That mental cacophony,
That uncompressed yell,
That undulating pain,
The hurt your heart felt,
That sickness in your belly,
Those trembling hands,
Those clenched muscles,
That need to dish out fear,
That sadistic streak,
Those flickering eyes,
Those shallow breaths,
Those pulsating nerves,
That short gulp,
Trigger to a Slur!
This tryst with time,
These moments of victory,
These moments of significance,
And some not so.
A treasure in the making,
Of experiences as vivid as colors themselves.
I seldom inebriate,
I seldom celebrate.
But the first sparkle of light today,
In this Spring,
Ignites a reinvigorated need to splurge,
To once again test the depth of my being,
To once again dip a toe in this sea of pain,
Wake this demon child that I once put into deep slumber,
And vowed to never wake it again.
This sudden feeling of calm even as I merely write about it,
Is so menacing, so pleasuring,
The demon child smiles,
For it gets to play again,
In the dark and rowdy waters,
Merrily splashing,
My tears of happiness.
This is where I stalled. The best I can describe my absence with, is I’ve been on a journey for a while. A journey to self-destruction and resurrection. A journey to see my ends. A journey to know the truth and self-worth, to live a tale worth telling. And it has come at a price. I’m lost. I’ve lost.
The burden of responsibility now forbids my senses to feel again, see again, hear again, think again. I fail to see how I got here. All that I am is truth. This is all I can be and yet I fail myself and others. The pain of understanding the world and people around me has got the worse of me. It’s becoming difficult to embrace myself for who I am. Because it’s dark. I’ve seen it. Something that’ll swallow me whole. I can feel things building inside me and they are a lot of weight to carry. The days are heavier and nights are sullen. I’m a ticking time bomb and time is close when I’ll explode. An explosion that will blow up their happiness to pieces and no one, not even me, knows what that’ll do to KING “ME”.
The ingredients of goodness inside me are depleting fast. I’ve got to come out. For inside me is burning anger. Case in point are these sudden urges to beat myself up. These urges occur when I’m happy about something specific or when I’ve sated myself. It’s not uncommon for me to feel bliss in pain but earlier, these feelings had a time and place. Not now. They just take over me and then possess me for days and days.
I’m different these days – angrier, surprisingly vociferous and scornful. I’ve always been different. My interests were different. I enjoyed pain and this is something I’m particularly proud of. I intentionally venture into the darker side when I’m aware of joys in brightness. But this tendency is at it’s peak now. I’ve started keeping myself on the edge. I break into moods I’m very unaware of. Life has become a game of hide and seek. Seeking while I’m hiding, in plain sight, yet creating thunders for myself and enjoying them.
I’m trying to find the psychology behind my actions that sometimes seem downright foolish. I’m forgetting more, trying to remember less and yet my dreams play out the drama for me, every night. Libation seems fruitless. So I tried exercising, trying to burn out all my excess energy, so I can remain calmer. It worked for a while, while the pain persisted. Once that went, so did the workouts. And now I’m free again with all that unburnt energy and no pain. It’s all like Forrest Gump. I do things without knowing why I’m doing them. Like these orders were etched inside my brain to be carried out now.
The song above describes me aptly. King Me – try looking for it’s meaning and you’ll get a number of absurd and pervasive results. I have my version too and it goes something like this – It’s a state of a narcissistic mind. One that’s trying to indulge for itself. It’s keeping yourself so high and untouchable, that a connect is almost impossible. It’s destructive. It makes you see and feel things, makes you sway from your path.
Why does King Me kill me? It’s because the world functions on people. People and things are the world. And when I can’t see beyond myself, I hurt others. Only in my case, since I have no one else to hurt, and so I hurt myself. I put myself through paces that are laid on death bed. And it burns. I have the marks – deep and unforgiving. People often tell me that I need to talk more but with what I have and what I do with it, my words fail me too.
That’s for a post later. Right now – Merry Christmas!!!! I’m looking forward to a new year filled with a lot of fresh opportunities and pain, because without pain, there’s no gain!
I was lost. I had gleefully claimed to have found light never knowing that even darkness has disguises. It nearly consumed me. My passivity had had it’s versions but this was one of its most glorious forms. I am now very well aware of who I am on the other side. The other side of me is like the other side of Hulk. Hulk has just one motto – SMASH.
