Some people think you represent light. Your laughter lightens up their day, they say. You somehow are always joking around, you are always full of hopes – of finding love and being happy, of chasing stars and turning dreams into reality.
Some people think you are the night. They would come to you on a full moon night but will stay away during the new moon. They think you are always sad; that you are the epitome of suffering; that you suffer too much – inside your head and outside. That you are always full of angst, anger and rants.
But your people are the ones who see that you live in the edge of darkness and the light. No, they know that there are more layers than just day and night. That you are the various shades of the sky in twilight. That you are sorted in your chaos. That you are full of life, because you’ve known death so well. That you are always laughing around because you live with sadness in your sleeve.
Some people think you represent happiness. Others think you are always sad. But your people knows that you represent ups and downs of life. And that, like life, you always move on.
Every time you ask me how I am, I have no idea what to say. “Fine”, is not in my vocabulary but I haven’t reached the “Good” yet. I hate saying, “Okay” but since I think today was better than yesterday, I end up saying, “Better”. Sometimes I might end up saying, “Great” but I regret it immediately because I would only be feeling great at that moment and not entirely in life. I probably was feeling great because I might just have had a chocolate cake or watched a good comedy movie or finished a good book. I must have felt great because Kaka took me out for lunch, or because I met my old boss or just woke up from a four-hour-long nap. I don’t feel great all the time. I don’t feel good even or even better or even okay. Most of the times, I don’t know how I am feeling and I don’t know if that is a good or a bad thing. What I know is that I am not sad anymore. I also know this is not emptiness because I can feel things, when I feel it. But am I happy? Is this a kind of happiness? I don’t know. So every time you ask me how I am, I have no idea what to say, so I end up saying, “Not sad” and maybe this is a good thing.
It’s sad to know that you still are the same girl you used to be before. Not a single thing has changed. You still are selfish. You still end up breaking hearts of those who mean a world to you and for whom you mean a world. You still end up waking one day, feeling everything has changed – what you have been feeling for all this time has disappeared, you are already aching for a way out.
It’s sad that this is what I will always be my whole life. This is how my life will always be. That I will always wake up one day and realize I don’t feel the same. That I would try to find a way out. I will find a way out. That I will ache to be somewhere else, to do something else, and maybe be with someone else.
It’s sad that I don’t even not want this life. I think I have always dreamt about this – not settling down, not being committed, not fixed on one thing.
I see her struggling. Doing every little things like walking around, getting up, sleeping in. I can see that it is hard for her to do things like this even with someone else’s help. I can see her squinting eyes, her skin wrinkling up, she trying to suppress the sound each time she does things like this. At those moments, I wish I could take her pain away and heal her. I wish I could tell her, I am right here to hold her. I wish I could stop all this right there. Instead I watch her, taking each step slowly, asking her to be careful. Instead I lay down beside her on a tiring weekend and let her play with my nose and hair.
Regret looks like the never-ending lines of pilgrims
with tired face after walking for hours.
It sounds like him gasping for air while talking to you on the phone,
as he too, is among them
And tastes like the chocolate ice-cream they have on their way,
while resting under a shade in the hot sunny day
It smells like warm tea being distributed,
in the bahal near you, for them
and feels like an emptiness and heaviness in your heart,
a sad smile and teary eyes everywhere.
Regret is not being able to go to Dipankha Yatra
for he asked you not to.
It is missing once in a lifetime opportunity,
one that you had been waiting for all your life
Regret is killing one of your dreams
because you couldn’t fight with him for it anyway.
Regret is love
The reason why you didn’t go,
you didn’t want to break his heart,
thus you broke your dream
Regret is life,
You got the chance only when
you were not supposed to grab it,
a chance to live your dream .