Don’t Ask an Anxious Mind Why it’s Anxious.

It’s the same old thing every single day
You wake up to screams in your head
Flashes of car crashes and blinking lights
A pulse rate going down
But your heart beat going up
You feel it in your chest
You feel it in your bones
You feel it bursting through your soul
It’s like you’re thinking about things unforeseen
Things that don’t matter, things that don’t make sense
Still you see that body bag: black, grey, red
And you wonder how did you end up here
How did you make this mess

A pool of sweat wakes you up
And you check your phone to see if everything’s okay
How do you trust that piece of metal
When you can’t trust your own subconscious
It’s 3 a.m. now so go back to sleep
Forget about these voices that beg for your help
But you know you can’t do that
You know you’re going to stay up
Worrying, over-thinking, crying
About things that are so trivial, so shallow
But you can’t help it
Don’t ask an anxious mind why it’s anxious

You’re transported to that day so long ago
When someone called you a name
A name that took over your identity
You fought the pain, you laughed it away
Why
Why didn’t you stand up and say you’re better than this
Why didn’t you tell yourself not to move on
To stay put and make a scene
Instead, you’re making a scene now
So you wipe away the tears and go back to sleep

Don’t worry about that other day when you felt so lonely
When all the demons in your head warred against the angels
And won
And you let them win
You rooted for them
Why
Why did you tell yourself that it was okay to be the only one there for you
Why did you find happiness in being alone
To see it as a sign of strength
To be proud of yourself for surviving
Survival, huh
That thing that everyone seems to do so effortlessly
That same thing that everyone does without sleepless nights
And countless self-induced heartbreaks
By holding candles as sources of hope
Not as heat that burns your soul
Melts it
And turns it into a mould of wax
Because that’s what you are
A moulded figure that only fits
Always brimming but never overflowing
Always there but somehow invisible
Like your mind right now
That’s getting so fogged and translucent

You stop thinking because you can’t breathe
You feel your body squeezed by your thoughts
As you try to think about happy things
It doesn’t help
You close your eyes because you know that’s the only escape
The darkness gives you solace
You’re tired now so you shut your mind down
As you ask it “Why me?”
And it slyly replies
Don’t ask an anxious mind why it’s anxious.

Undone

If I could be the ocean,
I don’t think I would be blue.
And if I could be a fragment of soil,
I probably wouldn’t produce.

If the sun didn’t rise
Or the flowers didn’t bloom
I would say “Oh, well”
For now I’ve summoned
A gush of remorse
Which I don’t think can be undone.

I’ve tried to give in
Or rather, give up
But this darkness clings to me.
For now I’ve blown out
A Candle
And my skin burns with wax.

On and on,
Like tides high and low
I feel the rise and fall.
For I can only recount
The illusion behind it all
And it cannot be
Undone.

 

I Weigh You.

She came to me day after day
And showed me her two bare feet
She searched for validation
And blamed me for her flaws.

Her time with me was absurd
As she cried and yelled vehemently
She sucked her stomach and turned her back
All until the next day.

My saying was her cyanideWeigh
She swallowed it outright and veritable
It burnt her vacant frame
But she craved this distinct pain.

To her, it was all a number game
A series of substandard loss and gain
She found the loss enthralling
But the gain highly unworthy.

I could tell she was restricted
She was chained by her own image
She was forced to swallow her imperfection
In this world where zero means infinite.

She was constantly pressurized
To make me point left at all times
Her hunger for my approval
Turned into her very own suicide note.

I don’t see her anymore
I fail to understand what happened
She’s probably afraid of me now
Or her chains tightened even more.

If only she knew that her tears weighed the most.

The Senses of Nature

I feel the kiss of mist
Seeping through my skindownload
Bringing out the believer in me
Knowing not what it did.

I hear the swishing crash of a wave
Alarming every corner of me
Taking me away with it
Knowing not what it did. images

I smell the perfume of a gentle rose
Numbing my heart
Filling me with a sense of ecstasy
Knowing not what it did.

I taste a syrupy toothsome honey
Stinging my tongue
Making me sway with joyimages (1)
Knowing not what it did.

I envy nature
For its transcendent aura
For its unparalleled power
To create and destroy.

I look around me images (2)
And I know for sure
That everything is nature’s gift
That everything is for rapture.

Daddy

There are some people in your life without whom your entire life feels worthless. You can’t make a single decision without consulting these people. You can’t take a step forward in life without looking back to see that these people are behind you. You can’t ever let go of these people. These are the people you love.

Most people do not recognize these people until they’re gone. They don’t realize their importance in their lives. These are the unfortunate ones.

Then there are the fortunate ones. The ones who know who they want in their life. I know that I belong to this category because of one person: my dad.

