A little not over yet

I went scrolling down the list of names of facebook, because part of me knows your name will appear soon; however, part of me also knows that it is a bad idea. But when fifty one percent of me keep on scrolling down the list of names, the forty nine percent just could not stop me from what I was doing. And certainly as pain itself promised, I saw your name and it felt like some sort of pressurized force went down from the tip of my head to my whole body and ends at my toes, and it hurts.

And that surprises me, every time! It hurts! Every single time! After all this time, I just cannot understand how the impact of losing you could affect me up till now, more than a year now. I tried, first I avoided it, but it came often and it drove me to near insanity; then I let it run through me, I bared my fangs to all the unwanted feelings, and yes it hurts, a lot. What surprised me is that it still hurts the same way it did at the start, or rather the end, of it. Only progress is that I learned not to let it show. And it feels a little lonesome, but I did it anyway, hide them all away.

In a book I read there is this particular line I absolutely love and hate at the same time. This broken hearted girl who out of broken-heartedness on the verge of suicide, saved by a mystery “wizened” man asked about the hurt she is going through. And the answer was “sometimes never”. It was clear, so clear yet so vague at the same time. Is it even possible? That a single answer could mean something so opposite! But it does.

See, she was this characteristic portrayal of a classical absolute social failure, so called “geek”, you may picture her with glasses and all, perhaps a little plump that you would like any human to be who woe-be-all happen to fall in love with this characteristic absolutely sociable, handsome, charming, all-that-you-can-think-good-of guy but in reality is just another self-centered completely flirtatious person. Unfortunate girl if you ask me. And she was completely broken, lost all hope and so on.

“Sometimes never”; she is probably scarred for life, but she is going to get up, collect the pieces and build herself together again.

I do not know what makes it feel this way, and I know not what you have to make it feel this way: but it is such that when I was with you I feel like I don’t need anyone else in this world, and it felt good. So when you moved away, it felt empty and sad. And somehow I feel less, which is why I feel a little angry too. When I think about you, sometimes see you across the street, I felt small and inferior and that is not a very nice thing to feel about oneself. And I still have not learned how to feel otherwise.

18 February 2015
0115 hours


17 January 2015

On one corner of the city a group of teenagers got into a nasty fight, on another a baby couldn’t stop crying, went pale and gasped for dear life; on another a drunken rider drove too fast, slipped and fell, maybe broke a bone; on another corner a girl burst into cold sweat and winced with much pain. And there is the expecting girl whose tummy just started to come alive with labor pain. And they all end up at the center of the city; some will live through the night, some might not, a few would lose a limb while other would be cut open for repair; life will be lost, life will also be brought upon.

As I was moving around doing what is necessary – asking, probing and examining to do almost anything to make things right for those who needs it, I see a lot of people: people from different backgrounds: different social levels, different attitudes, different problems, different ways of thinking, different ways of approach, different in all possible sense. It drives me to my most variable sense of being, from extreme anger to extreme passion. It also drives me to my utmost submission to the fact that I have my own limits and my utmost submission to my utmost limits; my most and my least.

It also leads me to think about the things that I have never thought of, to do things that I have never even dreamt myself of doing. Some things pushed me to force myself in to certain situations; others pushed me to force myself out of certain situations. You could say it is part of growing up, I’d say growing up gave me a lot, and maybe costs me an equally lot. Who knows? Maybe life is after all a give and take; perhaps you have got to drop a few to pick new things along the way.

Have you ever thought that while you were partying away somewhere probably wasting a lot of resource some people are struggling just to live not even the day but the hour, or perhaps the minutes, counting each and every of them precious seconds? Have you ever imagined leaving a place where people cry because of a dead loved one to witness just a block away people making joyful noise?

While the youths of life would give you tremendous energy to do whatever comes to mind, remember the days that are yet to come, to grow old, to grow weary; you may smile today, you might cry tomorrow and vice versa. While the youths of life burn with blazing flames, remember they can turn to ember anytime, and embers today could ablaze anytime.

Remember your Creator in the days of your youth; happy birthday.

17 January 2015

Stages of Grief: 4. Depression


   I am in this crowd, submerged in a sea of hundred if not  thousand faces; everywhere I look there are people, people everywhere; yet it  felt like I am on my own, like I am not a part of them, part of the world, part  of anything. Just about anything could make me cry; only thing is that I am  extremely good at holding them back. I have built this huge dam and I am not  willing to let this river flow. No, I would never show weakness, never! I am  strong, but I must admit I feel weaker than an infant; I am bold, but I shy away  at the mere thought of you.

   Everything else seem to be so overwhelming, and I’d lose my  breath; I keep on walking but I know not where; my brain seem to cease its  work, only my feet are in motion and I am unaware of where they take me. Then a  seemingly quiet place I rest my gluteus, only to find out, as I raise my head,that I have been sitting on a roadside very much like that poor beggar I helped  just the other day.

