I started receiving it even before I knew what it meant.
I remember how Pappa helped me mount the bicycle while holding the back of the seat and kept his grasp tight till I balanced and started pedalling rhythmically. They say you can’t learn bicycling without scraping your knees, but I did, because support.
Maa taught me how to hold a pencil and then move it on a blank paper, upwards, downwards, sidewards, in all the directions, in the required ways, to draw the sun, it’s rays, the moon, a hut, a boat, coconut trees and different types of ice-creams. They say you can’t draw something without using eraser atleast a few times, but I did, because support.
I held my friend’s hand when he was falling in the dark abyss, in the ocean of regrets and grief; I hugged another tight when she was about to break into tears in the middle of our conversation in a cafe. Where I filed their lives with fragrance of curds rice, lingering taste of a freshly baked cake, lights of hope, and strength of belief, they always carried me warmly in their arms of love and trust. They say you can’t have the best of your friends without a broken heart and shattered faith, but we did, because support.
I’ve seen trees stand tall through a thick storm, and little seeds sprout from neath the giant rocks. I’ve seen tortoises hibernating without any hindrances, and waves crashing upon the shore before returning home. I’ve seen the moon unfailing completing her cycle every month, and the sun silently carrying her through all the phases. They say that the sun is conceited, and the wind that lifts the kite and helps it soar high is full of herself, and that the humans are mean and the acts of love and kindness are hollow but I don’t believe them, because support.
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Have you ever considered not feeling so sorry about yourself? /
I know, at some point in your life, even you’d have asked yourself the same question. Afterall, it isn’t easy to be so hard to yourself for things both big and small, because if big, what more could you even do? I mean you can’t move a mountain out of your way, all that you can do is learn to climb, be at peace with yourself if and if not you’ve reached at the peak, and then look at the other side for a newer experience. And if small, is it even worth to be sorry? I mean, okay again, little things matter, but how else do you build bridge across this life if not by accumulating and arranging the little and not-so-little stones of your mistakes, of your failures, of your despair and loneliness?
Sorries often feel like they’ll kill you, or you’ll kill your self; either way it is not easy to walk through the moment with them burdening your being, your existence. And then, not a single day goes by without you wondering what you could’ve done differently?
I tell you, you could’ve stopped feeling so sorry about yourself. You could’ve stopped crying for meeting up yours or absolutely anyone’s expectations from yourself. You could’ve cleaned your floor full of splintered glass before trudging. Out of all the people in the world, you could’ve chosen yourself. And the bravest of all, you could’ve gathered energy for self-acceptance, for all the unsettling feelings because rocks are parts of mountain, waves of ocean, and damage of transformation. So, are you now determined to stop feeling so sorry about yourself?
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This is a poem about my hopes for you/
On the days with sunless sullen skies I hope the light finds you in the ways that are both ordinary and special because you deserve to be touched not only on your face and chest, but also till the last corners of your chasmic soul.
I hope the hope comes running to you, dressed in your favourite color, right where you’re standing feeling lost, feeling desperate, and holds your hand as gently as a father holds that of his toddler and walks you home for your favourite supper.
I hope the luck blooms in your garden, like magic, multiplying itself with each passing second, you know like those trees and plants in the animated stories, sprouting baby leaves and producing fully grown flowers and within a few blinks, you’ve a paradise awaiting you because don’t they say that it takes just a second for the fate to change?!
I hope the contentment awaits you at the end of each day irrespective of how lucid or dull, how happy or sad or stressed, how empty or filled it was, just like your mother’s lap, or your lover’s, your spouse’s, your father’s, your brother’s, your friend’s, sits in wait for you because at the end of the day all they want to do is caress your hair, listen about the hours you were away, water your dreams and throw away all the weeds, and make sure you feel nourished enough for the next sun.
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Some cotton for your wounds
Wounds that are invisible,
Wounds that still bleed neath your skin,
Wounds that you’re tired of looking after,
Wounds you want to stop remembering,
Wounds upon your mind, upon your heart and soul,
Wounds no thing, no person can console.
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But I’d pull you in/
Well, you might have heard people talk about push often. You know, the push that they want, they need, to do or not to do something.
But I’d never push you. This isn’t how I’d support you, this isn’t how I’d love you. Rather, I’d pull you in.
On the days you want to put down that cigarette but can’t, I’d pull you in and kiss. On the days your mind pours unpleasant memories and thoughts and you’re looking for a shelter, I’d pull you in my arms. On the days you feel lonely and depressed, I’d pull you in the bed and love you till the next sun rises. On the days you can’t bring together your energies to work on your dreams, I’d pull together all the reasons why you started at the first place and fill you with them, again.
On the days insecurities and fears cling tight all over your body, I’d pull down your clothes and pluck them out, one at a time. On the days you can’t seem to contain your feelings and emotions, whether happy or sad, I’d pull the drapes and with your hands in mine, would listen till the last word is said.
Sweetheart, I’d never push you, for absolutely anything and I won’t let go of you, for absolutely anything because they say that humans get better when they receive love and support, and I want us to get better together, better than yesteryear, better than yesterday, while immersing deeply into each other, while unfolding bravely in front of each other, while pulling each other in so intimately that our warmth thus can melt the moon into silver and the sun into gold.
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Be gentle today. Don’t hasten. Like a soft rain, that falls upon the earth in zillion tiny water drops yet is never in hurry to empty the clouds.
Touch yourself, your cheeks, fingers, chest, arms and toes, till you’ve appreciated your body, and then take a plunge, deep inside you. Amidst this welter of conflicting emotions, please winnow out your truth, your worth, your purpose. Remind yourself that you’re a human, and hence, it’s okay to be erroneous but not ignorant and arrogant. Gather your strengths, wash all the dust off, lather yourself languidly, take that long shower, let the doubts, fears, and insecurities walk out, open the windows, let the cold breeze sweep inside, forgive yourself for not fulfilling your exaggerated expectations, play your favourite songs, spritz that perfume, remind yourself how brave and wise you’ve been through all the seasons, and breathe, one breath at a time, don’t hurry, breathe and sway in joy, like the tree in the rain, till your each vein feels fresh, each corner clean, each thought sanguine, and your drenched inside is blooming into the self you dream.
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All kinds of things, big and small, can make you love a person, can make you love yourself for loving that person. You know when a wind blows and each leaf of the tree feels joy, that’s how you feel in their presence. There’s something about the way they guard your dreams on the days you can’t seem to believe in them, anymore. And the way they brew your coffee puts you in the dilemma if it’s the coffee that you desire at the moment or them. You start knowing the aisles of your mind more regardless of the fact that you’ve constructed them all these years and you start knowing your body as how you’d like to be touched, held, and sucked. They never fail to convince you that whatever you’re doing or want to do, you’re capable of it and even if somehow it went wrong, with them you can get past it. Even if to love is to risk your heart, they make it feel lifeworthy. You get to know that love wouldn’t mean anything if you couldn’t depend upon each other, for things both small and big. And that itself is both a small and big thing, knowing that there’s someone who will never abandon you, who will always love you and would keep you falling in love with them and yourself, again and again, each day, everyday.
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When dust accompanies the wind, it reaches the boundless skies, high and free, each particle breathing and traveling through the path calmly whilst relishing each moment of the journey but when the same dust chums up with the water, it turns into mud, wet and sticky, slobbing around on the earth while the vehicles and shoes squashes it and spends the life choking and grappling with it’s own particles for freedom. You see, how ginormous the difference is?! Companionship matters. Henceforth, choose wisely.
Settle for the eyes that stir your heart the way sunset stirs the sky.
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