Monday, 5 March 2018

On losing

What people always say after a tragedy is this: Things will be okay soon. For some people, things will eventually get better, yet there are others who for one reason or another live with the fact that things will not be okay. The memories linger like thorns of roses on one's skin. The single undeniable thing is life will never be the same.

The biggest tragedy in our lives — when we lose someone we love. Those special people who occupy the largest places in our hearts, no matter if they have a bond that's made from blood, or soul, or minds. When they're gone, things will never be the same. We have to cope with living without them. We are left to imagine a future where they were still in existence. What would be different if he or she were alive? How would our lives turn out?

Losing someone we love, will we be basked in regret? Regret that materialise because we did not appreciate them when they were still around. Regret that we would not be able to give them what we could give. Regret that we did not give them what we could give. All small mistakes done seem petty when we realise that the person is gone forever. Have we asked for forgiveness?

I think that's the thing about humans. So many of us take for granted of the persons that we have that we think they will be there forever. We never craft a possibility that one day, they will not be there to hold you, to listen to your voices, to make you happy, to love you. Have we loved them enough?

Thursday, 28 December 2017

On changes and memories

Life is never a constant, static thing. It changes, every second, each minute, from the first moment when you were born, to the final breath that you take. Things come and go, events occur and end, people, they reach your life, and they can choose to stay or they can decide to leave. 

Our lives change for better or worse. Some are small, some rather big. Some are benign, others lethal. In whatever magnitude they are, in whatever form they take, they add to the experiences that we have gotten from our years of living. Good changes, undeniably, make us feel better about going through the days. Getting a degree, going to an amazing trip that alter your perspective on this world, reading a good book, getting things that we have always wanted, having new friends, marriage, giving birth, getting that PhD, they are the moments that we treasure in our lives.

Bad changes, in their own twist, are the ones that probably make us appreciate how good our lives actually are. Here's the thing though, not everyone can cope with bad things. Not everyone can see that there probably is a silver lining to our lives' misfortunes. We can choose on whether to wallow in a torrent of sadness, or to use our calamities as the building bricks that help us to understand more about the nature of the thing that is life.

No matter how the changes manifest to us, they are now etched in the banks of memories we have. There are no memories too big or too small. What we select to keep or not remember all belong to our own faculties. It is of my humble opinion that we can never throw away strong memories that we have — we can put them at the back of our minds, but during a few throwaway moments, our minds think of them. What we experienced back then have made us who we are now. Bitter changes, bitter experiences, did they manage to make us bitter too? Or did we choose to craft a greater living in spite of those things?

All those changes in our lives and the memories that we make are a part of us. Even for me, I wish to not have certain things changed, but honestly, who we are today if not of those changes?

Sunday, 24 December 2017

On mistakes

I've been thinking of who I am lately, how I am perceived by other people, and what I have done to those around me. A funny thing about being an adult is if you think being an adult means that you are matured enough and you know who you are, you might be wrong. Some individuals may have known who they are and are living happily. Some... are still searching.

I am still doing that, call it soul searching of sorts, I think I am 65% certain that I know who I am l, what my plans and my achievable targets are, and I am pretty sure I am quite happy, but the rest is still this big mysterious cloud. With that cloud, there comes all those mistakes. Mistakes that emerge due to inexperience, or social awkwardness, or simply, due to me not having a care of people except for myself.

There are moments when my judgement lapsed, and I did things I was not supposed to do. Sometimes, — but who are we kidding, probably many times — I realised that I did mistakes, but I think that's the thing about mistakes — they can be easier to do.

Of course, my face got shoved with reality and now I come to a realisation that, I have been a stupid, shallow, self-centred person. My mind told me that I cared about people around me, but then did I really care? Do I really care now? Do I care that I'm still not a functioning adult? Do I think that I still depend too much on people around me?

Do I really know what's going on in other people's minds when it comes to me? I can't even solve the mystery that is me, let alone knowing other people.

The thing about human is, when you think that a person is a jerk to you, you yourself can be perceived as a jerk to another person. It's a cycle. And I know I have been committing too many errors, both intentionally and unintentionally, against people around me. That makes me a jerk.

I'm getting closer to being a 27 years old guy. I don't want people to hate me for things I did. I don't want to see myself in the future getting worried about mistakes that I did in the past, especially those where I intentionally did.

Living without a mistake, that would be a bed of roses, but a bed of roses our life is not. I know I can't run away from making one, but at the very least, I want to make sure that the mistakes made are not towards other people, and even if they do, they will have a much lesser impact to those around me.

Saturday, 2 December 2017


We are the things
that malfunction
not angels
nor demons
we have
that pump
out from
our heads
we build scarred
walls made
from the
fragility of
our skin
voices stumble
on the edge
of our lips
wishing that
we are powered
by batteries
eyes shut
ears switched off
when life
fails us
because we are
glitches ourselves

Wednesday, 4 October 2017

An Exaggeration of a Fiery Heart

They have never seen within the boy his heart. It is a fiery torch that can’t be doused. His heart is a coal that glows constantly. It fuels him with a desire to burn walls and carve new pathways through them, it warms him with a passion to live. Burn like a phoenix he is, reinventing himself with every single cycle. He rises like the sun that enlightens the land every morning. He lights up his path to seek answers. Like the oil needed to sustain fire, his heart consumes the terrible and churns it to power to stay alive. No one can extinguish the boy’s jubilant flames.

