Escaping Life...

A friend once asked me if I think I'll ever find my happily ever-after. Without thinking I said no, maybe not. I am such a miserable soul I said, I am always pining after something, sulking, brooding. I wonder if I'll ever be happy.

I have been thinking about it. As the 27th inches closer, I have been thinking about a lot of things. These days what gives me a fright is that very thought of happiness. Will I ever be in that place where I'll be happy? Where I can feel my soul satisfied? I am not satisfied. Something's missing, a lot many things actually. I want them all. I wonder if I'll ever get them. Am I being greedy? No. I just do not want to settle.

And deep down, I believe, or atleast want to, that I'll find it. The elusive pot at the end of the rainbow. Somewhere, something tells me I'll find my own slice of inner peace. Maybe it's that bottomless well of optimism that's pushing me through. Maybe I really will. I don't know.

For now, I think I am going to believe that I will. Maybe if I believe, I really will. 

Naina...

To know there is a person who knows everything about you. Who knows your deepest fears, the pain that was born in the dark and never saw light...till now, who knows your crushed dreams...to feel such lightness...weightlessness...

Like the tumour that had been growing in you, has been cut, removed.

To give your hurt, your fears, your broken dreams-a voice. To thread them into words and to have them turned into a garland of sweet-smelling flowers, by a gentle hand, a loving soul...like walking into bright sunshine.

A Dying Girl...

There's no electricity at home. Didn't go to work. I am sitting on my bed, in an airless room, with Latika's theme playing on my laptop. Inverter gave up. But it's not so hot in here. But everything seems still. Even the breath I exhale seems to hang in the air much like the heavy gold-beige curtains in my room. I've shut the windows, essentially, to keep the heat out. But the dark, reflective film covered window panes cut out light and noise both. I feel alone and cut off from the world. And then suddenly, I am transported back to 2009. My train journey from London to Glasgow and then Glasgow to Aberdeen. I find myself by the window, in an A/C car, in a foreign country, and fields after green fields pass by me. Then a salty, frothy cold sea. Grey clouds. Sheep. Little houses.

I feel again the feeling of independence. A sense of achievement brings a smile. The feeling of being burdened drowns in the sea. All my worries melt. The feeling of being in love bobs on the sea of memories. I feel a bit sad now. I wonder if I'll ever feel love again.

That. That time. Those precious hours. That was pure unadulterated happiness I realise.

Every time I think of happiness, I think of a happy green grassy field. A huge field with a beautiful sky above. And I see myself running in the field (not the DDLJ type). But I am not a grown up in this picture. I am a girl dressed in a red frock. Sometimes it's a white long dress. With ribbons in my hair. And I am free. Unrestrained. That's my definition of happiness.

I think that image must say a lot about me. But I don't know what.

I am craving monsoons. Rains, I am missing you. Come.

Right at this minute, I feel age slip by. Time. It will never be back. It's an intense feeling. I wish I was a writer enough to put it in right words. It's a hard realisation. I want to run away from it, but I let it weigh down on me like a lover instead, I feel its every cell and every pore, so I can memorize its every detail. I am scared that I will not have more of those happy moments. The happiness I felt in that train. I can see life slip from my hands, much like sand in an hour glass. It's an desperate feeling. But I can't do much. It's an helpless feeling.

I want to run in that green grassy field with ribbons in my hair.

I want to feel raindrops slide down my cheeks.

I am craving happiness.

But at the same time, there's this feeling that something is about to happen. Something big. Something important.

I wait.

But does fate care enough?

I have an email in my inbox.