Love and Madness

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I haven’t stepped out of my room in three days. I tell my mother that I cannot move, she seems worried. I tell her, “Maa, the demons have chained themselves to my ankles”. I hear her recite Ayat-ul-Kursi and blow it on me. She tells me to do the same-recite it three times and try to sleep.

I do and turn to the other side. I remember that the Baji at our madrassah, once told the entire congregation that it is easy for the devil to wear the skin of an angel and fool humans. “Man”, she said, “is not inherently that smart in the matters of love. Love puts a veil on your eyes.” I think she was talking to me but addressed the whole congregation. I think I gave my heart to a demon cloaked in angel skin and he chose to sink his teeth into it. I just watched. People that I chose to love in my life splayed me open like raw meat at the altar of their lust and I became exactly like the demon I used to run away from-desire more than want and greed more than need.

My mother tells me to sleep. She says, “Sadness, like this is a curse from Allah and that I should remember Him more so that He remembers me”. The woman talks to her Lord and I find her prayers, my prayers-empty like the rosary beads that she so dearly clutches. I recite my Ayat-ul-Kursi, again and ask Allah to put an end to the sadness that has plagued my heart. I seek his refuge from the demons but I tell him, I know the demon is me so I seek protection of myself from myself. He does not respond and I lie awake at 3 am on a Sunday night.

The demon wears the skin of an angel to deceive human beings. I am wearing the skin of a human trying to deceive both the angels and the demons or so I think.

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2017-the year of growing up

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The year 2017 came to an end and I’m five days late in writing down the “year review”. 2017, has been a year of achievements and also a lot of disappointments. There have been days that were the best and then days where I’ve fought with the urge to kill myself. I’ve also parted way with a lot of friends but i’ll count that as a blessing. Some old faces tried reaching out as well but there is a reason why our relationship severed.

The highlight was, I’ve decided to adopt the minimalist lifestyle with a hint of spiritualism. The reckless abandonment is walking towards Godly solace (improvement). I’ve wrote little in the year because I have nothing to write about. When I do write, I make sure that it is true to my emotions. A major part of my life ended and time made sure to test my relationships. I feel like I’ve changed a lot in the way I look at life.

Things to remember

  • Don’t bitch about people. The urge is tempting but we both know karma whoops ass.
  • Don’t rely too much on a person and expect like they will do everything right. There is chance that they will fuck stuff up and you will be disappointed.
  • The less you have, the better it will be. Material possessions fade away so chase less paper.
  • You don’t have to have everything figured out.
  • Persistence is the key to success. Kid, you’ve finally gotten rid of the pink pill.
  • “Chaand man” is real and funny. The person might make mistakes but lower your expectations. Don’t doubt the love, it is real.
  • Again, stop using people as an escape.
  • The art of letting go involves gradual disengagement. Let your heart get over them with time, do not force your brain on your heart.
  • There will be no Daedalus to your Icarus desires. Just because you do not have someone to help you does not mean that you should not help others. Never be bitter.
  • Leave everything to Allah. It works and you know. If you try controlling everything in your life then chances are that it will not go as planned.
  • Life is most binary in reality and then dynamic in your head.

I’m hoping that the year 2018 brings in relief. I also hope that I stick to what I have adopted as a lifestyle. Ride out the sadness when it hits.

The facade of Perfectionism

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My parents taught me that in order to succeed in life I have to work until I collapse; only then will I be at the place where I want to be. I have to runs even when my lungs are struggling to get air because beyond that pain is the glory. Do I not bear witness to the stories of glorious men who carved a name in history because they chose to work when the world was asleep. Success is not handed down but is grabbed through determination.

These ideals have been grounded and scooped into a pill that I was made to consume at the age of 13. Ever since, I remember working tirelessly to get what I want. To achieve so much so that my own voice started to haunt me.

“This is not good enough”

“You can do better”

So, I was sleeping less and working more. I was skipping meals and biting my nails. I chugged in coffee like water. I was the best at what I do and still felt like a failure. I believed that I had more potential. I wasn’t pushing my limits. I was successful and still unhappy. My unhappiness made me question, “If I’m doing everything right then why does sadness eat my heart out?”

Success came with milestones and I was good at achieving all of them. The rules were simple, they revolved around three “P’s”-persistence, patience and perseverance. I was so ahead, waiting, to cross the finish line. A robotic existence that approached life with logic and method.

Until, it cracked. I failed not at achieving a milestone but living my life. It wouldn’t have been bothersome if I looked at death as another milestone to achieve in the long list. I find myself at a crossroad, now, trying to comprehend the meaning in the fight that I have put up.

