miss Eyre, for the present; is that all?"
Yes."
It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly. I should like something else: a little addition to the rite. If one shook hands for instance; but no--that would not content me either. So you'll do nothing more than say Farewell, Jane?"
It is enough, sir; as much good-will may be conveyed in one hearty word as in many."
Very likely; but it is blank and cool--'Farewell.”

- Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

I think it's about time I read it again.

I miss you Lizzu Pizzu.

...  *sighs*

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0229: Wide awake

So, I woke up at this hour with, as if, a bad taste in my mouth. The bad taste of an incomprehensible annoyance, i reckon. I woke up feeling unloved, un-cherished, unsolicited(?), if I may go on to say... Exhausted. Tired. Feelings that are not even close to what I had last in my mind before I surrendered myself to slumber.

Those are outrageously berserk feelings to come across in the middle of night, right out of nowhere- me thinks.

*sighs*

I'd like to go back sleep now.

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I was putting up this hanger on the door a while ago; and as I hammered in the nails, recollections of my pretty fluffball hammered my mind.

I wish she was here to watch me, in her particular avid supervisory manner, as I worked.

You simply loved doing that, didn't you, my lil fluffball?

I miss you Liz. I miss you all the time. Mum misses you too baby.

The most mundane of every day chores remind us of you. There's not a moment that passes by, without one of us letting out a cold sigh remembering you, wishing you were here with us, with all your snowey furriness.

K was heart broken hearing about her Snowey too, Liz. She misses you too.

*sighs*

I have to work on my goodbyes.

And six hundred and eighty eight other things.

....

... Allah saa'iin!

*sighs*

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Lizzu, we miss you, my precious furball.

I wish I could shut my eyes tightly, pray to Allah saaiin for all this to be the worst nightmare, and wake up to find you cuddled into yourself beside me.

*sighs*

I wish I could return home from work, and find you there. I wish you could nuzzle with my feet, in your own sillie welcoming manner, like you did every evening.

I'm sorry Liz, I couldn't save you...

*sighs*

I need somebody...

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Elizabeth...

'Dear Allah saaiin,

Liz isn't well. She's too sick to even move on her own. She won't even open up her blue marble eyes at times. She won't even move hear ears like a radar and respond when her name's called out. She...'

An incomplete post in my drafts from yesterday. I don't have to finish it anymore, do I?

Lizzu, we're gonna miss you so bad. I'm sorry you had to go through all that pain, my furball. I'm so sorry my chouttoo baby.

Let's be honest

'Who has a right over you?'

I feel like an object all of sudden, a piece of property.

There are rights attached to me; an entitlement, yes? Like the bundle of rights, per se?

Damn you, reality checks.

Aakhir e shab ke humsafar, Faiz na jaanay kya huwe...

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Alfaaz hain ke, zehreelay lehjoun mein bujhay huway teer

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“If you could buy time, I would sell it. Yesterday would be expensive, and tomorrow would be cheap.”

Very very cheap.

Sukoon naami cheez itni nayaab kion hojaati hai baaz lougoun ki zindagiyoun mein?

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Kabhi kissi ko mukammal jahaan nahin milta
Kabhi zameen tou kabhi aasmaan nahin milta...

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All that is lost my love, you still haven't reckoned fully.

It's tragic.

My heart bleeds for you, and forever it shall.

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Sunday morning musings- right out of the bed

Mein hoon woh nang-e-khalq k kehti hai jisko khaak
Issko banna ke kiyon meri mitti kharaab ki...

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Of night, slumber and dreams on french leave.

Mere paas tou khwaab bhi nahin...

The pitch black curtain never rises after I close my eyes; losing hope, I open my eyes every morning.

Bittersweet symphony, turning a tad sour

Let me be that forgotten ornament lying in a neglected corner of the house. The one whose existence people don't notice anymore. The one nobody talks about. The ones that catch the eye of merely maid servants, every once a few days; who then pick up a duster to cursorily brush off any dust residues. Pray, let me be.

Mein bohat jaldi thaknay laggi hon ab. Chaar qadam chal ker he saans charh jaata hai.

I've become so volatile.

It's a bit too much, if you ask me. I've achieved the level where one starts to annoy one's own self.