   I saw you today and I flinched, and I hid, and then I ran,as fast as these pathetic heels would carry me. What was I so afraid of? Why am  I hiding? I am not to be ashamed. I did no wrong. But I still ran. And I still  ran because you see, it was too much for me to see your face that once loved me  more than anything in this world; and I believed that because you said it yourself;  but now it wouldn’t smile for me. I wonder, afraid to know who you’re smiling  for now, yet restless to know who.

   It was a good morning when I cheerfully woke up and I thought  the pain was gone. I seemed awake than the rest of the days that passed like  they were nightmares. And then breakfast happens, and of all the occasions I had  to remember you, you! My stomach fell and my taste buds refused to work. My throat  suddenly narrows and not a grain of rice could pass. I felt like crying then and  there, but I wouldn’t show a single tear in front of family.

   What is a man to do when mornings hold no reason for the  day? What is a man to do when the messages that awaits and gladdens the wakening  ceases to deliver? I look at my phone every morning to see it empty and quiet  like it lost its voice to holler me a ringtone. I know it was only a couple of  months and I am probably overreacting, but I know what it felt like and I had  just enough time to have fallen in love with you.

   It is not a beautiful life when it hurts just before you  sleep and it restarts as soon as you wake up in the morning. Why can’t this  just go away? It’s been seven months now, seven months! This is insane! Yet here  I am. I don’t even know what I am doing here. Where am I? What have I done to  myself? What have I done to that beautiful relationship we had? The sun sets. Where  now is the sunrise? I see dark clouds. But there is no silver lining. No showers  of blessing. No rainbows. Just thick, dark, cold clouds everywhere.

   Energy I lack, motivation I lack, I am deficient of hope, life and laughter; because you see, all these things come in a package, and that package is you my love, YOU. I miss you so much it hurts my very core.

26 August 2014
0134 hours

Stages of Grief: 3. Bargaining


   Come back, please come back! Tell me, what have I done; or,  what have I not done? Is it something I did? Or is it something I failed to do?  Is it the way I walk? Is it the way I talk? Is it just being me? Have I misconduct  myself? Tell me; please just tell me where did I go wrong to have lost you this  bad? How can you leave someone you stared at the face with all content  completely in just a matter of one lousy break-up conversation? What right can  I make?

   Have you forgotten how you felt back then? You see, I can’t  forget how you made me feel. Isn’t there any chance that you haven’t forgotten  all the things you said you felt? Isn’t there any chance that you remember how  you once felt for me, and maybe feel that again? I refuse to believe that all those  feelings would just be gone in a matter of not even weeks but days.

   What can I do to make  this right again? What can I do to have you back again? Tell me, tell me and I  would do anything, anything! I worked through my schedule because I was afraid  I wouldn’t be able to give enough time for you; I would re-work through any  schedule if you only would give me a chance. Any kind of displeasure you have  of me I would change it and change it over again till it would honor you.  Anything I did shameful, though I cannot erase, I would rectify and do a  hundred others just so you feel good again.

   Have I broken your heart? Have I bruised you  unintentionally? Have I scoured your feelings? All I have done, and all that I  am willing to do, and everything else there is to; nothing in the world would I  allow to leave not a scratch on you. Mine is not so beautiful as compared to  yours when you smile, mine is not even half alluring as your beautiful  physique; but my heart is pure, and this is my one pride. I know what I feel  for you, and I know that these feelings are true. If anything else fails, if anything  else I am not even a competition to the more attractive world, but I know that no  other soul will love you as much as mine does.

   I did my best, I swear! I trusted you, I had not a single  wrong notion of your being; no, not in the slightest of sense. And in the  greatest of sense, my ever-aching heart longs for your presence, your smile the  most beautiful of all; I ache for you, please, come back home.

Sunday, August 24, 2014
2109 hours

Stages of Grief: 2. Anger


   How could you do this to me? You’re a liar, bitch! I could draw  a million angry faces and it wouldn’t suffice. We both promised each other that  we wouldn’t break hearts; how could you break mine so easily? And you didn’t even  flinch. No fight, no drama, no pre-announcement; you just said the word and  that’s it; how could you? Have you no respect? Am I that pathetic? Did I not  deserve some explanation? Am I nothing at all?

   How is your new boyfriend? Or is it ‘was’ already? Do you  flip sides in just a matter of seconds? Are you this flimsy? Do you really just  go to whatever your latest desire land? Do you do magic, that one second you  made me feel the best and the next you make me feel like garbage? Are you  really this cold-hearted? As much as I would like to deny that you are a bitch,  I am still waiting for the heavens to prove me otherwise.