My darkness has one motto – HURT! It was a revenge. A revenge on this world for having treated me so bad. And I never could have enough of that revenge. We never can, can we? Sometimes I feel it is so cruel to feel such delight in someones agony caused by your revenge. But this sudden will to hurt others simply drives us to the pit that we thought will accommodate the world. But No. I made a journey down this endless pit I had dug up, this abyss, and back, and I now feel cured. The dark undertones of sound in each ear now make me pity my other self every moment. How weak and pathetic was I?
My blood toxicity reached a peak after 17 years of blithe ignorance towards my body. The marks on my face, the fat under my skin, the cry for attention underneath the happy façade – all have had their moments of crest. In trying to hurt others, I hurt myself so much, pain became the shadow to this darkness, a friend I always called for distraction.
I needn’t look any further than myself to know what pessimism means. Not anymore. As I complete a month of sobriety, the only promise I can make to myself is that the promises I make to myself again, will never feel the need for a call. Action and not words will lay the foundation for my course. Not that I’ll stop writing, rather writing will determine my actions. Actions that make me win each day in some way.
No more shaky start to my days. No more blurred visions and no more dreadful dreams. No slouching, no taking shit from anyone. If you’ve got the guts to try to knock my confidence down, my guts will not hold back either. No more being scapegoat-ed. No more cries for attention. If its my past that encourages my present, so be it. It’s the only book that teaches me. An unforgettable memoir of pain, humiliation, bad tastes in the mouth, knock outs and some love when I least expected it.
Alarm plays.
Life calls,
Bed befalls.
Ground is cold.
Feet complain.
Groan escapes.
Swiped eyes,
Search for light,
Ache in the torso,
Reminds me of the years left.
Wish I turn back time,
To create a rhyme,
That’s all mine.
An unflustered unsung melody.
That I hum in my shower.
———-*********————
Described in fifty words above is the moment when some of me dies and some of me is born everyday.
Posted for Fifty – Word Inspiration.
Inspired by my day and Little Matters.
My Fifty Word post – Story Of My Life
Here are the current entries for this week’d writing challenge –
What’s your favorite fruit? FYI… mines are apples. “An apple a day keeps the doctors away” and blah blah…
Now think of your favorite fruit and ask yourself how do you like it? Fresh from the market, shining washed in water, off the hooks from a tree, cut in pieces so you don’t have to dig your teeth in, or a bit rotten? You see, a rotten fruit has it’s own unique taste. It no longer associates itself with the fresher version. It has run its miles and now sits in front of your eyes, dying for attention, waiting for the pain of your teeth digging in and the juices flowing out. This fruit is your rotten apple, for it makes you hide when you are eating one, trying to avoid other eyes gazing at you in wonder! But this is your secret, your love for things untouched and unthought of, your attempt at being different and unique in your own eyes.
Another question – will you ever share your half eaten fruit with someone else, who’s not really hungry or doesn’t really carry the same craving for that particular fruit?
Now try to think of this fruit as one of your darkest hidden fantasies. Thing you think people will definitely judge you at. Thing that you’re too scared to bring forth to the world. Just ask yourselves – what is it? How did you get it? Was it your past? Does it belong in your future in any of its forms?
I can make this post a prompt idea and people may go on and use it as a prompt idea and link back to my post. I’ll be thankful for that but this isn’t the idea of this post.
I have a fantasy. It’s dark. It’s merely wishful in the confines of my surroundings. It’s like growing apples in a desert. It won’t survive. I can’t share it with my world. They won’t understand. I know they don’t have enough brains to know, how things make me happy. For them, my satisfaction stands for my happiness, but ask me if they’ve ever seen me happy and I’ll tell you, none of them have ever seen me happy. Hell I think last and the only time even I felt happy was at my home in a specific place and position. I can’t think how they’ll understand how pain controls me.
That lingering ache you, the one that occurs after you first join a gym, keeps your spirits up, keeps you awakened and satisfied by your gains. The world that you enter when your eyes are covered, that light you see, that isn’t visible even in full blown sunshine. That light of freedom, of thoughtlessness, of irresponsibility, of carelessness, of disability, of your past, of your future, it keeps you in the present and makes you see it and feel it within every cell of your body. Those marks on your skin that are persistent, visible, and cause your body to tingle in excitement, so you close your eyes again and try to enliven the same dream over and over till nothing but a crash can remove that smile off your face.
I live for it. I dream of it. I linger in my present to smell and touch it. It’s difficult to make people understand it but I tried, for it’s not a task and I’m free to say what I want to. Had it been one, I certainly will excel, to raise hopes further and beyond what even I’ve fathomed. I’ll excel only if you tell me to, for its expectations and pressure that get the best of me. I want to eat every apple.
