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

You

   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.

Sixth

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   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

Seventeenth

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.

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Words of Wisdom Today

love this..

talinorfali

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.

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Serenity

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   They say you can’t end up with your true love, well for most people if not all. True love or not life has a wicked way of tearing us apart from the ones we desire the most, and the crazy part is it used our own hyper-emotional state of heart to make us either excessively annoying or the other person extremely suspicious. On second thought, I guess it is not true love but rather a search for satisfaction in seeking sensual inspiration often in the least attractive, at least least attractive to the general population, ones.

   Romance starts with a spark, that flames up in the depths of our heart and burns like wild fire. The commencement of a relationship is often the best part that never would be attained again in the future. The zenith of the conditional love created between two people is usually the dawn of it, before we get to know each other, before any complication crops, while we were blind and brave. The first step of an adventure is exciting, full of energy and little bumps and falls are easily skipped over and laughed off. The rough waves of a small tide are actually fun when it rocks the boat that we aboard the sea on. The sun is shining and there is not a speck of cloud in the sky.

   But it is human to tire and exhaust. The first few winds become struggle. The next climb gets tougher, seemingly steeper and the blame game starts. The self-righteous soul is in control and it is but a bad master. For the decent few, insults of a few may be well tolerated but then it gets difficult even for the meek to endure all the way and all the time. Rather, it is impossible. And it doesn’t help to finally lose control of subsiding all the pent up anger and frustrations. Insult starts to fly with the wild wind, multi-directional and slapping across faces in the most indecent manner. Love, is not love at all, considering the way when such claim is easily clouded by anger, frustration, hurt, pride, ego, and the list goes on. A storm is inevitable, and the storm did come.

   There is no say of civilization under the horrendous storm. All hands on deck, but every touchdown has a feedback that made it seem earlier moments look better. Fights after fights, each fight brewing more hurt and pain, each more hideous than the preceding ones. There is no way the ship can be of any help in such a storm, and so we abandon ship. But the storm does not easily go away, and every break-up does not immediately put an end to all the misery. The hurt goes on, as the storm kept on thrashing the sea, like it is about to disembowel it, if it should have any bowel that is. The pain lingers like the contractions of an expecting mother, it aches, it subsides, it aches again, each contraction goes harder, each pain hurts more. Melancholy drives you insane, like you might just lose your mind, and sometimes you do. Actions untold of, reasons uncalled for, stupid deeds with no explanation at all, more embarrassing moments, more hurt.

   It is not for the heart to thrive in a storm or to be strikened by hurt all the time, it tires out. The fight for something thought of value dies if it does not give a favorable outcome. You can’t win all fights, very true; so sometimes the heart got to lose. There comes a time when everything that has been held dear is just a hopeless nothing, a useless, formless void that does not stand for anything. No more screams, no more cries, no more tries, just silence. All you want to do is sit quietly all by yourself and void yourself of anything that might even in the slightest manner creep into your thoughts. You feel drained, exhausted and completely empty. There is no good nor bad that is left in you. No news can strike you, there is no bad news that’s too bad, there is no good news that’s exciting. Anything and everything is a ‘whatever’.

   In a way, nothing can hurt you anymore. The storm has died out, and the sea is as clear as ever. The clouds have parted and the sky is clearer than the sea that reflected it. Numbed, nothing can hurt you anymore because you really don’t care and it doesn’t really matter. What happen or will happen is not going to change anything nor is it going to bring anyone back. Indifferent, nothing can get your attention. The world is just a fancy materialization of dreams that does not really come true, just another false alarm, trickery and all lies. And with time, gentle breeze and soft tide, you just sail along and mindlessly aboard any ship that would pick you up.

   The spark that became a wild fire dimmed down to that of a lighthouse, from lighthouse to a flaming torch, from torch to a candle. Candle flame flickers down to that of a matchstick, to ember and to darkness. A cold hard darkness that once used to be a wonderful glow of warmth and life, a
forest fire, a lighthouse.

   I think I almost got the point why we can’t settle down with our true love. We get emotional, we get jealous, we get fussy and the list goes on. It is stressful, we hurt too much, like we are in a storm. But when we lose hope and the storm subsides, when nothing can hurt because we are numb, when nothing can attract us because we are not interested, that is when we are finally ready to settle down, our serenity.

