since when did writing blogs become an obligation?

dil uth sa geya...i feel so bland nowadays, pardhai..bhag bhag bhag... itna kaam hai samajh nahee ata kahan se shuru karun kia karun... todays saturday, i have a dawaat at a friends place, then a dawat at khalas friends place, tomorow i have to get pictures taken for my med form, write papers, moday presentation, tuesday quiz and paper, wednesday medical exam and evening lecture, thursday class, friday meeting up with a friend...dimagh kharab.

the city keeps spinning in a glass ball from one season to next within the space of a week.
days when the sun shimmers saffron yellow, bathing the white houses and the silver glass sky-scrapers in gold....the heavenly city by the aquamarine blue ocean, forest olive green mountains...lavender skies..

and days when we slumber under an ivory white blanket, the trees hung down by crystal clear icicle leaves... cars, houses, pavements painted white white white,...plum grey skies, silver blue rain.the monotone grey of the city life disappears under the crushed pearls of snowflakes, raindrops...grey white clouds parting through to let in the occasional silver pearly sheen...

an ode to Vancouver...how soon it will end.
i think as time passes by it's starting to hit me that I wont be here come may...and in September ill be in a city as colourless and lifeless as any metropolitan in the world.
Toronto.
where will i find my purple rain? my burgundy red leaves?

an ode to the days of yore.

no sounds of khala and her kids wafting through the crack in my door, khalu's heavy footfalls on the carpeted stairs.
no wooden bed to lean back on, my watermelon pink and green bedsheets, my yellow orange floor cushions, dusty gold carpet.
no excitement on the first day of class, navigating new faces, distant professors, my stony grey university.

all this will end.
yet
again.

and then people wonder why i have an inexplicable fear of things ending. paranoia that everything will cease, dissolve, expire, evaporate in a puff of grey wispy smoke i wont ever be able to catch between clenched fingers.


all this will end, for the 5th time in my life..
ive moved around too much. lost too much.
gained yes, but i feel like i keep learning and gaining but it never really.. congeals.
i feel like a fragment. particles of me held together by barely existent threads..parts of me floating, dissolving, fading into non existence.

i keep losing.
and that innate fear of loss resides in me. rises in me like thundering, overwhelming waves. black insects crawling over the leather hide of someone once true,
someone once pure.

it consumes me like a parasite i cannot get rid of, and manifests itself in my dreams where i run around frantically looking for a lost home... and of recent, my lost mother.
i see that she has passed away. im convulsing in grief where relatives of mine mock her. i clench my fists in infuriating anger, and scream ' she's gone! dont you understand!!'

fear.

couple of nights ago i dreamt of my uncle. in my bedroom again. saying those pure things syed tells me, butchered and blackened words, seeping out like black ants between white gums, crawling towards me from his repulsive mouth.
'you look beautiful. you always look beautiful'

he crawls toward me and i back onto my bed. my trembling hand on the phone, dialing numbers before the blanket.
mum's. his. hina's.
realization-none of my support is there in this tiny room with me, other than him.
realization-there is no escape.

someone open the window please, icantbreathe.

fear.
i retreat into the wall, hoping the cement might envelope me from the leer of his beastly eyes, his clawing hands.
At the first touch of his lust blood caked finger, i close my eyes...

...and open them, back in this cursed cage i call my bedroom. my hair plastered to my forehead, knuckles white in rage, clenching the corner of the bedsheet.
im too scared too scared too scared to open my eyelids mum,lest the horrid dream become reality, the reality become the horrid dream as it already has in the past.

fear.
despair.
qualm.
phobia.
revulsion.

no, i haven't forgotten khalu.
my mock strength and facade crumbles a little every time i have nightmares about you,
every time i pass you in the corridor and shy away from your indifference.
he's not the man he's not that man he's not that man. dont hate him.
how could i hate him? i love his children.


there are times when the barely glued up walls give in. times when i sob and cry and scream all this out to drug.
he sits watching, agitated, helpless.
as i rock on the balls of my feet, convulsing in terror, in tears.


the fear is won, i tell him. i can't do this anymore and i want to go home. i tell him i'm crushed on the inside,like the million shards of a mirror held up by silk strings.
glint off each other, give the illusion that these abrasive dimanonds are whole. intact.


the fear is gnawing away at the frayed loose ends of my heart, the afraid hushed up composure.
like an indrawn breath waiting for the touch of that first finger.
like the realization that i am utterly alone.
the realization that i have lost lost lost .

and must lose.

so that i lose the thought of that nightmare.
draw it out from me grain by rotten grain.
chisel out these coarse,dying black motes from the tender reds of my skin.

lose them

into the golden wind storms of Libya, the vibrant rush of Karachi,
the stone-tiled airport in New York, the watermelon bedsheets and yellow cushions of my room, Vancouver.

let me Lose.

...................................

this one's for you.

i wanna tell you that it isn't wrong
of loving then losing then moving on.

-L.M Montogomery

you are the one thing that will be toughest to lose.
thank you for watching, for listening, for healing, for the reminder.
i AM stronger than this.

thank you for being strong enough for me.

...............................

arighttttt..so thats prolli one of the most emoest, most disturbing and also, one of the most honest blogs i've ever written. i had a hard time writing it, because i wanted to face the biggest weaknesses in me straight in the eye, and tell them it aint halloween anymore.

you think with time and talk it gets better, but it doesn't.specially on out of the blue nights where you replay it frame by frame in your dreams.so clear its almost true.

all of the above completely factual, if not toned down, because there are still certain things i cannot write about.
maybe with time ill be able to. i need to.
catharsis.


and no i didnt write this 'cuz u lot pity me and dont hound me for writing for so long, please continue to do so out of your hearts content.
the only reason why i wrote this is cuz its 5 am and im too nervous to sleep, presentation tomorrrow. lol. :P

i miss u guys. and i AM still reading all of ur blogs even if i dont get a chance to reply. :)
i shall now head back to fragrent dreams, and try and catch a few winks.
much cheeni!!!
-eeda