 

When life takes a turn

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There are many paths in life a man could take
One of them is temptation
The other is resistance

Temptation is sensual; it dresses in red
She holds a cigarette in her right hand and waits for you
Promising to sway you away from the worries of life
Ignore the world that has formed concrete pavements on your chest
Temptation doesn’t promise you life but it promises you temporary relief

Resistance is fierce; it has a silver armor on
He doesn’t have anything but a will to fight
Promising that if you don’t give in then the future might be bright
The concrete world will get knocked down but with time
Resistance doesn’t promise relief but it promises you a good fight
It tells you that there are many things in this world
That would kill you in far worse ways than you can imagine
But you don’t have to be one of them

Temptation makes you a loaded gun
Resistance makes you not shoot yourself
It takes courage to be loaded six rounds straight
And not pull the trigger

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And its mostly on days
I play pretend being dead
The world is quiet
And my soul can’t find refuge in anything
So my heart looks for a place to seek shelter from the lonesome air around me
And it runs towards you
My safe place
My home
My solace
My one and only refuge
You

Untitled II

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Some people don’t need love
Or want it
They are well aware of the perfection called solitude
Now I’m not saying that love is a made up concept
Something to chase after in order to validate our existence
Like, “fuck yes! Someone loves me and wants me”
No
No
I’m glad you want love and seek it
Pursue it
Conquer it
Let it devour you
I’m just saying that for some people
Love isn’t enough
And they want more out of life
Perfect solitude
Some books
Good wine
Laughs and a handful of friends

Which I think is an alright way to spend life
An alright ride to eternity

It’s too early for rehab

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Near my house they’ve opened up a rehab center
It’s called “Panah” and the board outside reads
A solace for people trying to turn a new chapter
For addiction is a disease
And if your loved one is an addict then they need us
You know?
To rid of the disease
I see a dull brown building and some people standing outside
My guess is that they have a loved one that needs saving
Because, their loved one has slipped into a spiral of addiction
Where crawling out without help is a utopian concept

So one needs doctors
Nurses
Lots of sedatives
Psychologists, too
And a fair amount of support from family
I can’t guarantee friends
They never stick long enough

But yes, you need isolation
So you can think about the pain you’ve caused
With your habits
You know?
Mixing vodka with amphetamines
Crossing pot with acid then whiskey
Injecting heroin then drinking then smoking pot
All that foolery one indulges in when one is an addict

So you get locked up in solitude to think
Sedated enough to not stir up trouble
But not enough to shut your mind off
Think about why your habits have caused so much pain to your loved ones
So you think and think and think
Oh, God I need a drink
But you realize if it wasn’t for your loved ones
You wouldn’t be in this shit
Not everyone needs care or love
Some people just need a drink
When they are on the brink

Kiss them drunk

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We’re conditioned to doubt ourselves. To think twice before we act and draw lines between everything. A friend can’t be a lover just as love cannot be synonym to lust. Differentiation is what marks the small space between sanity and insanity. You can’t kiss drunk. You can’t spell love and lust within the bones of the same man. It makes me anxious to see how we’re taught an appropriate behavior. In trying to chase “forever”, we find the present slipping away. Out of reach. Out of grasp. Suddenly, only a concept of what could have been.
Next time maybe, don’t over think and kiss him drunk? Because, there are no right or wrong people. They’re just people who were best for you during that time and now they aren’t anymore.

Unfitted Lover

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When we were together
I wrote poems about you on nights that I couldn’t sleep
And on those mornings you would read them
You said that you fell more in love with me
I’m more efficient in penning my love down
Heck, penning everything down
Than verbal proficiency
You liked the concept of twins
When I told you that I’m not one but two
So it’s hard to tell which part is at play
And you said you loved each part
Regardless

When we were together
You adored the inner child
The reckless brat who sought thrill
Took uncalculated risks just to land bruised
Someone who would jump when you counted to three
You liked the taste of burning skin on ice
The highs came with the lows
The ecstatic and erratic self
Countered days of being depressed without much reason
Those days
You said that you’ll be the one rowing us across this ocean
My bones won’t sink and I will make it through
I believed you

When we were together
My poems got annoying
You wanted more spoken words than poetry
I opened my chest to show you that I’m more riddles than simple sentences
You felt that I was putting you in danger
I showed you the last time I fell and ended up with a bruise on my right leg
The highs were dangerous and the lows drained you of energy
You let my bones sink on days when I couldn’t get out of bed
Nobody rowed me across the ocean and I was stranded
Floating
I swam to the shore on my own

When you left
I still searched for you on the shore
Now, I try to be more words than poetry
I write less now and try talking more
I take small steps and drive slow
I sleep more and don’t let my bones sink in on the bad days
I work and never let the gloom takeover
I’m one person not two
I try to be whole

Will this be enough to bring you back home?

Conversations with my therapist

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One day my therapist asked me, ‘If you know being inactive and dormant won’t get you anywhere, and this is what triggers your depression then why don’t you move or try changing?’

‘It is like ice’, I replied, ‘Imagine being stripped naked and splayed out on it. The ice leaves cold burns on my skin. Air just makes me more aware of the sting so I don’t get up. I am afraid of the wind burning my skin. Lying there, on that block is all I have known. It feels like home.’

He told me that I can move. I’m braver than I think. I got my entire life to live. Temporary pain can prove to be relief forever. I still did not budge. He gave up and asked, ‘So you don’t want to get up?’

‘I do, but I’m waiting for the block of ice to melt. Somethings in life require more time than effort.’