One moment, all I crave for is solitude, while the next, it starts creeping me out. Kaheen jaanay ka dil nahin karta, aur ghar baith ker bezaari hoti hai.

Work was a get away. My dilemmas however, have started to envelope that too in dense clouds of grimness.

Only so much time left now.

'It's only a matter of time now'... someone told me. I have not looked away from the ticking hands of the clock ever since.

It's been a month now.

Lagta hai zamana guzar gaya.

Will I ever be happy again? Not that I want to be. No sir, not at all - mostly because it doesn't make a difference. It's just an objective question that I find myself asking the blank spaces around me often.

If there's something that I wish now, is to be indifferent. Not happy, (but!) nor miserable either. I want to live the rest of my life, as if riffling through the life of an independent third party. I wish not be expected anything of.

Pata nahin kya aafat agayee hai jo iss tarah behave karne laggi ho!

I'm getting sick and tired of you. I swear I am.

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Kissi ko mera khayaal nahin

Dil chah raha hai k bachpan ki tarah aaj phir iss baat per rooun k, koi mujhse pyaar nahin karta, kissi ko mera khayaal nahin.

I thought she loved me, cared about me, and hence was by my side, standing right next to me, but...

*sighs*

You grow up to find out that stars aren't exactly glitter n sparkles sprinkled over the night sky; they're goddamn dead planets or whatever celestial bodies set on fire.

Right back at you, huh?

... Guess it was just a moment, without much to it, but erratic sentimental value.

The thing with moments is that they pass away, this one sure was no different.

I lose again. Ha!

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... These pangs of deadly agony in my chest, that travel down my arms, to my wrists, and then hands. My veins, it feels as if they constrict with in a fractin of a second, resulting in nothing but sharper and deeper pangs of excruciating pain.

It hurts - from the inside out. It's tormenting.

Why won't anyone make it stop?

It hurts, goddamnit.

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Mujhey ghuttan horahi hai.
Shadeed ghuttan.

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Zindagi khaak na thi; khaak uraatay guzri...

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Ajeeb hai raat aur din ki gardish.

Lekin us'se ajeeb hain aap,  muhtarma!

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Hawwa tou nahin hai,  khaasa habs hai- wonder what blew out the candles then?
*sighs*

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I can't  breathe.
Ajeeb wehshat si horahi hai sham ke baad se. Kuch sumujh nahin araha. Bohat besukooni hai,  bohat iztaraab.
The moonlit skies look beautiful.  The underglow that the moonlight creates as the clouds glaze over it,  is but plain wonder.
Magar bas phir achanak saara manzar dhundla gaya,  roshni bikhar si gayee,  aur aankhoun mein jallan ke siwa kuch nahin raha.

I can hear the clouds roar.  They sound upset...  It's raining.

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Life, reverse blasts, Mr. Freeze and other disasters.

At time, it doesn't even allow a transitional period as it jumps from one happy moment to another miserable one. Life's weird that way. Oh, it sure is!

It sort of reminds me of something I studied back in school- digital and analogue signals/ values. Or binary data- It's 0 OR it's 1- and that's that. Or if we had to bring in the economic cycle, it would be something unlike the conventional cycle; minus the recession or recovery transitional phases.

Here, a sad attempt to illustrate it for you:

Well, on second thought, I guess they're there; so to speak. Although, they're more of something like as steep vertical drop, yes, a roller coaster drop perhaps- and ohhh! Not just any other drop; it's like the 90 degree drop of Mr. Freeze from Six Flags, to be precise.

Holy skittles! Eureka!!!

I think I just figured life out. Just as I typed the last line, it occured to me- like an epiphany. It's the new Mr. Freeze: Reverse Blast.

Damnit! I've got it all figured... *walks away slowly, mumbling to herself- flabbergasted at the discovery*

Giggly Revelations

*S, Z, and I searching for how some of the renowned designers looked like*

Search: 1 - Tommy Hilfiger
Google didn't search him for us for some unknown reason, however did give us 'people also search for' recommendations. So, we went ahead with that.

Search: 2 - Paco Rabbane
*weird face*
S: Aise tou humaray chowkidaar!

Search: 3 - Kenneth Cole
S: Aye haye! Bechara! Lagta hai ke waqai watches banata hoga!

Search: 4 - Yves Saint LaurentS: Sunkee buddha!


