The Final Cut

Red. Black. Blue. Swathes of colour storming away before my eyes.

My mind has been reeling since morning, since I heard. It's unbearable. I am barely at the fringes: the epicentre is far more devastated. But I cannot bear to think, to feel. It is too much.

Life should not be quite so bleak to good people, should not take away even the last shred of hope, the very point of their existence. I have always found questioning these things fruitless, yet, today, I am grappling for answers. There is no soothing soliloquy to be found in silence.

There is worry, of course, worry that stems from tragedy hitting so close to home. I have someone to lose. Hence, I have something to fear.

The truth hits like angry waves crashing upon rocks. One moment, the icy whiplash stings you awake, and the next, the cold dulls you into forgetting what it was like to feel in the first place.

"Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide."

I cannot imagine, don't want to. All I can ask is why.

Coming Back To Life

Sleepless nights are for those with weary hearts, or for philosophers. I'm not sure which of these I am. My nights seem destined to be restless, with my mind bordering on the edge of sleep but unable to cross over to the land of tranquil dreams.

Perhaps a part of the reason lies in the subconscious weight I carry with me at all times. Nevertheless, even after an explosion of sorts, life still goes on.

This past week has been like the calm after a storm. You pause for a moment and take stock of the devastation caused, see what you can salvage and then move forward with your life. You're still a little wary, should another tempest befall you again. Still, things slowly fall back into place and you realize that all is not lost, not yet, and perhaps not for a long time...

The songs you listen to can often be so astoundingly appropriate that it seems as though they'd been spying on your soul. And yes, Floyd never got it more right than this.

"I took a heavenly ride through our silence

I knew the moment had arrived

For killing the past and coming back to life".

No Surprises

Sometimes a day comes when what is closest to you is almost in danger of slipping away for good, all in a matter of seconds. You're rattled then, jolted out of a reverie where you'd begun to take what is dearest for granted. The spear to the heart does serve one purpose though: you wake up and realize that you'd been slipping away, and dragging down those closest to you in the process.

Nothing is worth the weathering of one's soul, all the things that make you who you are. The cost is too much to bear. While this is not a realization that I've come to arrive at today, I did understand that I cannot sit back with such insights and do nothing about it.

Otherwise, this is what my life will be. Permanently.

"A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal...

A handshake of carbon monoxide..."

I started listening to Radiohead tonight because I couldn't sleep. It's funny how a song picked up at random speaks volumes about the day. And life in general too, I suppose.

This must change. I must change.

"No alarms and no surprises please".

A Window to my World [X]

"Midnight, 

Not a sound from the pavement 

Has the moon lost her memory? 

She is smiling alone"

So it's my favourite time of day again and I am sitting at the computer and watching the world through streams of data drifting about in cyberspace. Seems like an interesting place to be, yes? Ah well, if you think about it, the Internet is a lot like Sauron's eye, enough to give me the creep sometimes and make me shy away from writing for a very, very long time. 

Nah, that's just a load of rubbish, really... the only reason I haven't been writing is that I've been busy, and lazy and uninspired during the times that I haven't been busy. Nothing particularly new given the situation in the last few months. Nevertheless, I managed to go on another trip to the hills a couple of weeks back, so that is something that has kept me fairly sane. Not that the wanderlust has faded, mind you, but it was a rather welcome break, and I've come back feeling well-rested and at peace. The mountains do that to you. Just the fact that you're a few hundred feet above regular life is like a breath of fresh air while drowning.

What has happened is that I've resigned myself to the fact that this city is my Hotel California... at least for a while. It stings a little less now than it did even a month back, but yes, time slaps you into getting used to just about anything. I am quite the believer when it comes to this.

Other than that, if I were to review the present status of my hobbies, or, my "old life", it would go something like this:

• Writing :: Mount Vesuvius
• Music :: Mount Kilimanjaro
• Artwork/ Photography :: Mauna Kea

Yes, it is rather sad that I'm comparing the state of my hobbies to dormant volcanoes. My mother would be proud of the analogy, although for completely different reasons.

