life landmark.

boy meets dad.

fingers crossed...and kneestoesheartsoulstrings.

pray for me?
-eeda

haphazard

ly put together.
a bursting bubble nerves and inked blue stress held together
sweat tears and the wonderful composing ability of anguish.
antonyms.

you are the cause for the destruction of the family-various, M and N included.

i pray today that i die before i see you happy-M

i can't deal with this-S

Me-bursting at the seams

after days of tiring self composure it felt good to let go and howl.

noendnoendnoendnoend.

ya Allah. please help me to keep my mind intact.

a blog in verse.

(this is
a first)

disaster-struck i am
bewildered once again at
why my soul, uprooted,
is restless, unendless
ly hurt by hacing
to familiarize itself within
newold four walls,
learn to call it Home,
(easy for some) but
it is my 9th move afterall.

i
had found solace
in Loneliness, the
unique requirement
of answering no one, relying
on myself, unencumbered
of social inclusion;
i
set my own rules, found
Joy (such a fool)
transitionary state of being
(i had forgotten) now
unused to public criticism;
i
feel attacked, violated, my
space non-existent;safety
of exclusion (mind soul all)
compromised; i
cannot prevent the
protesting insides.

do
i have right to be
angry? ungrateful
child; bonds of love
wish best even if
method unjust; Adjust.
your time is limited after all,
marriage itself is a new
war.

consolation is only
words (as is
criticism but) my anger
is undettered; i
do not wish (do not)
want to move.
it is not the liberty of
lack of curfew (i do want no
wrong) just
having to constantly
explain
myself; thoughts, feelings,
actions, behaviour; i
prefer instead to
kill the soul not feel at all.
old bitter at 21, they say
eeda, learn to have fun.




where to
begin? end of
beginning? or
beginning of end?
i
will not defend my
callousness; crime in itself
to release, unleash; people
(deserved, undeserved), having
cause is still unjustified.
(i do not wish to hurt) but
is it a right to fight?
for who i am, or think i am,
person
not allowed to become, person
already dying, undone?

forget eeda forget,
all that is said,
all that is told, uphold
patience, think
threefold of action,
control
tears anger hurt.
learn life's rule;
Ad-effing-just.

an acute case of writer's-block held back by
swallowed newspaper mag
azines articles jour
nals jour
neys yet to be spoken about i
borrow others
voices to
tell my story.

doob raha, mein doob raha, 
mujhay bachana.
-bachana

26th July, 2010.
The day I came clean,
to everyone.

World, now a brief hiatus, please?

the answer to that is,

i'm heart-broken. 

how does it feel when the one thing whose thought keeps u afloat during your worst nightmares, just doesn't care for you anymore?
or is too self-consumed to even minutely understand your plight, or even to try and find out, or question, or take an interest, or show any sign that they are making some effort to still be part of your life?

i have never felt more alone.

some battles are meant to be fought alone.

i shouldn't let that make me bitter towards you, i know.
it's difficult.
i'm sorry.

he always wondered why she threaded sepia pearls into her hair,

as a bitter nostalgic aftertaste.

some questions are not meant to have no answers.

-eeda 

could it be
that i am
too caught up
with you
to notice
anything else?

could it be
that i am
realizing this
only too late?

could it be
that i am
regretting,
i could've
accomplished more
within my own self?

of all sad words of tongue or pen

the saddest are, it might have been.

no regrets. not with you.

let it not be naive youth.

-eeda 

there is something in the want of bodies i cannot quite express...

on another note, its discomfiting to know i never quite achieved the dreams i had set out for myself. i wonder what became hurdles, what i let become hurdles... i only know i was, am, capable of more and much more.
there are others who once awed of me, and now i am to awe of them. such is life perhaps.
or maybe im more aware and in need of creature comforts than i ever was. it is too late now.

perhaps ill regret this for the rest of my life, this time well loved and well wasted.
is it too late to change? where do i find the strength within me...

i look for answers in blank maps, they tell me nowhere to go.

-eeda

it continues to amaze me how much my awereness of reality is fucked up.

i dont realize the impact of my words on other people until they bring my attention to it.

i dont realize how i interact with people, but whatever way it is, it works. i have friends, and thats enough.

i dont realize what im saying half the time, and mostly by the time the words are out of my mouth i've already forgotten what they are.

i feel like my life is a constant whirrrrr.....like a dream in fast-forward, except for brief poignant moments i am really awake, and all else is like a deep dim sleep, at times pleasant and at times with its own nightmares.
im never really alive.

i dont know what it is that im doing right, and what it is im doing wrong, until i am told of what it is.
it gets tough to hear all the wrong in one go.

its not their fault.

i wish i didnt permanently live inside my head, ive forgotten what the outside of it feels like, completely.

and im so deeply stuck inside i cant even become aware enough to care, just aware enough to acknowledge that it is.

 .

Control-Freak

 .

how do i burst emotions onto paper? Rage
to turn plain white sheets
to embers, glowing like eyes, heart of coals.
the fear of personas restrains breath
footsteps and i am mocked
for being incapable of making decisions.
(by the very same).
disrespect of existence common and (not) understood, perpetrators
loved and loathed at the same instance, time
as shellshocked as body, soul,
mind,
as incapable of thought as molten ice, freeze
this raging fire to survive.

patience, m'Lord, patience.

mindfuck.

when shit hits the ceiling,
raise your ceiling higher.

too much cliche if i add or die trying? 

-eeda

I am starting to realize
on various levels of consciousness
how bitterly tainted
reality is.

wrap it up in sunshine and anything can appear golden.

In retrospect, what they say about distance making the heart fonder is very slightly unnervingly true.

My brief trans-continental hiatus was careful to highlight the many reasons I had chosen to escape from my family, or fate had been kind enough to tend to it without much effort on my part.

Either way, I now realize that the biggest war is with the mind, and not actual circumstances.
Molding the structure of the mind can make almost anything acceptable, perhaps even those things that never should be, and perhaps this pointless exercise of breath
is just to learn to make that distinction.

heavy thoughts,

perhaps from a heavier heart. 

-eeda