   Why do I even bother? It’s been the same routine, the same  initial bliss, followed by the same ‘something-is-not-right’ sensation, and  finally the same ‘just-as-I-feared’ event. Stupid shit happens over and over  again. And here I am, lamenting the obvious, the old and the pathetic for a  thousandth time now. You might ask me ‘is it not time you get over the sick  bush and improve for real?’, I would tell you ‘I feel exactly the same’. But again, here I still am, pathetic  as ever.

   At times I get mad, when I think of it in a certain manner. “It’s  not fair” “This shouldn’t be happening to me”… so on and so forth. For once I  want to get the eff out of this shit and grow up. For once I would sure hell  like to move on. Six months now and here I am, pathetically broken,  pathetically hurt, and pathetically angry. What the eff have I been doing here?  This is one effing situation I get myself into.

   No, no hateful emails from me. This is the least I can do to  maintain my sanity. I don’t need any support. I can get through this, I will. It  will take time. I will get angry. I will get mad. But I am going to make it. I promise.

Dated 13 August 2014
0135 hours

Stages of Grief: 1. Denial


   I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. This is not  happening to me. It was barely two months and you can’t change your mind too soon. It was only during our second last conversation you said about your comfy zone and I was already thinking along that line. Most relationship ends when both sides got no fighting cause; you didn’t even give me a fighting chance! Any kind of feelings can’t end too soon. It could get deteriorated and finally disappear, but not like this; not overnight.

   I refuse to believe that I am nothing to you. I refuse to belief that all those times were of nothing to you, that you don’t remember the good times; that you’re not affected by the affections we had. Please do not make me remind you that it was you who noticed me.

   It was you who took note of me in my apron with a small stethoscope heading towards the out-patient department that fateful morning, and I was looking at nobody and noticed no one around me. It wasn’t me who was responsible for whatever happened after I accepted that stupid friend request. It wasn’t me who was determined to get me. I never had so much peace, confidence and yet now a breakdown in my life. I never knew I could be so loved, I never knew I could be so rejected by the same.

   What did I do wrong? Where is my mistake? When did I provoke you? Was it something I said? Was it something I did? Or was it something I did not? Was it me? Was it the way I talk? Was it the way I walk? Did I not smile enough? Did I laugh too much? Had I not given you enough attention? Did I neglect you? Was it my busy schedule? Was it my livelihood? Was it my job? Was it my family? Was it just me? Where did I go wrong?

   I believed everything you said, from what you said when you claimed to be busy to the times when you just don’t feel like chatting. And I understand; I force myself to even when I don’t. I trusted you, except when you told me you wanted to wrap things up. My system could just not register that final piece of information. I found it hard to believe you loved me, and now I find it hard to believe that you don’t.

   I refuse to talk myself into thinking that you are a  scumbag, a good-for-nothing bitch who went in and goes out heartlessly. I have nothing but good thoughts of you; I did, and is still doing it. But that is the exact thing that drives me insane. You see, what I thought of you, and what you’re making of me just doesn’t add up.

   I do not want to label this as love because it is just one-sided now, yet I can’t label it as fowl-play. I just can’t get myself to thinking that you are as heartless as it seems to appear. You are but a cruel angel to my hollowed heart.

Dated 12 August 2014
0017 hours


   What is this that keeps me holding on even though I do know so clearly that nothing good would ever come out of it? What is this that made me make myself so miserable even though there is no reward for the misery no matter how harsh I am upon myself? Why am I in such denial when the obvious is staring at me at point blank range?

   Why do I keep wearing it when I know so clearly that it’s never going to bring you back? After all, it is just a metallic cylindrical material that encircles one of my fingers which without you have no meaning at all; no meaning, no life, no purpose, just a cold, solid metal and a painful reminder of how much I miss you.

   I do not understand a thing about what in the world is happened. The more I think about it, the deeper my confusion goes. I kept telling myself I’m going to be fine, the next moment I realized I kept lying to myself  then and there, every single moment. Why is it that I can’t kill this false  hope hoping that you would just come back? Something is definitely wrong with  me.

   The best way I can describe, is that my mind knows that you left me in the  most cold-hearted manner, but my heart completely and repeatedly denies that. I  let it play through my head so many, many, many, many times but it just doesn’t register;  I am incapable of accepting the fact that you are no different.

   I miss so many things in life. I miss that smile, the  confidence, I miss having someone out there who misses me the same as I do. I miss  that regular good-night kiss that never gets boring, I miss waking up in the  morning and the first thing I see would be a text message, not just any text  message but your text message.

   I have never seen a smile as beautiful as that  smile, just thinking about it now makes me happy and sad at the same time. Who would  believe that you would change your mind knowing the way you used to clung on to me? Who  would have even guessed that? But it still happened, and I’m still in denial.