My dad, to me, is a complete weirdo. I probably sound like a hypocrite when I say this but, his ego and his attitude are the most annoying things in the world. The way he never gives up on an argument and can drag a conversation until no one cares are very irritating. His temper, oh lord! He gets angry for every tiny thing. He’s probably mad at me right now for staying up past my bed time to write this (Sorry daddy).

At the same time, he’s the most amazing man ever. He is the most influential person in my life. Without his stupid debates and lame jokes, god knows what I’d be. The way he pisses me off and messes with me is one of my favorite things. Don’t even get me started on our intellectual conversations. The amount of senseless wisdom that comes out of these conversations is irreplaceable. The way we can talk about anything from nuclear war to Balakrishna’s amazing punch lines as we fiddle with our food at the dinner table annoys my mom in a way I cannot explain in words (Ask her about those conversations and she won’t stop complaining about us).

I just wanted to say that my father, to me, is the best father in the world. Everything I achieved and will achieve is because of all the love and support he gives me. He is the wisest and most smart person I know. I may never buy him a Lambhorgini (I don’t even know how to spell it) or take him around the world but, I will always respect him and love him. I never say anything positive about him because I know he’ll use it against me someday. That’s why you’ve always seen me crib and complain about him. But, in reality, I cannot live without all those things that make me crib and complain about him.

Happy birthday, nanna. I love you. You’re best daddy in the entire universe. Thanks for always being there.

Forever and always,
Bhavi.

P.S. Again, sorry for staying up late. Please don’t ground me.
P.P.S. Yes. You did teach me Remainder Theorem and Factor Theorem. Happy?

Finest China

I have a vase
It’s made of the finest China.
I know not where I found it.
I know not what it means.
I know not what its absence would do to me.

I have a vase
It’s made of the finest China.
Its beauty is inexplicable.
Its existence enigmatic.
Its place in my heart an irrational question.

I have a vase
It’s made of the finest China.
I refuse to touch it with my tangible hands.
I refuse to let go of its transcendent state.
I refuse to let a dark eye ruin its legacy.

I have a vase
It’s made of the finest China.
It wants to be explored.
It wants to move ahead.
It wants to display its timeless aura across a wider spread.

I have a vase
It’s made of  the finest China.
It does not realize its mortality.
It does not realize its  pestilent stupidity.
It does not realize it shall shatter at fall.

I have a vase
It’s made of the finest China.
It irks me to let it fall out.
It kills me to watch it hurt.
It devastates me to ignore its loss.

I have a vase
It’s made of the  finest China.
I know it’s my selfishness that draws all the lines.
I know that my childish whims annoy.
I know that my foolishness is severe.

I have a vase
It’s made of the finest China.
Alas! I must enter the stage.
I must ignore my conscience.
I must try.

 

Crashing Waves

Sometimes you feel like you don’t belong somewhere. As though everything else is enormous but you alone microscopic. You feel like you’re not worthy enough to be standing there. Somehow, these feelings might have made you feel as though I’m talking about a very negative thing. And rightly so, these feelings are judged to mean very bad thoughts or experiences. Recently, in a raft ride at the Na Pali coast of Hawaii, I felt all those things. But the funny part is, I had the time of my life.

The Na Pali coast is a huge mountainous coast on the island of Kauai in Hawaii. Getting there by drive isn’t possible because one third of the island is not drivable and that so conveniently happens to be the Na Pali part of it.  Hence, the only way to get there was by boat. Although there were catamarans (sail boats), being the expert adventurers that my father and I are, we decided to take a bumpy and ‘you will TOTALLY get wet’ raft.

After about 45 minutes of a description guaranteed journey on the raft, we sighted dolphins. The dolphins weren’t as playful as the ones you might see in Sea World. They weren’t twirling around or anything. Just swimming and breathing. Bummer. Turns out ‘social animals’, like dolphins, are just animals that aren’t scared to be near you. They’re not animals that would come to you and say “Hey! How are you doin’?” or “I like your earrings.” Maybe that’s why humans are considered ‘social beings’.

Once the early morning sun had been replaced, rocky mountainous beaches replaced the sandy beaches. This wasn’t a very normal coastline because when I say ‘mountain’, I mean it quite literally. The mountains were towering high. One of the mountains, our guide tells me, is taller than the ‘Empire State Building’ in New York. As stunning as that mountain was, the sea caves created due to the friction between the waves and the mountains were even more unique. As our raft went into those caves, I was awestruck by the the illuminated Copper Sulphate Blue water, which happens to be my favorite color of ocean. The friction created so many other natural wonders like high arches, most of which looked like they had been carefully carved by the most skillful of people. Being the city girl I am, I have grown very disconnected with nature and its true self. Before, I thought of nature as a destructive being, capable of haunting things. How wrong I was. If not for those ‘haunting things’, I wouldn’t be writing this at my own convenience.

