Monday, 10 October 2011

My Life feels like it is in shambles...

The Stuff toys!!!  What`s difference this time?? I asked myself. This has been going on with so many individuals since long, like me, under the sun. It was the moment when I was exposed to my insanity, my acquiescent nature towards this gruesome reality of life.
How smoothly I was hoodwinked, unable to decipher the tides raising about me, unable to identify the whirlpool which made my identity, i confess my weakness at this point, my aimlessness in spite of being far aimed and above all the fear of creature that navigated my life.

This was the moment-for the very first time I scrutinized my image in the mirror which was not my true reflection. Being in a state of fear all my life I wore an oyster garb for protection. One wrong thought of giving vent to my feelings would make bait—He would stifle me, pull life out of me, decimate my ecstatic moments, myriads of expressions, my trivial wishes and my power.

The expansion and contraction of my mind was an ultimatum for me to relapse and reflect on my life. I confess this to you that he is quisling in actual, he undermined me and my weakness, gave him strength to entrap my soul and the license to consume my creation--- the pearl.
He usurped my ability of floating in air, estranged me from bouts of laughter, deprived me of my visionary eyes, peeled off the gloss of my countenance and numbed my sensations—on the periphery of death.
Strings of hope broke one by one, scattering my wishful thinking and fading into the oblivion .I desperately need someone in my life- someone to tell the world who I am and that I have the right to weave my life the way I want. I cherished the ideas of love, beauty, truth and freedom in my heart which gave me the courage to speak my mind, deny the way of the world, say it on its face that I love all that it hates but my conscience always chided me as if I was committing a crime therefore, I could never make it.

Everything loses meaning, and I will be always the most disappointed one about my situation; I 'll always blame myself of “being weak", of not being able to live in the "real world", of being a total inept.
We are living in a paradoxical life—life within is opposite to life without. All our lives we wear masks in the society which negate all that we cherish in life. My life is fragmentary and scattered like grains of sand, therefore em unable to give wholeness to my personality, I am forever in a twilight state.


  1. wow...what an emotional post this is... loved it... you see when you say that he crippled your life and you wanted to be free..and then you say you want someone else to show the world that you are what you are... i think you do not need to have somebody else to express your thoughts... dependence on others always hurts... and i think you are perfectly capable of expressing yourself no matter how worse the situation is... be yourself and you can take inspiration from people living and surviving in much worse conditions than you are... stay happy :) cheers...

    P.S. welcome back... it feels so nice to have you back on blogger after like a 100 years...blogger was missing you so much :) i was thinking to write a obituary of your blog but lucky for you that you posted today :)

  2. hey Israr, thanks :) but you could not get the scenario behind this post :p so all your advices in vain :D
    thank you for reading this emotional stuff.

    hahahahha Obituary :D i would really kill ya off :p busy with office stuff so no time for blogger!!

  3. Well, I thot it was a symbolic representation of ur thots, oyster in water fearing the fisherman and want to live its own life..kher...salees angrezi me likhti to kuch acha hojata:-P

    And yes this morning I was thnkng k obituary likhu...

  4. hahahhaha aub itni he angrazi aati hy na :P kia kerain

    chalo soon you would be given a chance to write up obituary :)

  5. I can only feel the disenchantment you're feeling by the fragmented language you're writing. all pertain to one emotion but the cohesiveness is not so polished - which i think is good, in this case. it does reflect what effect pain does to the writer's mind. good.

  6. This world is cruel and don’t let to be our self! We pretend, put on the mask and buried our own identity n ourselves, wishes n visions, hope n laughters, somewhere deep inside because we hardly come across people who let you to make you feel the way you want and hence we kill ourselves and take a deep and a deep breath when we miss “us”