The thing about staring into a void while standing in the light is that the void seems more threatening, like it’s coming right at you to get you.
I think it’s because of the comfort that being in the light gives you; the comfort of knowing what’s ahead and behind you.
It is because of this comfort that the void seems monstrous.
But what if there was no light to begin with?
What if all you had known was the dark- the void?
Would it still threaten you?
Or would you dive into it?
I’m standing on a mountain top.
Battling with the thoughts in my head.
Pushing them inside, trying to close the door of my mind.
I am tired of thinking, overthinking. I am tired of talking.
I want to be passive now. Let nature treat me.There’s a ship in front of me; in the ocean below this mountain.
How quiet it is here…
I can hear the sound of the engine of the ship, the sound of the white ripples that the ship is leaving behind in the blue waters, making it look like clouds in the dark blue ocean.
The captain is making an announcement. Maybe he is thanking the passengers for trusting him with their lives. Or maybe he is apologising for the delay caused by some glitch in the control room.
I hear glasses clanking. Maybe some sort of celebration; celebration of arriving at the anticipated destination, or celebration of beginning a new chapter in one’s life.
The ocean below me, the sky above me and the mountain which bears my weight, are all making me realise one thing- to look at the bigger picture.
My thoughts have stopped banging the door now.
They are at peace.
It was a typical weekday of September, with the sky at its bluest and the sun at its brightest.
Alice’s walk to the church blessed her with several beautiful sights.
(Someone said it right, “Safar khoobsurat hai manzil se bhi” – The journey is more beautiful than the destination.)
(What you just experienced was the death of the essence of that quote that got glorified in the translation.)
Simple sights like flowers falling from a gulmohar tree, marking the most dramatic exit,
the half a dozen kittens struggling to pin down their mother’s playful tail,
the homeless child singing a folklore while assorting her collectibles on the sidewalk.
“Is she really homeless though? Does home necessarily have to be a four-walled structure?”, thought Alice.
The church had its usual business going- people coming in and relieving themselves of their emotional and karmic burdens.
“It’s so difficult to be a God, with people coming in and asking for things from you or blaming you for the misery in their lives,” thought Alice.
Just as things were about to get existential, Alice caught the sight of a woman. It looked like she was in her 50’s. She was bowing in front of “God”, praying.
There was nothing unusual about what she was doing. But something did seem out of the normal. Maybe it was the woman herself, or maybe it was Alice’s perception of the woman.
She was slender, radiant and looked content. Why was she here then? Maybe she belongs to a different breed of people who come to God to simply thank Them for everything.
She had long hair, not that long though; the length suited her height and physique.
For a moment there Alice forgot about where she was.
That woman’s aura seemed more pure and captivating than the supposed divine entity above.
Alice allowed herself to slip into that moment where everything was bright, where everyday was a calm sunny day in September.
Alice saw and thought about what it would be like to kiss the woman.
(Didn’t see that coming right? Neither did Alice.)
In a part of Alice’s universe, they were already kissing. It felt good (and safe).
Like a sudden fall, something in Alice snapped.
“What are you doing? You can’t be thinking about these things here,” said Alice’s conscience.
“Ok, Jesus aside, didn’t all the other Gods procreate? Didn’t they indulge in what I was thinking about? I am born human with an innate sexual drive. It is nothing but natural, right?” reasoned Alice.
There was a brief moment of silence till the church bells rang.
Why expect when you know that it’s not going to be that way?
Why cry for whatâs never coming back?
Why back off when you know that it’s not going to work out without you?
Why be scared, for there’s nothing greater than you?
Why kneel to satisfy evil’s greed?
Why be bad when there’s so much good in you?
Why be silent when you have so much to say?
Why seek peace outside when there’s war inside?
I feel like an empty shore inside my head.
My thoughts are like the loud waves, gushing and clashing on the walls of my brain.
Do they want to come out?
It’s an empty shore above.
Quiet, yet noisy;
numb, yet surprisingly alive.
Can there be such a state?
The one with two extremes?
I think so, I think.
That’s part of the beauty of a human’s existence.
The amount and variety of things that we get to experience is unimaginable; it’s beautiful
(and scary at times).
The empty shore is as empty as the bottle of wine I had on December 20th.
The empty shore is as deserted as the icecream tub I had on the night when I decided to give up trying.
Tired of fixing things- within and around me.
“What’s the point?”, I thought.
“No one’s watching, I can give up. And rest.”
So I did.
Built a shack on the empty shore, and did what I wanted to do- Rest.
1. i think sometimes when you look at people in the eye just enough, you can almost see who they are even if you don’t know them
i dont know if i think its lovely or if im terrified of it
2. maybe i could be anyone. i don’t know who i am, maybe i am ever changing.
3. its so easy to be hard on yourself. (i could write a book about this)
4. why must people die
is it just to show us we are insignificant and nothing is in our control
its like listening to a beat that makes you dance but you can never hear it again.
finally finding someone that you love and losing them to death, oh what a broken heart you must have
what an irony, we try to control everything when we can die the next moment
if you knew you are gonna die tomorrow, what’d you do today? you should do that as much as you can. thats the only true thing that matters
5. oh, how insignificant are you with your assumptions about me, with the love you have for me that i dont need, with your rage and hate and disgust, with your ideas of me
oh how insignificant you are
6. i have been trying to get my heart broken since January of this year just to feel something
7. today i feel like how i felt when i was 15.
helpless.