12 May 2013
4.50PM

Your opinion, My decision

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   Man is a social animal. No man is an island. We live in a close-knit society sharing common interests like language, culture, religion, history, tradition, so on and so forth. Proficient in different talents and trades, we are in a way forced to depend on each other; not everyone is a farmer, nor for that matter everyone a doctor, or a mason, or a tailor; we depend on each other according to our own needs. Probably, once a basic need to live together a very long time ago has led to the evolution of social administration, justice system and, with ever increasing community size, control system. We now have courts, police, politics and the list goes on.

   Growing up in a community like ours where the goodness of man is still cherished and voluntary organisations work on a full non-credit basis for the welfare of the community; for instance, we take time to mourn the dead according to a proper ceremonial burial in line with tradition. Much of the orthodoxy is still active, and this shapes the up-growth of generations that followed the previous who also went through the same discipline, even though with some changes for the newer generation to adjust optimally with the ever advancing world. This is not something new, it was only tradition to have ‘zawlbuk’ which could be considered a disciplinary centre, occupational academy, youth club, administrative centre, and anything else it would have stood for. The modern Mizo Community poorly improvise in continuing tradition to certain accuracy by running non-government organisations like YMA for youths, MHIP for women, MUP for folks to name a few.

   The manner in which we maintain the accuracy of the term ‘close-knit’ was what struck me when I had to finally leave home to attend college in a neighbouring state. I realized, it was not even a quarter of what it was like out here that I had thought the terminology would represent. The revelation occurred to me, when on one of my vacations at home that my dad told me, “Be careful, we hear of your whereabouts before even your own roommate get to know it”. It only meant people were quite serious in gossiping about others’ lives more than we ourselves could ever be interested. The improved communication system, where it is now possible to have a live conversation with someone on the opposite side of the globe did not help at all; rather it is like a super fast catalyst. Talking about global village, felt more like global next-door-neighbourhood!

   It is a silent struggle to grow up in a community like ours where everyone has his or her opinion and thinks that it is the best. Family upbringing sets for us a standard, then comes the school or workplace, the church, then society, peer pressure, gender-wise expectations both to the same and opposite sex, and some other groups and mini-groups we get attached to. In our effort to blend in and get accepted in all of them, which often gives us contrasting standards, it is very easy to lose our true self and get lost in the desires and expectations of other people. Identity crisis comes not as a surprise but rather with a high probability. Starting from our way of dressing and going up all the way to the preferences and arguments of others eats up our life; dictating our code of conduct, strangles our original identity and shapes us into something else. We become puppet to the ways of whoever is appointed leader, who himself is no more than a puppet too. We do not think on our own anymore, we do not know what we really want, we become yes-yes to what others agree to and a no-no to whatever they do not.

   We have become so engrossed in what others think, and people think, too often and too shamelessly than they ought to be given credit for. It is necessary that we take opinions, but it is often best, we keep it at that, just opinions. It has become routine and that to a sickening one when every time dad gives me counsel ‘based’ on how others would think, about reputation which again is excessively approval dependent. Who are people anyway, to approve rather than accept?  They do not even sweat a single drop for you while you might barely live to struggle everyday just to survive. You may call it a ‘social’ thing, but it is starting to marginalize towards ‘abuse’, yes abuse, abnormal usage of one’s positional and opinionated advantage to shape the life and cause of other people to our own interest.

   The saddest part is we still fuss over their opinions and pitifully wait for their approval. Earlier I too was not free of such trivia either. Born and brought up in a pastoral family where service to people and humility is of utmost care, too often we have been moulded to reshape into the interest of the congregation partly in support of dad’s ministry. It was but heartbreaking to see my sister, at a young age, cry when mom with no second thoughts accused her guilty over some gossip a certain thin-lips seem to have created. Yes, ours is also a community where gossip surprisingly and sadly holds a high place. I daresay I have had my fair share of gossip, on the receiving end, struggling at times in the many relationships I have had and ending up with a bad break-up. Growing up was more like slowly losing myself every day. From what dad wants, to what ‘that-lady-I-do-not-even-know’ might think, never the ‘what-I-like’ but always that ‘what-would-others-think’. We all go through this, only most of us do not even know we are becoming others and not ourselves. There is no satisfaction, no true happiness, because it is not what ‘we’ like but what ‘they’ like.

   Accusation is a weapon we often are too eager to put ourselves vulnerable to. Mockery is what usually gets us down. We are so ready to justify ourselves with useless explanations that seldom comes out right. We lack the courage of ‘So what? It is not your best concern’ gut, rather we end up a stammering dolt making ourselves look a complete fool. People say this, people say that, and the next moment we are complete goners and we lose our sanity. In a social family, yes, opinions are of high value, but they still are just opinions. After all, no one who gives their trivial opinions or tries to dictate others is going to pay for a single grain of cereal to feed you.

