But when did Hypocrisy become humanity?

I am no angel, I am a human. I walk through humans and live with humans. I talk to humans and I talk about humans. I see Humans, but I see no humanity.

This thing never leaves my mind, no matter how much I try I am not able to dismiss this recurring thought that keeps disturbing my heart. I watch the news and I feel Oh God humanity is dead, I walk past an old man being pushed away by careless people too busy to stop and give way, and anger rushes through my blood and I feel Do they call themselves humans? Endless similar incidents and endless questions of why do we choose to be so heartless. I say ‘we’ because I do nothing to separate myself from you. I crib and cry about you not being a human I wish to be.

Same things, same people and humanity that flourishes on Social media

Right before you posted that heart touching status about How people should respect Women and how Rape is inhuman, you pushed off an old woman who was begging you for a little food. Right before you shared that video about why we need to save lives of people who do not have lives as easy and luxurious as ours, you brutally kicked a small boy for touching your expensive car. You oogle at the hot girls in your college, in your neighborhood and anywhere you find them and then you tweet about the rape case which you feel is disgusting and against humanity. You insult you parents when they ask you for things that you don’t find interesting, and then you share a heart wrenching post about how you should respect your parents.

This what we do, don’t we? Keep sharing and posting things that are as meaningless and ignored in real life. Either stop pretending, or start acting. Maybe then you could face the world without guilt at the back of your head.

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To the Society, with love.

There is no other simpler way to say it, I have lived a life for you,Society. I have looked at the mirror, seen myself thoroughly, through your eyes. I looked at the reflection of my body wrapped in your approval. I walk out with a free soul, in a tied body. I see you looking at me when I say something you don’t like to be said in public, I feel the weight of your scrutinizing gaze upon me. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I look at you for approval or applause. I feel good when you look at me with praise in your eyes, but I almost die when you abandon me. I need to impress you, I need to prove that I fit in, I try hard but you get harder. Every time I feel I am one of you, you turn me away and put me down.

I have tried to cut myself at places you said shouldn’t be the way they are. I hated myself at the places where I needed love. I stopped, I wasted away, I lost, I did as you say. But lately, I have been giving away, the ropes are down, I am burning them, one by one. I am letting myself grow, the way I feel right. Because, 20 years, has been a long time, enough to realize that it is my life, my body, my smiles. 20 years, and I am done with hiding who I am. I am done with you telling me how to be a good woman, and how to love a man. I am done with muffled voices of my prisoner heart. I am done with moving with your time, your wrongs and rights. I am a big girl,20 years, and I am going to live , starting from today.

 

Another Day at Life

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Mornings must be full of life. Wake up and wash your face, they say. But getting ready for another day has become so tiring nowadays. I don’t want to get up. I want be lost in this blankness of sleep for a little longer, because sleeping lets you forget that as soon as you get up, you need to run.

I am a student. I am not in a hurry personally, if the world is sucked out of my mind, you’ll find me to be an extremely happy child, so full of life. But socially, I have to run to survive. When I was over with school, I had to gear up for college. When I got into college, I had  to go ahead of others and sit in placements, to reserve a place. Now, I am over with college. No, don’t stop yet, you cannot rest, they say again. I get on my toes, and get ready for another race.

But if you suck the world out of my mind, I’d rather read books, or go travelling beautiful places. I’d rather sit back and relax. I’d rather give away myself to all the things I missed out because of the senseless race. But the world is in my mind, and the voices are confusing,speaking all at once. I need to excel at something, otherwise they’ll laugh. Run!

Good mornings, aren’t really good, they force me to put my shoes on, and walk on the steps that aren’t even mine. What forces me? Oh! It is all so gloomy. I wish I could pull them all out of my mind, and step out of the race. I wish I could sit down, with a smile on my face while they all run about.

Nights aren’t good either. They are even more scarier, because I hear voices closer when the sun goes down. I wish they stop speaking, or at least whisper quietly. I don’t understand why they keep screaming. I wish nights were just about stars and moon, about going to sleep.
I wish stars weren’t directions, and moon not hung to conquer. I wish people lived more than they try to understand live. Because they do it all wrong, they make it all run!

I wish that smiles were real, and hopes were up. I wish waking up was a beautiful feeling. I wish every other day at life wasn’t as dim, and I wish we loved living.

The Wrong Time

“Maybe it was all for good. Maybe it was never meant to be”

There has to be some reason though. He loved her, he couldn’t have ruined her. As he walked down the road, he heard a voice calling for him.
“Sid!” But he didn’t want to turn back, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able return back to his present. The past was calling for him.

Soon, the voice grew impatient, and ran towards him, knocking the walls down. “Hey! How have you been?” They talked long, about everything and about nothing. An unusual tension wrapped them. What were they thinking, it isn’t right to let it go on. They must stop, stop talking but who’ll stop first? That has always been the question. The question never answered, nothing ever stopped.

He tried to draw back. She wasn’t his anymore. But he couldn’t, she was holding him. Her hands weren’t, her eyes were. They were speaking, as though if they stopped talking, they would lose something very real. Suddenly, the phone rang. It was his girlfriend.

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“I wish I hadn’t seen him, I wish I hadn’t ever known him.”

Even though she regretted knowing him, she couldn’t stop herself from calling his name when she saw him. How difficult can heart get sometimes, doing everything it shouldn’t do. But it was difficult, to see him and not talk to him. What else could she do when all her past was walking right across the street.

Good memories, they never leave you. They are so addictive that you can hardly resist tasting them again and again. What could she do if he was her only good memories. The long walks, endless talks, sarcastic comments, casual flirting, sense of understanding, blind trust and the falling in love.

