Tag Archives: dark

Stage 41: Hope

Hope- The fatal flaw of every being.

The mind is capable of many things- it is fascinating and brilliant in its abilities and is incomparable in its pure power. But an inkling of hope is all it takes to pierce your mind with farcical ideas.. to neutralise any sense of logic you might have possessed.  It pushes and pulls in all the right places to disguise any desire you had as an achievable goal. It collects any tears you shed and pools them into a wishing well. It refutes any facts, breaks any walls and tears down any science you followed to reinforce its presence.

Hope makes pain irrevocably real and amplifies any vulnerability, however in its absence we relentlessly seek it; a self-infliction of pain that is worth suffering because of the happiness it brings.

Hope: an anecdote for all rationality

a driver and destroyer

a devotion that shows no bounds

a faith that appeals to the divine

an irresponsible emotion that fights against all odds.

 

 Seek hope.. it brings meaning to pain.

 

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Stage 40: A meaningless conversation

‘How have you been’ she wistfully asked, refusing to lock eyes with him.

‘I’ve been good’ he responded, his feet restlessly scratching the dull gravel.  ‘And you??’ he quickly added, speaking too fast and too eagerly.

Unaware of the passion expelled through his welcoming body language, she made a silent promise never to start a ‘dead-end’ conversation again. ‘How is your mother now?’

‘She’s better. Healing… You know how painful heartbreak can be but she’ll be fine. It was good for her. For us’

‘Yeah I.. I know how painful it can be…’ her tone strayed away with her thoughts.

‘You know my brother actually got to go to that competition’ he irrelevantly imparted.

‘Oh! Yeah actually I think i saw that on FaceBook. Congratulations, I know how much you were rooting for him.’ a warm smile escaped her along with her words.

‘Thank you, yeah I think I was more excited about his win than him’ he laughed comfortably.

‘Hahaha’ regretting her choice of response as soon as it left her mouth, she knew she had ended the conversation she most wanted to have. Frustrated at her inability to think of anything else to say, she excused herself hurriedly, forgetting that he, was still able.

 

A-lot was said that day.

A-lot is said without saying anything.

 

 


Art work by Roxanne Daner

 

 

 

Stage 39: A lawless love

I watched her from my side of the room- it was an unspoken rule between us- i was allowed to admire her for the price of never knowing her; damned to the solitude of my attraction towards her forever.

It was physical too though- our divide.

I hated the most terrifying exhilaration I’ve felt in my entire life.

Whether it was day or night, my feelings had to be confined for I knew they were worthless.

I knew she would never reciprocate the emotions i harboured and i was sure of this because of the pure terror i saw in her eyes whenever she glanced my way.                         I knew I would not survive if i revealed myself to her but i craved the thought of how close it would bring us together… and eventually after months of suppressed yearning I decided it was time.

Coming out of the background, which i blended into seamlessly, was more difficult than i had anticipated. She was too busy writing in her blood red journal- it was her favorite thing to do, no matter what her mood; sometimes her hand would quiver with fury as she wrote and other times i would see that same hand steady and calm as if it belonged to a yogi . I was jealous of that book- It knew everything about her i never would, and it would continue to learn everything about her long after i was gone.

Before I made my final steps, I remembered the day i fell in love with her; It was my first day there and it only took me a fraction of a second to find the most dominant presence in the room- a presence I wished I could call mine.

Never had i ever seen something so beautiful in my entire life… never had there been born such a fool to love someone the way i did- enough to die for them.

I left my web and scrambled across the bed- she had noticed me and was lifting her book over her head, her eyes turning wide. I had to be quick, I had to be faster, I had to touch her before she..

Stage 38: The theratess

He walked through her door, and immediately a welcoming warmth embraced him. Her presence came to greet his aura, scolding his uncertainty. He left his doubts and dignity at the threshold as if it was a matter of undressing. Although he always left saying he would never come back, here he was again. It was as if there was a sedative in that room- one that captured and paralyzed you in its comfort. However, as soon as you left, its effect vanished- gone too perfectly, without a trace, which always made him question whether it was ever there in the first place- whether he was right to feel safe in the embrace of what he could never find elsewhere.

He walked calmly towards the chaise where she waited. His stride was controlled, deliberate and complacent but slowly became more and more desperate. With every step he channeled his burdens, ready to unleash them at her with all the force he had. She was waiting patiently for him.

He now recognised the need he denied adamantly in the outside world- the need for a release… the need for a her.

She had greeted him and he had responded, both of them aware of the odd formality this brought to a meeting so frequent. He ignored the pangs of guilt- the emotions that would be shared in this room today, he had not even shared with his wife.

He finally reached her and stopped at her feet. He noticed the ID tag around her neck securing their relationship.

‘Sit down Russel, how was your week?’ she recited, as she turned to a new page in her notepad.

Stage 37: The final act.