   People talk a lot, and more often they judge too much. Many times we try to live by the approval of others, and this sickens me. I’d say one thing, let them believe what they like; because what others think about me is one, what I know of me is another; your opinion, my decision.

3am 15 May 2013

Nineteen

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  Nineteen… NINETEEN! It keeps on ringing in my head, NINETEEN! NINETEEN! And I just can’t think straight anymore. My mind keeps on going in circles, round and round to the times that had been wild and passionate, stupid in its entire meaning, deep and meaningless; yet it meant everything to me, still does. Such silly date that comes twelve times a year, and the same old silly me that’s gonna be crazy for the next twelve times in the year to come; nineteen, nineteen. Let me at least do justice to this day and jot down something, for it is special, has been, always will be.

   Sleepless nights during exam time, not something new to me, no surprise there; and as I lay awake, only hours between the dawn that’s waiting with the professors to drill me in the hospital I couldn’t help recalling how I spent the recent week that passed me by. First thing I noticed a hungry, growling tummy. Yes, I have one insatiable stomach that says “Feed me! Feed me!” even after a feast of a dinner. Then my studies took over. I have wasted every countable second, in the last moment flipped my humungous books in frenzy, tried to shove everything in at one go till I felt dizzy with too much knowledge, and then got mixed up so bad that I don’t know what’s head or tail anymore!

   I never forget to pray during exam time, I doubt no one will. Every religion, every ethnic; me being a Christian almost find it surprising to see a Hindu girl whispering prayer with the question paper sandwiched between folded hands on her table in the exam hall. I had to do a double reminder that everyone prays, not only Christians. But twenty years of the same old ordeal starts to get into my head: I never missed a single prayer during exams, but i never did a single prayer out of it. That’s when I start to think, my efforts are bare minimum and here I am, begging on bended knees for help I wouldn’t even toil for. Where’s the grace in that? I had had more than enough time and resources, to do my part, and also the health and opportunity to give my best. But what I just displayed is an exact opposite of effort.

   That’s when I started to think that even God would not be eager to help such sloth, matter of fact He’d despise it; all the more reason to because I happen to live so badly. Yes, I couldn’t have any complains at all and wouldn’t even dare to because I haven’t played my part, I haven’t done my homework. So there even was a time when I just waved it off saying “God, I know how much I deserve, may Your will be done”, and God willing or not I do not know, that year I failed like the failure I was. It was still a bad encounter though, with all the blames and rebukes from a well-mouthed guardian.

   But one night, or should I put it as one fateful night, undergoing the same old pre-exam insomniac situation, something new came into my mind. If someone happen to pass me by, could be anyone out of the blue, asks for my help; and if it is within my power and ability to help that person, would I do it? And my mind starts to race back to different encounters at varying times in the past. Be it a complete stranger, someone I barely knew, someone I’ve known from somewhere, someone closer, someone very close, someone I dislike, even my enemy (provided I have one, though of which I currently cannot recall any); if anyone at all comes to me, begging for help, would I?

   And my answer was, and still is: Yes! I definitely would! In the past, I had too! It doesn’t matter if that person is useful or useless to me, doesn’t matter if he/she is good or bad, doesn’t matter if close or distant, it doesn’t matter be it profitable or not, I surely would help, as have I did.

   Then it strikes me, if I, a mere human being, lesser than most human being, have a heart to help someone irrespective of the situation or of the relationship I have with the person in need and well within my power and ability; God, the Almighty, the Omnipotent, the maker of heaven and earth, the Counsellor, the Merciful, the Wonderful, the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the Alpha and Omega would sure have not just a heart but the complete compassion and the perfect love to help if only I should ask, regardless of any condition and irrespective of any situation. If I, the least of all my fellowmen have a heart to respond to a plea, how much more would my Father to whatever I need ask of Him?

19 December 2013

 

Prologue

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Monday 22 April 2013 12:35AM

I was a child, pious and free
Safe from chaos this world could be
Alive and living
A free human being
Counted my days, gleaming with glee. 

I am a soldier, life is war
Sword and shield, burns, bruises and scars
Alive but barely
Alone and lonely
Clinging barely to life so dear. 

I will be a man, strong and bold
Survive I will, both fire and sword
Amazed you will be
At what I shall be
Come life, come chaos, heed my word.