In Dark

We creep oh for
so long of a time
even in the darkest
of nights
we are the blackest
of all shades of blacks
“I’ll stay with you.”
he whispers
“I can’t leave you.”
he says
I am his temple
My body is a coffin
keeping lights out
and I have a shadow
for my company

Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Every night I don’t dream of you

Every night I don’t dream of you I don’t dream of you I don’t dream of the way you make me want to caress your hair slowly and definitely just like how a fish glides effortlessly through the fast river I don’t dream of the way your skin feels so soft and smooth and how I want my fingers to touch your skin I want to touch it like how the waves lap on the shore and moves back into the sea I don’t dream of your smell the smell of your fresh clean shirt the smell of your hair after shower the smell of you during early mornings I don’t dream of how I fall into the abyss of anger of hatred of madness because I can never be yours you can never be mine I can never be yours and all of these are lies because I dream I am dreaming I always dream I dream of your eyes how they shine in the light I dream of your voice the combinations of sounds you make with your tongue and lips I dream of your left hand how they would look so right holding mine I dream of you the entirety of you the whole soul of you you with me with me anywhere looking at one another telling stories that make us awake at night you with me chasing our dreams together you with me arguing and mending ourselves again you with me I am with you or I am not with you I dream of you when I don’t want to because I am angry I am mad I hate myself every night why can’t I stop If I can’t love you why can’t I hate you I want to hate but you pull me closer and closer unknowingly let me hate you let me hate but my heart wants to love wants to love wants to forget wants you wants everything that you are made of wants every molecule of you wants you to light up my dark wants you to be the water when I am in fire wants everything that you are made of and I still hate that I love you still I dream of you still.

Your Calling

I only know how to lie I only know how to fall in love with you and your beautiful face and this heart yearns to bring my hands touching each inch of your skin and every strand of your hair you are beautiful and I fight against my mind not to look at you all the time but I fail always fail always looking always dreaming that you could be beside me saying my name like my name only belongs to you and your name is mine but I can’t we’re different we’re far apart we’re not supposed to be together and why do I love you when I know the love will destroy me why did I fall in love with you when you don’t know you never care your calling my name has all but a meaning because my name is never yours never yours to begin never yours to end with.

A Story of Hannah and Peter

Hannah looked at the giant watch mounted on the far west side of the station. Its face showed 11.54pm and the night train for Kerala would be departing in 6 minute. Her little fingers tapped her knees lightly as she searched for someone she was familiar with, but only the still cold night air and a tired-looking porter accompanied her.

"Perhaps Peter had been serious after all?" she thought. Their 2-month trip was peppered with fights and bickering. Peter would leave her for awhile, but normally he came back and sorted out their differences. This time, the wait was too long. Hannah absentmindedly crumpled her ticket. She didn't want to leave without Peter, and in her heart, a small tinge of hope assured her that her relationship with Peter would not come to an end.

In her mind, flashes of that incident played automatically. She could not fathom the reason of why she was being too selfish. Four years is too long for a wait, but was it enough for a bond that takes a lifetime?

Maybe she was wrong. Peter was right.

“Train will depart in two minutes. Two minutes.” The conductor said loudly, disengaging Hannah of her mind. Anxiety crept through her body – she must get out, she had to. Her heart pumped fast, adrenaline kicked in, and in split second, ignoring the heavy weight of her bag, she ran towards the door, trying to get out, only to be halted by the conductor. “Miss, you must stay. The train…”

“Don’t stop me!’ she said, shoving the pity conductor aside with full force, sending him tumbling to the ground. Hannah ran towards the exit, in her mind hoping that Peter would be there.

No. Peter was not there. Hannah eyes frantically looking for him and there he was, on the other side of the road.

“Peter, I’m sorry!” Hannah yelled.

Peter turned to her, gesturing his hand to form a heart shape and smiled that cute crooked shape that always been Hannah's liking. Peter seemed to forget it; maybe he thought Hannah needed a little more time. Peter immediately crossed the road. Everything’s going to be fine. Hannah thought.

The thing that happened next sent cold shiver down her spine. In a split second, a vehicle rammed Peter, and Hannah just stared – motionless, confused, and dazed amidst the commotion. There were too many sounds, too many sights, too many people; Hannah could only see one, lying in the middle of the street, in red.

The world began to look bleak, turned gray, and the last thing Hannah saw was the sky.

This is the story that Zell and I created during our LDV session so many years ago! To tell you the truth, our story was not supposed to end with a tragic incident, but the limit was 300 words. So, we had to do it anyway… Nyeheheh...
[Disclaimer: this is not the version that we presented in class. I edited it a bit.]

Sunday, 27 November 2016

Hello Again

The last time I wrote on this blog was a year ago… and then I left it to rot under the dust of the binary codes of the digital world. Guess in one year so many things have happened to me, both bad and good. I need positivity in my life. A chance to be a better man in everything that I do because currently, I’m feeling that I’m not doing my best I hope to change, but a hope is just a hope if there’s no action. If there’s one thing, I just wish to write again – write stories, poems, prose, anything. I used to love writing. I kind of lost it.

I need to get everything back.