Downswing Days

I’ve realised I mostly come on here and write on days I have something happy to report. Be it my physical or mental well-being or a step forward in the right direction, be it any aspect of my life. I do it with the firm belief that sharing is caring, that someone out there might read my pieces and smile, take heart and hustle on. Indeed, your kind comments have proven it to be so.

Yet, on days when I’m not feeling my best, I refrain from writing, either feeling vulnerable at the exposure or feeling like an imposter for having written all those uplifting, self-care advocating posts when I cannot simply gather myself together. Today is one such day. Half of which has passed.

The other half, however, I am committed to change today. I will address you on days that I am down. I will share with you my darkest thoughts, sorrows, fears and words. Why, you ask? Because maybe, just maybe, someone out there might read my pieces and smile, take heart and hustle on in the knowledge that we all have our ups and downs. Our moods have upswings and downswings. And yet, nothing lasts forever. I know I will get back into the right frame of mind soon enough. And you will see the difference. As would someone else who’s currently berating himself for feeling the way he is currently and admonishing himself for not being strong. It doesn’t take strength to plaster a smile on your face and pretend everything is okay, winning accolades and love from everyone around. It does take strength to accept there will be days when you won’t be at your best, that it is okay to take a break, take more than a few moments to be with yourself, accept your feelings and let them live out their life cycle in you in a healthy manner and, most importantly, it takes sheer strength to try and love yourself when you’re on the brink of self-hatred.

So today, I am willing to acknowledge that there will be days when I’ll be an irritable, slobbering, whining, selfish mess. But that is till my mess. I own it and will overcome it. I will live through it to better days. And I will do so without assigning blame to others around me when their behaviour ticks me off just because I’m in a mood. I will heal without damaging another’s mental health. There is a heart big enough in me to love them and myself. I will be real.

What do you say to that?

The truth of a lie

Have you ever been held hostage

By the power of a beautifully framed lie

Have you thought of going on believing

Till the very day that you die

Or will you fight to save your soul

When the river runs dry

Tell me, will you choose the truth

When the whole world goes awry

Said Unsaid

There’s a place where you lock away

All the things you leave unsaid

And if you ever fall weak

I’d like to somehow find the key

And then maybe


You’ll tell me

All the things you’ve left unsaid

And all the pain that you carry

All that grief that’s clawing at you

And all the venom that you’ll never spew

And then, we’ll replace them with memories

Of all the moments you’ve lived anew

And let happiness come through

Be still my beating heart

There was something here once

That’s long since ceased to be

It strived

It thrived

It leapt

But more than that

It felt

It loved

It wept

So, yes, there was something here once

That’s long since ceased to be

A heart, a life, a buildup of memory

And I,

I chose to put it out of its misery

The Invisible Hand

So happy in so little

So sad with so much

The gap between the haves and have nots

Is more often than not bridged

With what we call a smile

It’s a curve

And, at times, a curveball

It’s either served

On a platter

Or at a buffet, free for all

It carries with it the ghosts of unshed tears

Of trials, tribulations and all our fears

And silent screams of anguish

And efforts rendered futile

But they are what fuel and drive it

Through that very last mile

An ode to writing

Writing takes my pain and turns it into something beautiful. It draws from my sorrow and colours it with a rainbow. It sets me free and lights me up. It’s a hug from my mother and from my dad a chin up.

I hope I can do for you what writing does for me. I hope you can read this once and learn to simply be.

When it Rains, it Pours

I’ve experienced a different kind of monsoon this year. In a strange new city, amidst vaguely familiar people. I heard the pitter patter of raindrops falling against my window panes. I heard the thunderstorm unleashing at your end too over our early morning calls. The coffee tastes different, more fulfilling somehow. The days pass by quickly, less mundane somehow. And weekends, oh the weekends are divine. For on weekends, the rains truly shine. And on weekends, you find the time to be mine. If only for a moment, if only till it’s raining outside.

If only

If I could bear witness to how the dawning of a new day feels to the night sky

If I could but fathom how the presence of a baby’s laughter rejuvenates wizened, wrinkled skin

If I could even vaguely imagine how the withdrawal of high tides bereaves the rocky shore

If I could simply know, feel and experience all the wonders and mysteries of this world, I’d like to believe I’d still be awed by the beauty of it all