Later, we stopped at an inhabited ancient Hawaiian town on the coast and settled down for lunch followed by snorkeling. We toured the little town whose culture and history was very similar to many Asian countries. The ancient Hawaiians danced a sacred dance, prayed to gods based on their natural powers and weren’t discovered until a Westerner found them. Sound familiar? The only tragic difference being: their fate turned out to be different.

After lunch in that town, my mom, dad and I decided to go snorkeling. My parents don’t know how to swim, but they have to do everything, right? So, they were wearing all the snorkeling gear and standing by the raft, while I went actual snorkeling. A bit of an overstatement considering the fact that this was the first time I snorkeled. Now, floating over nearly 40 feet of water with wild fish might seem terrifying at first, but when you get the hang of it, you will not want to leave the water at all. I was one of the last four people to finish. The fish in the reef were just awesome. Not the modernly used, rotten ‘awesome’ but the very literal ‘awesome’. The one that means to be in complete awe of something. While snorkeling, you are aware of every breath you take. You are in command of every one of your senses. Unlike most times, you are controlled by your body, not your brain. It takes away everything but the peace within you. And yes, I’m talking about snorkeling, not death. It is definitely something everyone should have on his or her bucket list.

A trip back wrapped up the tour. If you ask me to go on that tour with you, the left side of me will reject. Let me explain why. Everyone loves ice cream (At least I do). If I give you ice cream everyday for breakfast, lunch and dinner, you will enjoy it for the first couple of days. Later, you’ll get bored of it and will want something else. Anything but ice cream. Beauty has the same effect on you. If I go back there, I am afraid that I will get used to that caliber of beauty and I will stop appreciating it. The left side of me doesn’t want that.

But my right side is a rebel. It will long for it. It will want to go back. It will want to see the beauty again and again.

I do not know, for sure, what I would pick. I do not know, for sure, if I would crash waves. Again.

 

 

The Lion and the Bird

Here’s to the bird that sang to heavens
Who laid its fate for a melody
Who lost its voice in utterance
Who ended for beginning.

Here’s to the lion that sat in its den
Who hoped for light for nothing but feast
Who craved for life with utmost pleasure
Who lived upon denial.

Here’s to the bird that is forever lost
Whose last breath was air’s feeding
Whose body filled with fatigue couldn’t find a tree
Whose remains were consumed by the king.

Here’s to the lion to whom this was no loss
To whom the jungle was a mere puppet
To whom life was a new toy
To whom the bird was only a delicacy.

A moment comes when a question arises
It haunts us for all eternity
Alas, between the lion and the bird
Who is the real king?

This Dawn

Far away in an unknown land
When, I cannot say, but you will wonder
About who you are and what you’ve done
Whether or not you’ve been someone

From the earth comes petrichor
Or is it the smell of holiness
What it is you cannot tell
Because you are immersed in deep renaissance

Somehow you know it is the end
As you recollect the days of dark
Pondering upon your righteous service
You join a force,a rival of light

This my friend, is what is wrong
Nor are you a fighter neither a knight
Yet, you battle the law of life
Without moving an inch, not one bit

This is where I ask you to stop
There’s no meaning in questions now
Asking yourself for your definition
Is not what is meant for this dawn.

(‘Fighting for life’; ever wondered how this can be attributed to a man on a death bed?  Honestly, there is no fight here… the man cannot move one bit. All he goes through is renaissance. Isn’t it ironic that we indulge in millions of fights like this every single day?)

An Honest Brat Vs. A Kind Liar

Imagine a situation where a loved one gives you something you don’t like. Something you never wanted. Something at whose thought you get the ‘chill’. To make a long story short: Something you hate. And then they ask you “How is it? Do you like it?”. What would you? Would you rather say “I love it! How did you know I always wanted it!” and be a kind liar, or say “I appreciate it but, I really don’t like it. Sorry…” and be an honest brat?

Most people would say that being a kind liar is better. After all, it does bring a smile to the other person’s face and fill their heart with happiness. It is a gesture of care and affection. If you can make someone feel so special then why do something else?

Agreed. Making someone else feel happy is a great feeling. But if this happiness comes from a lie, isn’t this happiness fake? Are the emotions of that person true? This is the only and probably the most major drawback of being a kind liar. The kindness is unreal. So all that remains then, is a lie. And discovering the truth after a lie would cause more pain to the person than the ugly, original truth.

Hence, I believe that being an honest brat is better. Sure the person will feel bad for a while but you won’t feel any guilt. You will not have lied and will have given criticism, which for humans is a necessity.

There are people who will disagree and I respect that. Everyone has their own opinion. So instead of giving a conclusion, I’ll give you an option. You tell me. Is it better to be an honest brat or a kind liar?