Nothing was planned, but their going apart was. If she could ever erase something from her memory then it will be the day he told her to leave. Not directly, but she knew it, she had to go. So, she did.

Seeing him again was two feelings ; dying and living. By now, it was clear that he meant alot more, more than she thought. But she was helpless. She couldn’t tell him what she felt, she wouldn’t. How dangerous love can be for people who love at the wrong time. It could have been different, if she had realized it earlier. Now, love was not welocoming for her, it was dangerous, unfair.

He had clearly told her that they cannot talk anymore. It was something about his girlfriend.

                                        xxx

The phone was ringing still. He had to cut it thrice. He picked up as soon as Tia left. He was on the phone with her girlfriend, but his senses had left him 5 mins ago. He kept on talking, unaware of what was being said.

It was her mistake, she never understood the simplest thing. Everything else she could guess but not the most obvious thing. He was in love with her, for the first time he had loved someone so much. Maybe love is a dangerous thing when it happens at the wrong time. He always felt she wasn’t ready for anything, and not for him at least. How beaitiful it could have been, to be with her, to see her, talk to her, love her, kiss her, hold her. How beautiful it would have been to be with his best friend.

His thoughts wandered to Tia, more than he wanted to. It seemed as if he was spell bound by her simple beauty and honest smile. And her eyes, the most beautiful he had ever seen. She isn’t like any girl he knows, she is different.

Suddenly he realized the call was long ago disconnected. He redialed the number. His girlfriend cut the call again and again. He was confused, he was too lost to understand what was happening. The phone beeped, a message  said “Go die with her!”

Love is the most mysterious thing in this world. You think you have lost it, forever, to the wrong person, or the wrong time. But it surprises you with the way it can show up when the hopes are nil. It shows up when the time isn’t right or wrong but insane. It shows up when there is no hopes of seeing it again.

He had spoken her name at the wrong time, to the wrong person.

What’s wrong with me?

They kept on telling me what’s wrong with me as pulled up the blanket covers over me. Earlier I would get up and listen, and yell at them, defend myself with little whatever, which only added to my misery. I would, then, run to the bathroom and cry. I always wondered why I could never do it before them. Maybe, they are right about me being insensitive and careless. That was what I used to do, now I just put up the blanket on my face and pretend to be what they think I am; insensitive and careless. I have been like that for most of my life; I have been that even before I knew the meanings to these words. My life has always been defined by others. I have always been what they told me I am. When I was younger and insensitive, I believed it without any resistance from the inside, because I believed there was nothing inside, or because they never told me that I too have it, a soul. But as I grew up, I felt something inside me, something opposing whatever they said, something denying that I am ‘Insensitive’, something changing the meaning of my very existence.
That struggle, day in and day out only made the question even more intense; “what’s wrong with me”, I kept on wondering. I kept on oscillating between two ambiguous identities; the one they gave me and the one I struggled to find inside me. Things affected me as much as they affected them, but I couldn’t react the same ways, I couldn’t make the same choices, I couldn’t make the same impressions. I didn’t like what they liked, I didn’t like sitting with people, and I never knew the reason, I felt a burden on my heart, I felt it saddening, depressing, holding me down. I felt their eyes on me, asking or telling things I didn’t know. I didn’t like it because I was told that I am like that, insensitive and indifferent. I could never outgrow it, I have been through so much they know nothing about, my parents, my family, my friends, no one. They tell me that I am useless, and I have no purpose, they have been doing so since I was a little kid, what else could I do than to believe it and accept it?
They kept on telling me what’s wrong with me, thinking that being so insensitive, it won’t ever enter my head, but it did. I struck me hard, each time; it struck my soul, my heart, my mind. It’s intensity never going down. What’s wrong with me, that’s what they kept on telling me, and I believed each what they said. How could then I sit with people, talk to people, let them know me, let them know how insensitive, indifferent, unwanted I am? How could I talk to people without the fear of being judged, and that too wrong?
By whatever they tell me, I perceive that I am not a good person, that I am bad, that I don’t have God inside me.That is the struggle I face, I don’t feel bad, I don’t think ill of others, I don’t want troubles, I don’t want anyone to suffer, but I don’t know how to show it, I don’t know how to express it. That’s why they think I am bad because I don’t know how to show that I am not. My parents, my family, even they don’t know me, even they think that I care about none but myself, that I sleep too much, that I stay aloof, that I don’t know a thing. They don’t know a thing. I am terrified, I feel lost, I cry thinking about what’s wrong with me, I cry about thinking all the things they say to me, I struggle to be myself. I struggle to live in a world that doesn’t know me, a World I know nothing about. How am I to live then, when I am nothing they want me to be? I have given up now, I have learned to be insensitive, I am a disappointment to my family, my friends, and how am I to live then?
I don’t know how to cook, I don’t want to, I don’t like to go out, I don’t like to meet new people, I am under-confident, I lack self-respect, I am far from loving myself and I am selfish. I want to live and I won’t mind if death takes me down. For I am tired, and exhausted of not being able to be what they want me to be, I am tired and exhausted of not being able to be what I am.
What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? Everything.

Her smile

And She told people about it like it was easy.

Like it was easy to fix herself,

like it was easy to forget the pain,

like it was easy to walk away,

like it was easy to be happy again,

like her heart was never broken,

like she wasn’t afraid, like she still isn’t.

She told to people about it like she never trembled

when she saw it all fall apart, slowly, piece by piece,

pieces she had put up together herself.

But It was easy, easy to lie.

Her smile could hide everything.

|Lies|