Hypocrites, cowards, poltroon, iniquitous... sinful people!

Well I'll be damned. You my barely empty blog and it's cold reflection of my life, I summon you, yes summon to tell you how you are my only slave, friend and tutor. I learned something so cold, its almost making me feel my soul, and suffocated. Something about expectations. The expectation of not love or mercy but rather intelligence or rationality. It's rare.

Given you have people all around you and only a few be there to see you tear up, you expect rationality from them. Just that... not more. I have had a brutal experience of relying on people who are apparently very righteous,  but when the time comes they surrender to bias, racist, discriminatory even brutal verdicts.

Hypocrites, cowards, poltroon, iniquitous... sinful people!

Why would you so much so talk about something you are not ready to implement? The last thing you get, and what you aim to achieve as you deceive with your words, is respect. And since they're close to someone, they often forget they have the power to sour a heart. But not me. God is mightier to me than blood kinship. I shall return to Him and I know He hates hypocrites, and that His wrath will be mightier than temporal pain. I shall endure, I shall have faith. Cause faith is one part of my heart none of you will penetrate.

Be strong everyone, keep your hold and keep a place in your heart for God, only Him, cause everyone in this world , including me , can manipulate and hypocrite but HIM.

All praise be to Allah, the most merciful and the most gracious. 

When Maa is not around.

   20 years old, I sit, and make big talks about life miracles and philosophies. Feeling so young in my skin at one end, like I can accomplish all my head can imagine. Where reality is dissimilar - my youth battles it, until one day, or so I presume, old age will tire me out of this battler for new warriors to fight the same way, the same war. Life is a loop.

Like a combatant tediously fighting for people and against people (see loop?) I fight impossibilities and perhaps veracity.  ‘Simple’ no more a word to me - but that does not refute its existence. It is as it is. Sitting on a cosy sofa in the company of the cool breeze, all aid to the light shower in the evening and plenty so called ‘intellectual’ books on the side table I wonder why I don’t feel as passive as I should with all the ‘apparent’ thrill of young blood running in my veins and the ‘ideal’ noble framing of my scholarly surroundings.

I miss simple. I miss simple emotions. I miss affection, love, care, tenderness and selflessness ….  I miss Maa.

There, I lost my battle. I lost to reality – the reality of needs and wants... dependency, vulnerability and maybe the truth. I am defeated by my own senses and self-ego. We’re all babies, least me, deceiving babies. Masking under thoughts we create.

The stolen glance.

 'I remember as people roughly cued by to get on the train we looked at each other for a short instance and smiled before she shied her glance away looking down at her shoes or just the floor, I couldn't make out. I was too grasped by the sweetness of it all. Before I knew it - all the people including her had boarded the train; for then I lost her sight, but once inside I tried to casually look for her. Trying to satisfy myself into thinking that it's okay to look around for a stranger like this but failing, thus shuffling my pockets and fixing my coat in a queer manner and soon quitting it to stand still upon realizing how dumb it might come off as. As quickly as my consciousness moved about from finding that girl to fixing my outlook - she appeared. And the  thoughts reversed rapidly from simply fixing my appearance to doing it for her. Something felt poetic about the situation as I saw her eyes too quietly trying to find someone - Or so I like to think what that was. As she placed a wisp of her hairs behind her ear an unclear tattoo appeared parallel to the lobule. Apparently, a word was scribbled in tiny letters, too diminutive for me to read.

  While I tried to observe more of her she caught sight of me. Hopefully unaware of how I was gazing her pretty face - those hard to resist doughy eyes rested upon her slightly worn out crimson cheeks; exposing the winter harshness they've experienced, and the unclad puffy lips paired with that snub nose, all adding up to a simple yet an attractive structure. I found myself staring. To divert the guilt in me, I took my Iphone out, upside down, not cognizant then - but when she stood to walk towards me and I had to pretend doing something indulging on it. To not make a fool out of myself I quickly tucked my phone away, cleared my throat and started to look out the train. What was I do if she approached me? Smile? Talk?. She was nearing me rather fast in my head than I suppose actually.

 Questions and counter questions filled my mind; when suddenly she tripped, due to collision with another passenger I suppose, and hit me. I just heard an exchange of apologies as she held on to a pole tightly and went to standing straight, a slight two steps away. A few minutes passed and  I realized she was checking me out from the corner of her eye. At which point, we both officially recognized each others presence. She promptly looked straight and a suppressed grin appeared on her oval face, making it plumpy. That eased me up and I chucked a little. Her grin grew broader. With that I had enough confidence to walk up to her. She clutched her purse and put it on her left. I assume it to be a signal of positive welcome and so I slid onto her right. We talked'

 Just then the train arrived breaking James chain of thoughts. He got up to board it. That incident, three months ago replayed in his mind at every odd train station. He idly sat on the seat right next to the train door. The train moved and he started to think, again.