I’m writing this post, for this and much more is a burden I’ve carried since childhood. It has to come out. I don’t care if this is a public forum or I ever tried to make it one, but today and in this post, it’s just mine and I need to get it in writing as a reminder of who I am, what I must do and how should I do it. Life isn’t kind and every chance you waste, is an entire section burnt to ashes, never to be looked at again, like dog shit. It’ll linger in your head forever, for you’ve wasted it. Apples don’t matter, their taste does!
I want to love my life, embrace it and it requires me to turn into someone I’ve never seen or known and I’m afraid that it may bring out the worst from me. But trust me, touching darkness in various forms is what I love the most. You’ll elicit a plethora of emotions from me, if your topic touches an emotion darker than a normal person can look into. I want to look into and through you. I want to be you. It’s what defines me. I don’t want my life to look like yours, it eventually may do, but that isn’t the aim. For me, a journey of emotions is a must, else you carry nothing but an object in this abject world. Eat every apple, savor it and you may understand every other apple too without being judgemental. I’m becoming confident and you can’t take a chance with me anymore!
——******——-
Ranu made a very valid in that I think this post confused people about its intent! So I’ll turn this into a prompt idea.
The intent is for all of you to think about that one fantasy that you’re unable to live in your present because of some constraints. You may write a post about it and if you do, just thank me for the idea by linking back to this post. I’ll feature all the entries by next Monday in a separate post signifying your effort and time you gave to this thought! 😀
Veinous Thrombosis! Rings a bell? It didn’t to me. I first heard it when I visited the hospital on Thursday.
It was one of those visits when I realized, right before entering the doctors chamber, what I’d been doing wrong for a long time. A wrong sitting posture and remaining seated for a prolonged period. When the doctor held my left calf, I knew what he was looking for. He was just brilliant and trust me, I somehow knew what he was going after – after I had explained my problem.
The problem started to occur last August when I slid down 10 stairs on a slick rainy day, like a bum on my bum and kept sliding till I hit a dry spot. Not only did I hurt my back pretty bad, it left a lot of bruises nearly everywhere on my backside. I did recover fast but the problems have started to recur and they make it pretty difficult to walk or be athletic, the ways that the burly me can be.
So the doctor held my calf and told me that the entire area is swollen pretty bad and feels very stiff too. He also noticed the blue marks of clots that had magically appeared during the last few months and ached like hell. As I hate spending money on my sickness, I had tried a few cheaper medical cures myself for past 5 months or so, that included painkillers and muscle gels. But nothing had worked and nothing could have. The doctor told us that an ultrasound was required of the said leg for any clots that may be preventing proper blood flow in my veins.
So a few hours later, there I was in the radiology room, with a very young nurse staring at me. Let me make this situation very clear to all of you. I have gotten my pants down in a hospital before but each time, the nurse was a lot older to me and with whom I felt no hitch doing so. But this time, the nurse was very young, around 10 years younger to me and somehow she was rather amused at my inability to bring my pants down in front of her. So, she looks at my face and tells me to remove the jeans off from the left leg! Now how the fuck am I supposed to accomplish that – remove the jeans just from the left leg? I looked around, sat and thought about it for a while but couldn’t figure it out. So I asked her if she meant I have to remove the jeans completely and she said (still giggling) – Yes Sir!
I did so and there I was laying on the steel frame , with goo all over my leg and a man touching the what nots!!! That was so damn embarrassing! Yet I still have no clue what was amusing her so much to keep giggling for the next 45 minutes of my examination. I felt I had committed a crime and that totally sucked! Man I was furious and the fuckiest part was – I couldn’t do a shit about it!
Anyways the good news, that puts a smile back on is, ultrasounds came clean and there are 90% chances that there is nothing to worry about. I’m on medication now, special sitting positions for relaxing the leg, no exertions and no pressing of the calf. And the limp continues till the pain subsides!
P.S. – Not attaching any image as they were too gross to display on this blog!
This right here is a gift for love!
This right here is a promise to stay in love!
This right here is a masochistic rush!
This right here is the fear of needles forgotten!
This right here is the feel of blood trickling down my spine!
This right here is a valentines gift!
This right here is my wife on my flesh – My Star and My Angel!
Lets find out what others did at impulse –
Life to me, doesn’t exist beyond a certain set of people. Beyond them, life is farce. I don’t mean to be rude to this world but yes, till I haven’t seen you, heard you and sensed you, you don’t exist for me.
And so, my best and my worst has only been with and to the people who are around me.
