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, it could have been an endless abyss. How was she supposed to move past this emptiness?

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 why we feel any of those feelings? Every one is in their own rat race, ready to climb up or down, ready to push us up or down or sideways. Its easy to pretend that its a beautiful summer morning after a long winter, ignoring the heat, yet its there, melting the ice in and around us.

Who defined these rules anyway? That we need a shoulder to lean on? That we need someone to trust? That we need happiness in life? That we cannot hold our tears in? That we should not make decisions when we are angry? That we should succumb to an apology? That sorry makes things alright? That smile makes everything better? That laughter is a medicine? Non sense! we are alone to fight our own battles, our own demons, that we alone must fight to win or to lose. No one, not mother nor father nor partner nor kids will share with us, this journey we call our life and that is the irony of our societal rules. We live with parents, with siblings, with family, with kids, yet, every time we turn around to seek comfort, we inevitably find ourselves alone. Yet, we need to rush for a relations need, that we miss our family when they are ten minutes away and we miss being us, when we sit in solitude. Why the hell do we force ourselves to feel for these emotions when they are not what we want to feel? Why?

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 another, to choose to engage myself with activities, that once held some meaning to me, yet, I know, deep down, that this is a charade I play, for everyone to leave me alone. Deep down, somewhere, in the recesses of my heart, there is an ache that has no balm. The sense of loss, the longing, the anger, the shame, the guilt - all these emotions that are running through me, make me pause and reflect on life. For now, my life seems to drift apart, like a kite with no string, drifting through the wind, waiting to just be tangled and torn. I am a spectator, watching it, with pain and sadness. Neither can help me now. What I need is some semblance of peace and challenge. What I want is to turn back the time  to when I was 20 years younger, with no care or concern or forward to another 20 years, where I look the age I feel and just wait for the last breath that shall leave my body. I am OK with either one.

There are moments in life, when it throws a gauntlet at you, to see if you can sustain the pressure of the battle. There is no guarantee of a win, just the maturity that comes with the fight. Neither is a guarantee of a loss, it just comes down to hanging by the skin of your teeth. Everyone gets fucked in life, right? So, what do I do? Take the easy way - shut down everyone and everything, move like a zombie? Or, fight to survive, fight through the murk that is drowning me? Engage or Disengage? I am a fighter, despite the moments of despair that strongly urge me to close myself off. Yet, some part in me, refuses to succumb and accept that MY life is defined by societal norms or convictions. Some part of me wants to ask, is my life  only defined by being a daughter, wife and mother? Can't it be anything more? I don't  know. I am torn between a gilded cage and carefree life. I want to be free, of this never ending expectations of me. I want to have some space to be my own person, to feel that I am important as being me, not as some version perceived by everyone, known and unknown. Is that too much to ask?

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. Hopefully, some day, I can see the true reflection of me....

Brain Krans in his 'A Constant Suicide'  says:

"All I know is that I have no idea where I am right now. I feel like I am in training for something, making progress with every step I take. I fear standing still. It is my greatest weakness.

I talk big, but often don't follow through. That's my biggest problem. I don't even know what to think right now. It's about time I start to take a jump. Fuck starting to take. Just jump-over everything. Leap.

It's time to be aggressive. You've started to speak your mind, now keep going with it, but not with the intention of sparking controversy or picking a germane fight. Get your gloves on, it's time for rebirth. There IS no room for the nice guys in the history books.

THIS IS THE START OF A REVOLUTION. THE REVOLUTION IS YOUR LIFE. THE GOAL IS IMMORTALITY. LET'S LIVE, BABY. LET'S FEEL ALIVE AT ALL TIMES. TAKE NO PRISONERS. HOLD NO SOUL UNACCOUNTABLE, ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR OWN. IF SOMETHING DOESN'T HAPPEN, IT'S YOUR FAULT.

Make this moment your reckoning. Your head has been held under water for too long and now it is time to rise up and take your first true breath.

Do everything with exact calculation, nothing without meaning. Do not make careful your words, but make no excuses for what you say. Fuck em' all. Set a goal for everyday and never be tired."

Seems apt, for the state of my mind!!

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, until recently. Now, the tricks seem to have gotten a little old.

Raonic played brilliant tennis. He was positive, pushed Federer all over the court, had awesome second serve and finally, just believed he could win. It showed in the game. Federer, on the other hand, seemed to struggle to find the right gear for the match.

I enjoyed the hither-tither of the ball all over the court, particularly Federer’s returns and Raonic placements. For a moment there, I was just enjoying the game. Is that not what sport is supposed to do? To help you enjoy the battle of stalwarts, stepping up their game with every shot and like the fierce warriors they are, never giving up and toiling on, putting up a performance that is laudable even for an amateur sports buff. And they gave that in plenty to me. But, in the fourth set, Federer did the unthinkable. I was thinking this would go to a tie break, both holding their respective serves. But Federer and double fault – two words as unlikely an event as him not winning a single game in a match and it all ended there, for me.

Post-match, my husband and I were arguing, his prediction that Raonic looks more positive irked me to enough to banish him from the living room. In hindsight, I should have saved my heartache and just watched something else, but then, I would have missed the metaphorical Black Swan! I hope I won’t have to watch another!!