She plucked the eyeshadow palette off of the cluttered dresser. It was hard to see in the dimly lit room but nevertheless she applied the pigment to her lids like a seasoned professional.

A tube-light flickered in a distant corner of the cramped room. Undeterred, she masterfully coated her lips with deep red paint. Next was the highlighter- the highlighter was most important. Anong had always said that next to a good pair, glitter was the way to a man’s heart. She glanced at the clock as she simultaneously swept a brush across her cheekbones, leaving a trail of arrogant shimmer.

5 o’clock.

Her eyes, now relaxed, fell upon her face. She lifted her hands up to her cheeks, her fingers tugging with a gentle persuasion at her skin. It was a futile attempt to smoothen out the various creases that had formed over the last few years. She had wondered where, when and how the lines had crept up, wondered whether they were demons of accumulated stress or scars of surreptitious smiles, wondered whether she could have done anything to avoid them- whether she could do anything to stop them.

“15 MINUTES LOVE” a voice boomed from the room next door.

Snapped out of her resentful trance she diverted her attention to her hair; an asset age hadn’t managed to claim. She caught a glimpse of Serena entering the room behind her, cuing her to finish up, and prompting feelings of jealous detest. Serena who was unaware of the feelings she harboured, smiled respectfully- she smiled back dutifully.

However now rushed, she added the finishing touches to her hair; a sprinkle of glitter and a generous amount of hairspray. She pushed a bouquet of feather boa’s aside and set down her curling iron. It was time.

5:30 am.

She emerged through the colored plastic beads onto the stage. The epileptic lights beat harshly against her bright makeup, a comatic combination for the exhilarated men in the room. She lived for this moment- The feeling of having control over every soul in the room was orgasmic. But when she danced, it was even better. She knew the people watching weren’t themselves anymore- she knew they were in a lucid state, completely and utterly enthralled in her, their minds vacuous stores, ready to be filled with every move she made. Although she was the one in garments that left nothing to the imagination, the people watching her were the ones exposed.

5:50 am.

She had their souls… They were hers to take and Anong had always said that a person who attained souls was wealthier than a person who attained capital.

Inebriated with her own grace, she made sure she never made eye contact with anyone; that was the most common mistake. Direct contact was harmful but inevitably, without fail, it happened…  Although their attention was intoxicating, eventually, an excess of anything becomes unendurable, intolerable… poisonous.

In this case their poisonous glances induced disgust. Her command over drooling dogs no longer held its appeal and that, was the result of tasting the forbidden fruit.

Holding her surreptitious gaze she slid down the pole.

6:00 am.

Carrying an un-communicated sombre aura she retreated into the containment of the beads. Todays performance had drained her soul entirely. She could not revitalize herself with the usual dose of a content audience – today their whistles sounded more like the cries of hungry mongrels.

But, as if they had heard her silent flee, the intrusive cheers drooled through the beads as an inescapable voice reverberated from the stage finding its way to her hesitantly welcoming ears- “Another round of applause, you bastards for the Queen herself… Our very own, Queen of Bangkok”.

‘Queen’. She cherished the words as she dressed up for her final act.

“Anurak! You’re home ! How was work today?… My god you look tired-  they need to stop calling you in for those night shifts. Why I should go down there and have a chat with your boss.Honestly, yours must be the first postoffice to get midnight influxes”

“Oh nothing… The usual- as you said- influx of packages, they needed me. No. Don’t worry your pretty little head Anong- I can handle it” he sneered back, planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

The final act had begun.

Stage 36: The girl in the clearing

She held her palms shut, revealing veins that ran like powerful rivers, diluting the fragility of her small hands. Her footsteps were heavy betraying the swift pace she maintained effortlessly- this could have been mistaken for her daily route if not for the sweat that ran down her tense body.

She avoided the branches flung at her by the whispering trees. They were passing around her secrets and did not attempt to hide this fact- their whispers were deafening. However she did not care for she was running now. Running somewhere unknown to her, in attempts to escape that awful world behind her.

She ran for what felt like hours, letting the sounds of the trees guide her, until she finally reached her destination. The forest opened its arms to reveal a sweeping carpet of green and gray. The floor was littered with stones of various shapes and sizes and at that moment she knew she was not at this clearing by mistake.

She located a rock that was suspiciously larger than the rest and rendered helpless she let her tired body carry her towards the inviting dull of the boulder.

She had run.

And now she was alone.

She perched herself precariously onto a ledge that protruded from the rock and finally let out a deep breath- with it she released all her worries, sorrows and regrets. For she had run and now she was alone.

And that’s when she realised; she had been led into the arms of what she was trying to escape.

Now that she was alone, there was nothing to shield her from that harsh darkness that resided within her. There could be no more excuses- it was her and her only.

She heard the deafening whispers again but this time they sounded different. This time they didn’t sound like whispers at all. No. She knew now.