I was travelling from Durg, Chhattisgarh – place where I studied and completed my graduation to Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh – My Home Town. This evening, to say the least, had been frantic. And then there was this train Amarkantak Express that usually left Durg at 4:20 pm sharp. But it left 45 minutes late and in India, there’s a saying – if a train leaves late, it reaches even later.
A calm night later in the morning, I got up and found myself scratching my head on the small side lower berth of the bogie. As I watched the scenes go by rapidly, I found after passing an intermediate station that we were late by an hour. By accident though, a prick pointing out from the damaged plywood berth pierced and got stuck inside the nail of my right index finger. It was really thick and I now had to bear that pain for next 6 hours.
My mother was to pick me up at the station. We were in touch over the phone and she told me she was on her way to the station. I reached but didn’t find her in the parking. I called her and she gave me a news flash – “I’ve met with an accident. Please come home by yourself”.
“Are you OK?”.
“Yes, I’m fine (sobbing)”.
I reached home 45 minutes later worried sick. I looked at our car – the drivers door on the right was badly damaged. I could only imagine what may have raged. Mom took me in, we sat on the sofa. I was so angry. How could someone do this her? She started explaining out of guilt – “A biker came from the right and banged into the car. He went through the window across my face and banged into the left door from the inside”.
“A lot of people came running in. I was very scared and couldn’t talk. I took him to the hospital. And by the time you came, I had come home. I was very scared. Someone stole my purse too”.
She was crying her heart out now and for a moment, I totally forgot the pain in my finger. I took her in my arms and covered her ,for I don’t know how many minutes.
When she finally stopped crying, I explained to her that it was not her fault and she did very well to take the guy to the hospital.
The brave woman that she is, she started getting better.
That’s when I found the pain throbbing in my finger again. I showed it to her and she ran for the cupboard. She brought a pin and started scraping my finger for a sight of that prick wound which had already healed.
She scraped and scraped and finally when reached the prick, she pulled out nose pliers and dug them into my finger. Only I know the pain that seared through my finger that noon and when she finally dug it out and pulled it, blood finally started running out and the pain relieved considerably.
Since then, she has told me a countless times, how my hug showed her that I had grown up and will take care of her. That she was really relieved when I did that and she remembered it too because I did that for the first time.
Both of us will never forget that day.
So my journey continues from –
In the morning when I failed to register my alarm on the phone, people around me woke me up.
Ok, a fresh day and a fresh start. I reached the center this time without getting a fool made of myself by any auto driver.
Now was the best part – they didn’t make us wait, in the batches of 20 odd people, we were given a written aptitude and English test. This being my forte, I cleared them without a hitch. Then came the first written technical exam and it turned out to be a cakewalk too. It was already 3:30 pm and the results were announced. I just never had been so sure about myself and knew that I’ll crack both of those tests – AND… I DID!
The next surprise in store was thrown at us and we were in shock of our lives then – we had to leave for Bangalore ‘coz the next 4 rounds of interviews were all scheduled to be held there. It was very hot in Chennai then (as usual), we wore all the sweated shirts and since I hadn’t brought anything except a pair of utilities and a pair of interview clothing, I now knew I could be in a tight corner later. I knew no one in Bangalore and was very lucky to have the phone number of a friend of mine. I called him up and he gladly invited me to spend my interview days at his place. It was the thrill of the unknown and we kept acting on instincts. We got tickets on a bus and started rolling at around 11:30 pm. That would be the last time I’ll ever see Chennai – got a bit nostalgic then!
We reached Bangalore on the morning of 19th December and it seemed so nice and cozy from inside the bus! The bus stopped at Magestic bus station and those who had been around the city anytime before at that time of the year, knew what they had to do after getting off the bus – COVER THEMSELVES WITH A BLANKET ‘COZ IT WAS FUCKING COLD!!!!
I didn’t know and so it was chills all over my body and spine which was yet to recover from my first journey, which you can read about here –
https://viewsplash.wordpress.com/2013/06/30/my-first-successful-job-interview-fool-fool-fool/
Some good soul, while I tried to get a hang of the cold, brought us tickets to our destinations and we boarded our respective buses. That was the first time ever that I sat in a public Volvo bus. A nice cozy experience – it could have been – had I got a seat but that was not to be. It was around 15 kms of journey again with a bag full of very ordinary items on my back, which then felt like a bag full of boulders! Unknown as that place was for me, I mistakenly got down a good 2 kms ahead of my destination for my fear of getting lost.