Still, time never stops flowing. I recently finished watching Season Three of Game of Thrones and also the first and second season of Suits. Fun times. At least my hard drive has a few movies that I could watch to amuse myself, even though the last movie I had time to watch in the theatre was Star Trek. Now I'm certain that I sound like one of those Lonely Cat Ladies, but I assure you that I am not. Getting there? Maybe. "Not today, not today", though. 

LD out.

Sleep

Sleep, when the tragedy of life becomes too much to bear

Sleep.

It will come, it will come.

Forgo a turn, bring out the urn

Sleep.

The only path to tranquility.

Sleep, when only ashes stare back

Sleep.

It will come, it will come.

Shut out the voices, shut out the light

Sleep.

It is gone, it was never there.

There is no need to feel, when coldness is so welcoming

Sleep.

It will come, it will come.

Forget.

Let go.

Soar.

Sleep.

Hah!

It is such a liberating feeling to be able to pay your own bills, to sign off cheques with your name, to live only based on what you earn and not be answerable to anyone claiming that you have to live by their rules just because you live off them or under them! Now that is freedom.

Of course, the flip side of not being a pampered daughter who has "daddy darling" to pay for everything and whose salary is only "pocket money" is that you have to seriously grow up. Fend for yourself. Live within sometimes very limited means. Not depend on anyone to bail you out of difficult situations... in essence, handle your own shit.

But hell yeah, growing up is fun! Give me this over leeching off someone any day.

Scream

Life without music,
Most wretched disharmony
Screams cacophony.

Post It

Things I need moved here:

• Piano (the M50 preferably, but at this point, even the old Yamaha will do!)
• Guitar
• Sketchbook, pens and inkpot
• Coloured paper
• Glue

Yes, so I get terribly bored when I am not terribly stressed or terribly sad. It's terrible, I know.

A Window to my World [IX]

I sometimes miss the old me: the one who was not all that harried by deadlines, or endless post-it notes of things left to do. The one who had time to stare at the people passing by on the streets and wonder what their lives were like. The one who read voraciously and wrote furiously and lost herself in music. Time can be quite cruel, especially when it slowly squeezes bits of life out of you.

It is not as though I only have things to complain of. Good things have happened, yes, and convenient things have happened too. Yet, I wonder sometimes whether I have lost myself somewhere in the middle of all that is to be done, and forgotten the person I always was.

Life is a little lonelier now, especially given how almost all my closest friends are scattered all over the country. They're busy, I am busy. The story of everyone's life. Having new people you can share a couple of laughs with helps, of course, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't yearn for those days that I spent watching stars from a friend's terrace, surrounded by my favourite people in the world. Ah, nostalgia!

I recently visited North Sikkim with my closest friend and a really fun bunch of people. It was a much-needed break from routine. The wanderer within had been making its presence felt for quite some time, and it was good to get away from the city for a while. I got to use my new dSLR properly too, so, there was some salvaging of my former hobbies! It's a beautiful place, with fine, kind people, and of course, I'd never say no to a trip to the hills.

Hopefully, a few things that I hope work out, will indeed work out. Life may or may not be easier because of it, but at least I'll know that I gave it a shot. For now, I try to get a few evenings out with the friends who are still in the city. My closest college friend and I can't seem to be able to spend more than a week without meeting and having a blast!

Perhaps I might get to go on another trip after a few more months... It's definitely something to look forward to! In any case, it's back to work for now. LD out.

Wake

Darkness fails my eyes
The cold speaks through its silence —
That thread is now cut.

The last journey completed
And with it, the last respite.

We face, but do not see,
Turn back to find no shadows —
The moon sighs softly.

Darkness descends upon us
The forest murmurs its peace.

You lie unmoving,
Moonlight shines upon my tears —
The final goodbye.