Her emotions laughed at her mockingly, their sound cascading over the clearing in a thunderous clamour. They laughed for she had run. And now she was alone.

 

They laughed because she was theirs now.

Stage 34: The problem.

A middle aged wealthy Man sits in his 4BHk apartment in Mumbai watching the presidential elections on Fox news. ‘Ah’ he thinks to himself, ‘What a time it is to be alive… a woman contending to run the most powerful nation on the planet. Equality has truly been achieved’ he says as his son watches item songs in the next room.

The Man glancing at the grandfather clock, shouts for his evening tea. His wife realising the maid is attending her 10 year old daughter’s wedding in a nearby village, scurries to make the tea herself.

He switches channels mechanically as a girl in a neighboring building is being dragged into a room, her underwear ripped off and her genitals being “circumcised” to rid of her unnatural sexual urges.

The man impatiently inquires as to what is taking the tea so long, incessantly stating how late it is, as a woman down the street waits for her impending bus which carries a predator and his natural sexual urges.

Somewhere in another shanty town a boy dumps his books and ditches school to play cricket with his friends while his older sister prepares meals for her family, having giving up attempting to read the unfamiliar markings on her brother’s textbooks a long time ago. The man back in Mumbai finally receives his Chai; ‘Ah’ he exclaims, ‘you forgot the sugar’.



There is a problem in India. A serious one.

There are problems in India. Serious ones.

And the only reason they aren’t being recognised is the misconception that equality has been achieved. Comments like ‘ Hey, even the West hasn’t had a female president dude, but we have’ help people like me identify the problem; the problem lies within the fact that we compare our battle with the most popular one but in reality we are multitudes of phases behind them. In the West problems like the wage gap are addressed by feminists but in India we cannot simply skip over and address that same problem when most women aren’t even educated enough to do those jobs.

The problem lies within all of India; each religion, socioeconomic group, age, gender and occupation. However if the most educated, most privileged of those people fail to recognise it then how can we expect anyone else to.

featured image from http://www.dnaindia.com

Stage 33: Sleep venite ad me

Crap.

It’s those sleepless nights.

The hours that tick tick slowly by to greet the rays of the sun.

When youve had too much of a calm phase in life, hours like these are necessary to remind you. Remind you that there were moments like these too.

Where nothing is necessarily wrong in your life. Oh no, it is actually something wrong with the past that comes back to haunt you. To hover over you and remind you that there were moments like these too; moments where everything had been going to hell… where you thought you wouldnt live to see the calm.

A sudden halt on your dead-end rollercoaster.

Crap.

Where all emotions are snatched from you and replaced with burning, new, implacable ones.

Where there’s no room for the glorious miscommunication that usually goes on between your soul and your body.

Grasp at these moments because it doesn’t come with the risk of permanent emotional damage… just a slightly stinging sorrow.

It’s life’s gift to you. To help you rid of the monotony that comes with happiness. To encourage you to cherish contentment. To remind you that there used to be moments like these too; moments where the night just tick ticks by.

Stage 31 : Thank you, Sincerely I hate you

Dear Jerk(s),

I have taken it upon myself to write this letter to wholeheartedly thank you.

Yes i may at one point in my life, when my standards were apparently at their lowest, have wanted you, liked you, needed you. Maybe at one sad moment, I craved for your attention, your approval, your acceptance of me. But i swear to you with all the might that is left in me, I do not need it nor am I seeking it.

The word disillusioned was created for revelations like these. You’re hell-bent on bringing me down for some reason. I used to even bother asking questions, doubting myself, just to justify your actions. ‘What did i ever do to you’. It was a question that gnawed at me continuously. It was pathetic. Actually no wait you’re pathetic, I just care too much. My bad, I admit.

But now my attitude has changed. I ask myself a new question now; ‘Why am I letting you do this to me’. I can’t confidently answer that to this day but I can, however, change that interrogative into a declarative; ‘ I wont let you do this to me’. Okay enough of bullshit. I had enough of that when i was honored by your presence.

But listen. I mentioned that i wanted to Thank you and I really do! I did want to thank you, you amazing human you 🙂

Thank you for the pain you caused me. You know why? Because it made me write this post and countless others, it fueled my passion for creative (but rather depressing  pieces), It brought me my followers and it brought me my reader who is probably reading this thinking of their very own Jerk. They are quite abundant these days aren’t they? But most importantly it made me so much smarter. Yes. I won’t say stronger or happier because for now that isn’t true. For now.

But smarter. I feel like mentally, i could battle the amazon rain-forest. If someone could tolerate an insolence like you, how easy does everything else seem.

So very truly, Thank you.

Go love yourself.

Sardonically yours,

A person who’s moved on.



This is my personal letter to all the Jerks one faces in life. May it be ex’s, bullies or random trolls. They’re all the same and we can all get through it with a wee bit of patience and a whole lotta sarcasm.