Search: 5 - Christian Dior
*drum rolls*
....
*flabbergasted*
Me: He's a.... man!? O_o
*weird pause*
S: He is a ganja?! And not a ganjee?!!!
*wants to faint*

And the search went on... treading along similar lines.

P.S. A draft from a few months ago.

Dear blogger,

I suppose I'll be seeing you more often now.

Ann.

Average life expectancy

Bas itni si zindagi hoti hai khushiyoun ki...

As long as it takes for an eye to open up after a blink.

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The flagbearer of wrongdoings

You somehow end up being wrong all the time.  ALL THE TIME.  How do you do it?  How do you manage?  Must be really tough,  huh?
I find it funny,  I'm so sorry,  I kinda sorta do. 
*smirks*

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You wake up and you sleep. A few murmurs in between. A sleepy smile; a grin if lucky. A recipe for fuzz.

Only if the spaces could've shrunk to a breath.

Aik aur sach

Aur sach tou yeh bhi hai ke,  kuch lougoun ko khushiyaan raas nahin aati.  Aur kabhi woh khushiyoun ko raas nahin aatay.
Tou bas phir nateeja kuch youn hota hai k,  barra mukhtasar sa saath hota hai inn lougoun ka aur khushiyoun ka.

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Mein bohat khud gharz hon shayed.  Apne dukh k aagay,  kisi aur ka dukh,  kisi aur ki pareshaani koi maaene he nahin rakhti.
Saari duniya aag ki laptoun mein jhulas rahi hai tou kya? Mujhe tou bas apni ragoun mein uth'ti huwi teesoun ki azeeyat ka ehsaas,  aur kuch nahin,  kuch bhi nahin.
Ya shayed,  bohat behiss hon.  Behissi k aala tareen darje per faaiz.
...  *smiles*

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The last laugh

Who's laughing now?

Tou kya sab khatam hogaya?

*smiles*

Kitna bewaqoofana sawaal hai... But can I blame you, my precious? *shakes head* Beyaqeeni hai ke khatam he nahin honay mein aati...

Eik lehze mein paaon ke neeche se zameen khenchi gayee... kuch pata he na chala. Itni taizi se ke, abhi tou nuqsaan ka andaaza bhi nahin ho paaya theek theek.

Har guzarta din eik nayye nuqsaan ka ehsaas liye howe aayega ab tou.

.... *shakes head*

Hai youn bhi ziyaan aur youn bhi ziyaan...

Kuch din tou basso meri aankhon main
Phir khawab agar ho jao tou kya

Koi rung tou do mere chehray ko
Phir zakham agar mehkao tou kya

Ik aaina tha so toot gaya
Ab khud se agar sharmao tou kya

Main tanha tha, main tanha hoon
Tum aao tou kya, Na aao tou kya

Jab hum he na mehkay phir sahib
Tum baad-e-saba kehlao tou kya

Jab daikhnay wala koi nahin
Bujh jao tou kya, jal jao tou kya

Eik weham hai yeh duniya is mein
Kuch kho'o tou kya aur paao tou kya

Hai youn be ziyaan aur youn bhi ziyaan
Jee jao tou kya mar jaao tou kya...

-Obaidullah Aleem

Saturday night sighs.

This!

Is as close as it gets.

*smiles half-heartedly*

Meeloun ke faaslay tou tay kiye jasakte hain, magar sawal yeh hai ke naseeboun ke faaslay kis tarah tay hon?

Saturday night musings

Haven't felt so empty in a very long time. So hollow, so weightless. Things would have been so much easier had I been not such a goddamn attention craving creature.
*shakes head and smiles*
The tragedy of my life is that I somehow cannot find someone to blame, but myself... Every time, every.... time.
Why do I have to be so insatiable when it comes to affection and care? There is only so much people can give away... *smirks* And suddenly, I make it sound like alms, and not love.

-

The clenched fist you hold in front of yourself, you are afraid of opening it, aren't you? Almost as if you are afraid whatever you were holding on to so tightly shall not be there any longer. And truth be told, my precious, it isn't there, is it now? You know it too, don't you? That whisper you keep drowning in your noisy delusions, it keeps popping its head up every now and then. You'll have to lend it an ear sooner or later, love- sooner or later.