But after some running around, my friends got me to their flat and man it felt cozy just like every guys place does. I was given a place to sleep for a couple of hours and I slept. Woke up to the sweeper sweeping the floor and ran like a wind for Accenture – Bang 4, Marathalli. I was late by around 10 minutes but apparently, many of my people were yet to reach the place themselves, so that calmed me down significantly. I HATE BEING LATE!
I have to admit, I am quite good at group discussions (GD) and when I heard the first round at Bangalore was a GD, I couldn’t help but smile and concede that at least one more round is through. GD’s proved to be a huge filter and left a very few people who would appear for the next round of interviews. This was the only round that day and we were given the rest of the day off. I used it fully to prepare for interviews the next day and thanks to my room mates there, they provided for me. One more thing was to be done though. I had to buy a new shirt for the one I had been using for Accenture round of interviews was now DIRTY!
So I called my father, asked him for some money and got myself a new light orange shirt. I still remember, since it was bought on discount, it had a manufacturing defect and a hole near the seam of my chest pocket. But since that was the best that was available cheaply, I bought and slept content that I would rock the interviews the next day.
Next day morning, Accenture were kind enough to provide for our breakfasts and we started with the round of technical interviews. COBOL was the first and I got through it rather easily. CICS was next and this, I knew, was my Achilles heels. As I have written on my first post, I was yet to cover my last module in my Mainframes training and CICS was the one left out. I could hardly answer any question at the start and the interviewer understood that I was very nervous. To get me comfortable, he started small talking and got me into the groove and in between he would shoot a technical question, and now I was answering. I came out an hour later from the interview room and was very nervous as I was very unsure. We were then made to wait in a room which incidentally was freezing cold. It seemed to be a sort of chamber where agents like James Bond are tortured. The fear of the unknowns wasn’t helping either.
After our lunch, came in a female with a lot of pink dots on her face and asked me to come out and took me to another room. She told me that this would be my HR interview as I had cleared all previous rounds. Now to settle everything into perspective, I am quite good with interviews that are NON-TECHNICAL. So this round too would be a cakewalk and since I knew there would be no salary negotiations, I wasn’t worried at all. The surprise was to come after this interview.
They told us that we were gonna have a practical exam and that we would have to write a code in COBOL to prove our coding skills. I did. It compiled the program fine and ran the job. But I forgot the most important part – HOW TO VIEW THE RESULT!!! As I sat there in front of my PC, my palms kept over the keyboard and my fingers were trembling with sweat pouring from my forehead. The invigilator saw that and asked me what happened. I told him the truth and he decided to help me with it. And VOILA – there was the result and it was correct!
I was the first one to be pushed out of the room once my exam was over and the invigilator was satisfied with the result. Nothing was said or told and we (a few others who had completed their test and were asked to wait) waited patiently at 7:30 pm. An hour passed and the HR came and announced the names of the ones who had been selected. Mine was FIRST!!!
It took me awhile to absorb the sensation that I would later come to know as HAPPINESS. For so long I had remained devoid of it that all of my positivity took awhile to wake up and charge me.
We were told to come the next day to collect our offer letters. As soon as I left the building for the night, I started running for something strange was burning inside me. I ran and ran and didn’t stop. Reached home and broke the news to my friends and one my seniors, threw a party that night. I didn’t know what I was going to do with all this happiness for it knew no bounds. It took a lot of effort to sleep that night for I couldn’t wait for the morning to arrive.
In the morning, we went to the Accenture building again and were given our offer letters. I caught my first bus from Bangalore to Hyderabad that evening and slept. The bus was overcrowded, and we reached Hyderabad, next day evening after our bus had had multiple tyre failures being overweight. For the first time I saw South Indian Dhaba’s and tasted food in one of them too. Thank God I had some money to spend on my food.
I had to leave my PG room, got my advance payment back, got a ticket reservation for next day morning train with the same money and went on to find a huge plastic bag to pack all my stuff in a closed market. Packed my PC and got ready for what I knew was gonna be a tough next day.
I woke up in the morning, picked up all my stuff, boarded an auto rickshaw and went to the Secunderabad station. Got all of my stuff booked to be taken in a good’s car and waited and boarded my train. This was not a reserved journey and I was travelling in a General class compartment and some jolly people let me have a share of their seat. I sat, ate, slept, then ate and slept again till I reached my home Bhopal.
The entire journey from Bhopal – Chennai – Hyderabad – Chennai – Bangalore – Hyderabad – Bhopal comprised of 3 train journeys, 3 bus journeys and countless hours of pain and restlessness and the part that I’ll remain most proud of – An offer letter from Accenture in my hands!!!
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