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Emptiness

And here she was, staring at her reflection of her once regal self. If she thought her life would be here, five years ago, she would have ridiculed the thought. Now that the gambit has been thrown, she could not help but feel as a failure, of being useless. Life, while never being perfectly synchronized to the tunes of one’s desires, sure as hell cannot throw a curve ball so far off the tangent, that she not only missed it, but also was completely bowled over in a way that had her hurting in ways that could not be put in words. Love, the bane of very existence, the boon of very existence, in its twisted form, raised its mocking head, to snap her backbone in the most painless way possible. The drug did not just take her spine out, it took her will. It deformed her, slowly. And now, when she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw nothing - not even a reflection of her self, not a shadow of her soul and certainly not even a reflection of solidity in front of it. For all she could see...
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Ah! Irony?!

There are a lot of things going on in my head right now. All this resentment at being chained is growing in me, to the extent where it threatens to consume me. When things are fine, all these feelings are in a back burner, but at the slightest ripple, all these feelings surface, as a bubbling tornado and every time its as though they never went away. I can feel the blood rumbling, I can feel my eyes threatening to overflow, I can feel the anger in me ready to engulf everything around me. Yet, yet, I need to hold everything in. Life has to be simple, yet we complicate it, with people we surround ourselves with. I mean, even if we live on an island, we cannot really escape people, can we? Family, friends, relations, strangers - all are people, ready to pounce on us, rub their emotions on us and basically just willing to complicate our life. We cannot shut them out, nor can we let them in. Ask, talk, feel, shout, scream, wallow, cry - how many emotions and for what? Who gives a f**k about...

Is that too much to ask?

.... I want to scream at the top of my lungs, just scream until my voice goes hoarse. I want to keep running until every breath I take feels like the last one. I feel like a rebel. I want to challenge my own convictions of life, my own principles. What good are they, when they do not help me navigate through my life, in some semblance of peace? What good are they, if I feel lost in the chasm of misery? While the logical part of my brain, quite literally tells me to shut up and move on, the illogical heart keeps weeping at a loss that I could not control. While part of me consoles, part of me wants to rip my heart and stomp on it for not fathoming the unfathomable. And I think that part finally succeeded! I stare at what feels like a million pieces of my heart on the floor. I could quite literally hear it shatter. I stumble for words, I scramble for words, yet, nothing can explain what is going on in my head, when processing what is in front of me. I try to focus, move from one point to...

True reflection

These thoughts, I ask of them to just let me be. They push and probe, they pull and hold. I try to ponder on these incessant thoughts running through my mind. When I prod them long enough, I am caught staring at myself, in a room full of mirrors that show me a myriad of my reflections. Where am I? I try to find the real me, the reflection that should be me. But alas, I realize, I am seeing the different me, that each thought of mine portrays. Which thought is true? Which is false? In the search for my reflection, I study each of them, to help me understand - the cause behind them. Some thoughts, I say, are difficult to fathom. They rage maddeningly, whirling through a sandstorm, spiraling me out of control and when realization hits, that I am caught in a spiral, I force myself to calm down, to be still. In this constant struggle to be me and to be some version of me, I see myself losing the plot, becoming a chameleon that I don't want to be. I am still searching, still probing. Ho...

Witnessing the Blackswan

Aye! I did! I surely did! Metaphorically, at least! It took me a while to process it, embrace it and perhaps form an explanation about it. Wimbledon 2016 semi-finals between mortal and God seemed to have shocked the expectations of every one, particularly since the said mortal was ordinary in the finals. So, having seen God losing the plot when he served a double fault, yeah! I have to say, I saw the unpredictable, unforeseen, unimaginable event in the history of said God and that is such a rare and freak occurrence, that it compelled me to say that I have seen a black swan! I thought Roger Federer will cruise to the title. But that did not happen. He is quickly losing his God Persona, but tennis has become more fun now. Watching him play and toy and raise the bar beyond the opponents comprehension when needed, made him the God of Tennis. And now, these youngsters are envisioning his play and matching his greatness with grit, yet he still seemed to have something up his sleeve, u...

Goodbye Granma!!

March 19, 2016. There are moments in life where logic has no meaning. And one such moments is death, the absolute certainty of it and the finality of it. Gran ma passed away on March 19, 2016. And when I heard the news, the despair was all consuming. At that point, it was not about coping or standing strong, it was about mourning the loss of a person who had a significant impact on my life.  Right at this moment, twelve days after her demise, I am not really sure if I processed the pain. I feel a bit numb, with my brain functioning on and off. I keep going back to seeing her in the ice box, the look of peace on her face, one I had not seen, even in her sleep in as long as I remember. Death has finally given her peace, that which eluded her for quite sometime. While she rests in peace, her loved ones are dangling between relief and sorrow. One moment, it is a relief that her suffering is done and the other moment, is about questioning the sanity of that thought. The first coup...

Wimbledon 2015 - Men's final

Novak Djokovic, the defending champion beats Roger Federer 7-6, 6-7, 6-4, 6-3, and slams his dream of eighth Wimbledon title to grass (pun intended). What a match it was? Watching Novak play was absolutely thrilling. And watching Federer, it looked like even God tends to bow to mortals once in a while. But, seriously, how good was Novak? Roger Federer, in this Wimbledon has not been his usual self. His backhands have found the nets more often than not, his aces were not as recurrent as they once were and though he volleyed quite a lot, his lazy elegance was not as eloquent as it once had been. Yet, he still conquered the court and stole people’s heart. His semifinals win against Andy Murray was vintage Federer. If people had their say on the Centre Court, for the final, the match would have gone well into the fifth set with Federer claiming his eighth Wimbledon title. But alas, Novak Djokovic ruled the court! He played aggressively, not budging an inch and his base line play was fe...