 'I lied about my station stop just to enjoy her company a little longer. I didn't catch her destined station but it was somewhere a little far than I can afford to travel. I was way past my house or else I had it in my mind to drop off only at her station,see her off, felt more courteous. She told me her name was Bethany. Somehow we started to talk about movies,then actors and as I started to get comfortable I did a few impressions - bad impressions; least it got her to laugh. Between everything our conversation came to a halt when the next station came to sight and someone's phone rang in the crowd rang. There were only a few people and with us not conversing, the silence really highlighted. The ringing phone reminded more to me than just the silence, it gave me the brilliant idea of asking for her number.

"You surely have a cell? Of-course you do" reverting back immediately " Can  I have your number?" I said. 'Is that how you ask for a number! You dim-witted ass' I thought to myself. Too embarrassed in my head to notice her reaction. She looked surprised, though I could not guess if it was good or bad. I was not going to let go of this opportunity and so I moved my left hand to pick my phone out.

"Listen" She said. Looking as if trying to compose her astonishment. I was afraid I scared her but then she held my right hand. Clutched it gently.

"This is my station. I did not realize. I need to go"

 I froze and stopped all I was doing, including the process call 'thinking'. She walked hurriedly out as the gates closed. If she had taken 3 more seconds to recognize her station, she would have stayed. Oh, how I so wished. I got up to get a last look. Hoping she would least stick to give me a final good-bye look. I walked towards the back of the train. Peeked out the window and saw her walk past. It did not disappoint me so much as I thought about the lateness of the hour and how it was more appropriate for her to leave quickly.

 Until I saw her stop. Two rugged men paused in front of her and starting talking. It was an alerting view for me. I was afraid for her. The train started moving, slowly. I would have shouted if not I saw Bethany reciprocating with more calmness than that can depict fear. She took her purse off her shoulder, starting emptying its content out and giving them to the shrewd heavy build guys. I was apprehensive and confused. She was giving all sorts of stuff. Small stuffs; I couldn't make out what they were, chains, phones ; a few of them all of different types ranging from fancy to nominal ones. Before It struck me, the train had moved a long away along. She looked back at it. Whether for me or not. I could not make out. That was the last of her I saw.

Logical Happiness

          I am not really sure what I am about to say will end up in coherence or not, but here goes.

Have you ever observed how people, even your friends, readily accept to the sad part of things, embracing more promptly the prospects of situations, scenarios and events that bring in them a sense of hopelessness, thus enlarging a picture of self- self victimization. Well, paradoxically I’d do the same if I grab onto this issue, and make you more self conscious as already I am. In any case, that’s not what I am here to talk about. This was just the entrée to what I am preparing for you to hear next.

         That is how to introduce the positive in our lives. Also, questioning why sadness is an overpowering emotion, especially in comparison to that which is happy.
          I’d tell you why. It’s the lack of motivation, that’s the cause, the lack to actually reach out for the better. I believe that anything in us, to very large extends, be it our mental health or physical, is our own product. And that this habit of ours to play the victim has gone too far, certainly seeming easier to us than to put some effort. I mean it is after all only logical that we look for something more positive to rule out that which is negative at the moment in our life. But then again, us humans, we just aren’t as logically bright as we think. We realize too much stress paralyses us, we realize that it causes our thinking to blur, yet we don’t provide ourselves with what you and I both know to exist : the good, the positive, the optimistic. It’s like having an iron deficiency, we are aware of what we lack and so, we start eating iron rich food, taking iron rich tablets so on and on. In short, we’d do anything to rid of this lack. That right there, logic ladies and gentlemen. Likewise emotional deficiencies need to be understood and treated for us to be better, for people around us to be better. If not all, some measure of ease will definitely descend you. You have my word for it.

    If only… if only, we openly accept to the fact that there is a neutralizing force to everything, and that we don’t have to live in complete darkness or gleefully turn into maniacs by being overjoyed 24/7. And that we can shift between the two and find a balance. The right harmony i.e. we will be fine… just fine.

        The next time you feel sad, or you see someone being upset and you have that sense in you to realize, that rationally one shouldn't be this saddened or its time enough to get yourself straight, say aloud that happiness is as openly available as sadness is. Ask them to help themselves, and seek for the right medication: the logical happiness, and not meditate in the sickness for too long. Cause hey! that’s just not logical


Sad reality

A stranger's pain.

The strongest of bond
the heartiest of laughs,
O Sister of mine,
you redefine what's refine.

Held us, you did
not by the red in our veins,
instead an embrace -
oddly comfortingly plain
unlike blood itself, 
I eventually gain.

So powerful, 
this agreement - unseen,
this knot - imaginary, 
but be warn, not just illusionary.

Tell me how I question not,
who don't believe in the mighty,
also unseen,
If something so beautiful exists
like you,
with me.

In winters
 one day, like any other with you
over a cup of coffee,
as comforting as you
you poured more than usual,
what is the happy you...

those oozing secrets, unheard.

Withering lips,
paling cheeks,
moist eyes,
how had the summer in you,
suddenly changed to the cold outside my view.

O sister of mine
after years of love for you,
I learned,
finally discovered,
a stranger's pain,
and then it hurt.