   It’s almost three months now, and here I am, still as  miserable as ever. Sometimes I wish that if only I get to get you to talk, at  the same time I’m freaking scared that that might happen; and then I thought it’s  so stupid to ever have that kind of thought in my head because neither is going  to happen even if it’s the end of the world!

   I have never been so loved, and at  the same time so rejected as did by you.




   I still remember what we were taught in science subject when we were really young: the five senses – the senses of sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch. Eyes to see, ears to hear, mouth to taste, nose to smell and a whole surface of sensitive skin. These are the main senses that help us live our daily life the way we do; we see things so that we can discern, we hear to know what we should discern, our noses tell us what is wrong or what is right, our mouth tell us what to eat, we feel to tell if we are in the right place or if we are clothing ourselves accordingly. And in unison, all these senses corroborate to tell us almost everything that surrounds us and the how’s, why’s, where’s and what’s of our being at a place, at a time each moment that we are. At a higher level of studies we learn that all these senses are governed and directed by a higher center: the brain, which is capable of even more complex work to make us who we are: humans.

   But human life is way more complicated than just these five senses and a brain that controls them. We are capable of emotions. We ‘hurt’ without any physical trauma, we are ‘blind’ to certain things that are clearly visible, we are ‘deaf’ to words spoken out loud, and offensive smells are at times directive, we are ‘numb’ to torture if for a particular cause. We basically defy the very senses that help us live to survive, or rather, is it that there is another sense that works in complete contradiction to these five senses? Often we see things that are not there, hear them speak, smell their familiar odor, tastes them and feel their touch but they are not there!

   It happened to me many times now, I couldn’t see a single flaw on that face which gave the most beautiful smile I ever saw, friends talk of ‘rotten seed’ but it just doesn’t enter my inner ears, I still vividly remember that smell when we’d held each other, and at times I can almost feel that touch across my skin, my mouth knows too well how that kiss tastes. I feel love. I fell in love with someone, a human being, whom I can touch, see, smell, taste and hear. It is so easy, that extra sense in me that made my heart beat faster, that made my chest feel hurt, and that gave me butterflies in my tummy just by the thought alone. And I can make promises I can keep because I can see to it that it happens. Sometimes I don’t even need to open my eyes, all I have to do is hug, close my eyes, and feel everything then and there.

   But to err is human. People find it so hard to love each other. People almost always break promises to each other. Love they can see, smell, hear, taste and touch yet they cheat, lie and adulterate all the time. Promises made to other people and none bother kept even though they see them every single day! So the thought goes on; how can you claim to love God whom you can’t see, hear, touch, taste or feel when you can’t even love your own fellow human who is just beside you? How do you plan to keep promises to God when you can’t even keep a single promise to a fellow human who you can see every day?

1 John 4:20 If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.

8 Feb 2014


January 17, 2014 at 7:17pm

 The seventeenth day of the first month of 2014; yep, that’s my birth anniversary. That fateful day some years ago God granted me life on this earth through my loving parents. I just couldn’t let the day go without giving myself some credit by jotting a few lines; so here goes.

 I remember when we were young we were so much wanting, we barely had just enough, and luxury was beyond wildest dreams. Mom and dad were sincerely economical, and they managed things flawlessly. Food comes first, then education. We ate to live, and we survived to study. I don’t remember night that passed without mom having us open our books to at learn a line or two. From normal tone to raised voices to sticks, not a single second went away without mom having us study. School was heaven for us.

 Growing up wasn’t the most pleasurable nor memorable event. No, it was almost the opposite. When you look at fellow age-groups doing things that you can’t afford to do, going to places you can’t afford to go, and all the other nonsense. But life wasn’t all miserable, small achievements, small happiness, life goes on.

 And then there were small ups, know, really small ups. There was the matriculation, then the higher secondary, then college. The greatest, I mean, highest ‘up’ happens on graduation. Time to pay back all the hard work ingratitude and it is done, and am still doing.

 And now, looking back at those days, and living the life now; all those past hurts, now becoming phantoms of the mind, some scars, some barely now a scratch. Life does go on, whether we want it or not. I’m just glad the first seventeenth of this year is mine, and may be someone else’s to share with.

Happy birthday.


Words of Wisdom Today

love this..


Nothing is greater than being yourself. Everybody else is already taken. Be who you are, show who you are, and never be afraid of shining out to the world. You are special, beautiful, and can do anything you put your mind to. It all starts with the right decision to try because without trying you will never find out. Take that initiative, move forward and you will see what initiative and enthusiasm will take you. Be positive, free spirited, be confident, stand tall, smile, enjoy, be kind, and you will start seeing life in a different and great way and always remember if things are not going the way you plan now, just keep going, there is a road that will take you to where you want to be. Just have faith, and believe in yourself.

View original post