Tag Archives: writing

Trippin on a Tuesday

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I seem to always ask myself in moments of sheer clarity, “Who am I” and try to conjure up as many identities as I could.
Woman. Millennial. Muslim. Pakistani. Punjabi. Feminist.
At the top of my head these are some of the identities that I use for myself. Sort of like ribbons i’ve wrapped around my existence.

I ask myself again, Who am I?
The voice replies “nothing”.
It’s like the different ribbons wrapped so tightly around my existence are there in place to hide the fact that I am nothing. It is a dead end oblivion but not particularly the negative one that we attribute to the nihilistic concept of living.

But i’ve learnt with time and of age to undo every ribbon around my existence and unveil a cosmic cluster of nothingness that will slowly dissipate into the void that it belongs to.
A kaleidoscope pattern from the spill of cosmic cluster. The ribbons have come off. I know who I am.
I ask myself again, who are you?
“Nothing and everything”, this time I make a note to say it out loud.

(Acid diaries)

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Goddammit Time

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Life and time are two concepts that are deeply intertwined. It is almost impossible to grasp the concept of one and leave the other behind. Life isn’t very cinematic. Someone’s heartbreak is another person’s freedom. I believe that there are countless heartbreaks happening this very minute. But the sky didn’t tear open and neither did the mountains shook. Life went about its business and other people barely noticed that you’re crumbling. It’s okay though. Life isn’t a movie to begin with. We’re all very metaphorical in our pain. I learnt it the hard way. There were no grandiose elements that signified major transitions in my life. It was all very quiet and sometimes subtle. People went on with their business. I went on with my routine too, never acknowledging that someone might be in pain.
This realization makes life easy. It means we have control over things without reaping havoc. Control is a form of strategic chaos, as I say. So, we have control and power to determine our course. Precisely that moment is your key to take charge. It can be 4am in the morning, when all you want to do is catch some sleep before routine starts. It can be 6pm too when you’re driving back home from work. It isn’t a God damn film where everything points to something rather significant. Kids these days need to stop believing in that sugar coated bullshit. The moment is very random and probably dull. But one thing isn’t dull in the moment and that is you.
You decided to take charge of your life. There were no cinematic elements in it, but it was the moment that transitioned you into a better person or maybe a bad person.

Either way, best of luck with it!

Why do I write

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On some days, when the charcoal man in my throat makes it hard for me to say the words I want
And the iron rots my fingertips
It becomes hard to hold a pen
I sit there waiting
Because, darling I promised to write you a love poem
If not then a prose to my heart
But, I promised to write
Without erasing a single word that crosses my mind
What good are words?
If not an unapologetic reflection of ones life

 

About being Numb

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This was going to be a poem
About how two lovers meet
Or how strong you actually are
This was one of those rhymes
Where nothing was an induced haze
Clarity, joy and happiness

But this isn’t
It isn’t about despair
About remorse or guilt
It isn’t an ode to lost love
Or the walk towards a gradual demise
Not any of those emotions that I used to pen down

This poem became about being numb
About being oblivious
A reminder of how within lies less humanity
And the shame with which
I’ve begun to embrace my selfish solitude
How I turned into a God that worships the flesh