A Parallel Universe

The art of excelling in a particular genre of life took it's first steps when I was taught that we live in this world which is one of a kind. I didn't get to choose the way I live and thereby, was forced upon the same. The immature mind didn't allow me to raise hands and I went with the flow like a dead fish. Writing became a place of my own and in order to make people aware of my existence, I made it public. It did reach everyone but I was not the first one. I was no magician. I had my own place borrowed from this world and I had to do everything to make people aware of that place. My writings blurted out the address of my place but there was no one to listen. Everyone was confined to their own dark spaces.

The lust of being heard guided me to a place where I learned that even words had souls and in order to connect with these souls, I had to experience life.
With life, I had the freedom to choose. This made me have my own world around which I built huge walls to protect my heart from breaking because that was the only thing which I could call my own.

Now, I had two worlds to live in and one always contradicted other. The only solution to connect the two worlds was by being an artist, someone skillful enough to impact the present world by making a mark on their own world. This gained me fame. Everyone started whispering about my writings and I was officially an artist. The attention was good but the solace I used to quench in my own world faded. My walls came down and I became vulnerable. Everyone knew who I was and I got lost in the crowd again.

The vulnerability costed me my heart and my world became dark. My writings became intense and the pleasure following it took me to a parallel universe. I found utter solace and black became my monochrome.

Ever since then, I see everyone clap their hands on my life wrecks and applaud the writings that signify it. I painted their worlds with words and they called me an artist in return.

So when someone asks me what it is to be an artist, I look at them and tell them the story I had starred in. After all, the only thing I wanted was people to know the address of my place.

My Own Dark Spaces

As I lay my legs on the fence in my balcony and sipped coffee, memories came rushing to me like a wildfire. To adore the setting, rain started its water works and swept away the mask of happiness that lay perfectly on my face. Adele did her part and in a beautifully designed time machine, I traveled to my past.

Much forgotten, much burned but still sturdy and profoundly dark.

I saw us holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. I saw us dreaming about the things that we would do together. That 24-seconds stare game that I lost every time so that I could see her win still made me smile. Going further inside my dark spaces, I see us saying goodbye to each other at the exact same place where we had seen other for the very first time and at that moment, our so called 'perfect' relation faded in thin air like a puff of smoke.

I may be dumb to still think about my past even though I have a very happy present. But the truth is, the dark spaces have become a part of me like scars and no matter how much you try to get rid of it, it persists, somewhere within me. It's like a switch that can flip anytime.

So when they ask me today as to why do I write dark stuff, this is all they need to know. It's not something that comes in my mind out of nowhere but something that I have learned to live with. It's something that makes me realize what went wrong in the past and helps me guard my walls. My own Dark Spaces.

Spring Special

It's spring, a season of new beginnings. Everything is peaceful around and it seems like our earth is brought back to life again. This season has something special for all of us. New revelations, new beginnings. It's special in it's own way. For me, it truly was just a beginning for all the good things to come. 

My alarm went blasting on me at 5:30 am sharp. I felt like the jangling head on the clock had popped out of the device and was banging my head with it's arms monotonously. What next ? I lost and the alarm won, as usual. I tried to sit upright on my bed but sleep had tied strings with my bed and these kept on pulling me back. I could see them crying for me to get back. They really missed me. But I tried my best to avoid their deceiving gaze. I got up and went out to the balcony. My eyes were wide open. The view was awe-inspiring. My gaze stayed firm with my mouth wide open and I lived that moment, that splendid moment perfectly. After all, Spring was here.

I got myself cleaned up and was all set for the first day of spring. I reached my college and headed straight to the canteen. The smell of bagels adorned the surrounding with it's aroma. And in no time, the intensity of the smell increased rapidly. I froze the very next moment. 

'Hey. Is this seat vacant ?', said the girl with voice like a melody. 'Umm,umm... Yeah. Of course. Have a seat please.', still frozen with my eyes fixed on her. She was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. Her hair was perfectly in place with visible brown shades in her hair locks. Her eyes glittered. They had that shine which made me feel dizzy. Her nose was pointed and I instantly fell for that, an obsession. Her lips were inviting for a kiss. That slight pink gloss made it more like a daydream. It was like I was high with she being my drug. It was anaesthetic. She was charming and beautiful. She was like the first day of spring. It seemed that she had some superpowers for she made me froze in the spring season. I just couldn't get enough of her. 

Thinking about all this, I realized that she had left and I sat there looking at her, the way she danced away with her elegance. She made it all more than special. Everything around looked different, better. The season had it's own way of making it special for everyone and for me, she was more than special. At that moment, I realized that everyone was beautiful in their own way. But she, she was an epitome of love. It was the time for a new beginning. I wanted to know her. I wanted to fall in love, with she being the perfect choice. I wanted to give my all to her, to fly with her and to be there for her when she loses it. Yes, I wanted to be completely hers for she had reserved a permanent place in my heart. I wanted to know how it felt during the bad times, how hurt became stronger than love, how to live without a piece of heart and how to live alone. I wanted to know all of it but with her for she was already mine.

I gathered all the courage I had, held my head high and not thinking about the future, walked out of there with all the the love I had, with all the hope I had in my love, with all the faith for my hope, with all the belief on my faith, with all the courage for my belief, for she was worth it. 

Cheers to the new beginnings. Happy Spring :)

The Mask

He used to wear his mask of happiness, that fake smile everyday just to pass another day of his life. He survived. But he couldn't hide himself from the fact that he was lost, somewhere deep in those woods, away from everyone. He was always surrounded by people but that storm of loneliness was vulnerable. Things could had changed in the blink of an eye. The shackles of loneliness were too strong to be broken. Everyone used to laugh around him but they couldn't see the pain within and it eventually seemed that they were laughing on me. He lured for someone to rescue him from this inevitable loneliness, to be there when no one else could. He didn't ask for more. He made his choices. Darkness was always with him. He always used to ask himself,' Can I ever be better than this ?'. He didn't know about being happy for real. He thought of asking someone what happiness is. They had varied answers but none understandable to him. He sailed through the darkness carrying his heart and belief with him and a small hope of light that one day, someone will show up and rescue him from this darkness. He'll be able to see the clear skies again. He would rise from the ashes but his sail never ended. Every morning reminded him that he has to wear his mask else they'll come to know that he is no more what he was before. It had become more like a habit. The mask never left him and he was afraid to let go of it until the day when the change was made to happen.

One fine morning, he woke up and to his surprise, the mask was missing. His adrenaline rushed swiftly through his veins and his fears haunted him. He had to learn to live without the mask and with a heavy heart, he decided to live above his fears and face the fate. 

'You are boring', were the last and the only words he heard without a mask.