8. if you stop loving someone because they hurt you, destroy you
was your love unconditional after all
9. this feeling of losing interest in someone who’s not good for you
how with every line they say that you used to adore makes you roll your eyes now
(part one link: https://mayurimakwana.wordpress.com/2018/03/04/thoughts/)
Lonely v/s Alone
It’s such a powerful and important distinction.
Having an awareness of this distinction is essential, I feel.
I experienced the power and impact of this distinction recently.
I was walking on the streets of Bandra one afternoon. I was on my way to grab a snack. I didn’t have company. I kind of wanted to be by myself, to have that time for myself.
I didn’t feel the need to listen to music while walking. Else, I’d generally prefer plugging in my airpods and listening to songs; partly to not let my presence on the road to appear “lonely” to the people around.
Have you ever done this? Put on music when you’re out alone, by yourself, just to appear that you are engaged in an activity? To not come out as a “loner”, as the word goes these days?
I have done that a couple of times in the past.
The fear of being judged- by strangers around me, the people I haven’t even come across in my life, and will probably never see them again- was bigger than my need to not listen to music and just simply walk around, unbothered.
That afternoon in Bandra, walking on those streets without music, I experienced freedom. Looking at churches, shops and traffic lights, I felt free and at ease. There was nothing extraordinary about these sights, but the plain act of me walking by myself, without any music changed everything.
It was so (fucking) simple.
It felt so (fucking) good to not think about other people’s opinions about my “lonely” ass walking around alone.
And speaking of, I did not feel lonely. I felt complete. And that felt right.
You see, spending time on ruminating about “what will people think of me if I do this?” will get you nowhere, and I am affirming this by experience.
There’s something cathartic about breaking the misconceptions that you have formed of yourself, and intentionally working towards perceiving yourself differently. Everything changes after that, trust me. And that’s one hell of an experience!
As always, I am late to the trend. This time for mason jars. I bought a mason jar a couple of days back. I stared at it for two days, wondering what I should put in it. I didn’t want to do the fairy light crap. I wanted to use it for drinking- what? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to use it for milkshakes or smoothies either (i wasn’t willing to clean the crap out of the jar, 100%).
Then, my very clever brain told me- why not use it for water? And I said heck yeah, why not.
I have been drinking water from my mason jar non-stop for the past few days. My water consumption has increased by 88% (no, I will not show you how I did the math).
Drinking from a water bottle? A bottle’s entire purpose is to hold water. What’s the fun in that? Drinking from a mason jar? WITH A STRAW? I could be drinking smoothies and iced tea in this. But I decided to drink something as simple as water. The special treatment I am giving to water, oh, I am treating that baby right.
Romanticizing something like drinking water gave me a healthy body, healthy skin, a healthy mind (I am no scientist but, I am sure there are other benefits too.)
I have learned if you romanticize the right things in your life- you will change your life. How? By increasing the likelihood of that good thing happening, just because it’s so fancy. I am no life coach and probably haven’t done half of what people do in their lives (or are supposed to do?). But if my lazy mind can come up with such an innovative idea, it’s safe to assume you can think of such simple ways to have a better life too.
I have never heard of a better deal than 79rs making me drink enough water every day. ( + more trips to the washroom = more steps đ )
Hi.
Of course, it is a normal piece of paper. Canât do anything too fancy (maybe later). I donât know if Iâve ever written you a letter. Maybe today I have missed you the most, maybe it was enough for me to sit and write. Missing you like I would miss a fresh splash of water on a sunny day, missing you like I would miss the cool breeze of air that makes a night walk perfect. Sorry, but when I write letters they ought to be romantic. I donât think letters are letters without their romance. I just realized that July is such a weird month. What even happens in July? Itâs right in the middle. No one remembers what happens in July. I am happy that I gave something (this letter) for you to remember (and for me too) this July of 2021. It makes me feel bitter how difficult it is to write about someone else, even if youâve known them for years, even if theyâve lived in your dreams and thoughts for a significant amount of time. How can we be so consumed with ourselves and everything around us that we give others no power to even be remembered deservedly? Anyway, turns out exercising does release a lot of the oh-so-fucking-good hormones. I wish I can make everyone exercise. Is it boring to read about someone elseâs thoughts in a letter addressed to you? I would have hated it. On that note, I really do miss you today. I think I am feeling really grateful for someone like you to be a part of my life. It is like having a bench only to ourselves in the middle of an apocalypse. Buildings are burning, there is no hope for tomorrow, people are killing each other, there is a stench of malice in the air- but somehow, none of this reaches our little bench. Itâs just you and me smoking a nicotine-free cigarette and laughing at existential jokes- mostly made by you, youâre good at that. Well, I guess what I mean to say is, I love you.
Ari: Why do birds exist, anyway?
Dante: Birds exist to teach us things about the sky.
If we studied birds, maybe we could learn to be free.
What is it about birds that makes us think of freedom?
Is it the act of them flying in a colossal open canvas?
Or is it their ability to decide for themselves if they want to fly with or against the wind?
To me, itâs just their way of existing.
Is it their purpose? I donât really know.
I donât know what to call it.
But I think the reason why we perceive it, rather associate their way of living to freedom is because of the seemingly uninterrupted time they have up there.
And yes, the idea of flying is very eternal and soulful.
Itâs actually a power that a lot of people want to possess;
I, being one of them.
PS- The dialogue above is an excerpt from the book âAristotle and Dante discover the Secrets of the Universeâ by Benjamin Alire SĂĄenz.
Breaking The 4th Wall 