A four letter word, but enough to emotionally shatter a person or an entire family. Planning for an entire life together, and all it takes is a small non-threatening lump in the lungs to destroy that. They say smoking is bad for health. They say smoking causes cancer in lungs. He never smoked his entire life. That guy in a train in Orissa was looking forward to starting a new life. He never made it to the new city. We call ourselves the rulers of this world, guess it is really not us. They say humans have got an evolutionary gift, I think it is a curse. The curse of intelligence, that makes us the weakest link ever formed in terms of survival rate. Well, we did defeat the rest of the species in terms of numbers which is the one and the only reason we still “rule” this planet. To hell with intelligence, that is also creating special weapons to destroy us.
To top it all of, the systems we created ourselves, wrote thousands of lines of instructions to ultimately not work as we wanted them to. #bug #lifeofadeveloper
So, it leads me to believe that what we created was ghosts in the machine. Random segments of code, that have grouped together to form unexpected protocols. Unanticipated, these free radicals engender questions of free will, creativity, and even the nature of what we might call the soul.[quoted from a movie I,Robot] But, we can see that happening in real life via various AIs. So, what we coded might actually be the end of us.
It is the time we really “evolve” in terms of superiority as a species, safeguard ourselves against diseases and other random threats using that supposedly useful brains of ours.
It was merely a coincidence that out of one of the million sperms that got released that day, one of them made you. My dad would never be an engineer today, if not for a random guy in his club insulting his intellectual abilities. My mom and dad would never have gotten married if not for my mom wearing a random tikka which she seldom wore in a random event. I would never have met the love of my life, if not for a random college with a roll number system in a random lab grouping us in random groups. Woah! Lots of random there. Have you ever imagined what your life would be like if one of those random things never happened? Life is just a set of coincidences. It is about making most out of it. The only things you can control in your life are the choices you make, when life throws one at you.
Some call it an addiction, some call it love, and some say that it is a fucked up set of feelings which has somehow got the master switch to control you. It hurts, hurts so bad that can make a cold-hearted bitch shed tears. The pain is intense, as much as 21 Guns shooting your heart. Then just when you think you are strong enough to deal with everything that comes along, a picture in the folder at the corner of your cloud storage is all it takes to take you at the barrel of the gun again. The name popping up in the dialer is all it takes to form that lump on your throat. Suffocating you with the sudden waves of emotion. Well, this goes on for pretty long time, till you get used to the pain.
Now, if you are really patient enough with yourself, you are whole enough to enjoy a beautiful sunset. And, that is when you take shelter, shelter from your feelings, shelter from your past. You are scared to lose your sanity again, and you are scared to suffocate alone in the shelter. And, while swimming in these waves you realize that it has taken you back to the start. That, my friend, is how anybody ever gets addicted to anything.
Then, you learn to not let go, but be at peace with the highs and lows of your own messy self. Time doesn’t heal you, it just teaches you that.
People say I am fire. Some say I am Hitler. Some say I am fiery grilled chicken. Well, I say I am just a person who is free enough to have her own views. And if you cannot convince me with your views, I am not pushover enough to shove your view down my throat. And I will put my own views forward on why I have them. If you are not convinced, to hell with that. I don’t really mind that.
Maybe having a set of boobs has made the difference, maybe I am not supposed to be arrogant enough to stand up for what I believe. I would be a hypocrite if I said that it doesn’t bother me entirely. But when the people who know me in the best way, raise questions on my character and they are the people I actually care about, it becomes quite a herculean task to take the criticisms positively.
When people you love find you impossible to bear with, it raises a sense of self-doubt that I am not particularly happy about. When people you have never intended to hurt get hurt, that is when this freedom becomes a burden.
Then I keep wondering, how do I make myself better. The only way is to lose the faith in me that I have since I was a kid, and become someone else. I can never let that happen.
What if I had not prepared for that exam that seemed so important that I said no to life. That I said no to my teenage years and early adulthood. What if I had given a little more effort in the person I wanted to be with. What if I had spent some more time with my loved ones whom I feel like I had abandoned.
What happens when you keep wondering about so many what if’s? Your present becomes a rewind play of your past. You keep looping into that infinite possibilities of what could you be today IF something had happened or something had never happened.
I now have learnt to believe that, whatever wrongs and rights I did in my life, that I was the best I could do at that point. Because sometimes in that dark lonely night, it is enough if you are just able to save yourself from your destructive thoughts.
And, also because if you keep thinking about everything, instead of living your life, it won’t be long before you will be wondering what if I had done something about it, while lying there on our deathbed with a gleaming white light entering through a nearby window, making you realize how not important were those issues you fought for, and how important were those things that you gave up on that easily.
At 6, didn’t believe in fairytales, or ghosts.
At 26, looking at the emptied ice cream box with a spoon dipped, she knew her lover never left her.
Started believing in fairytales again.
What do you do when your headache doesn’t go away? When that thought in your mind doesn’t leave you ever? You try walking around the swimming pool, you try breathing exercises, but nothing works. The puzzles and questions of what ifs and tomorrow, biting your brain to the last bit. You spend a part of your processing power fighting it, trying to understand it. But then, it exhausts you so much that you want to give up fighting altogether. The crippling insecurities making you numb at times. I don’t really know why I am rambling, though. All I can say is that giving up is your choice. You can or cannot do that. No one really cares about that. My memory is something I hate, it remembers stuff I don’t want to remember and forgets stuff I want to have a memory of.
So, all you can do when this happens is have a sleeping pill and sleep like a baby, preferably cuddling a cat.