Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Love not that which sets.

What is this insane obsession I have with writing down all of my thoughts. As if they must be released. Somewhere, anywhere.

I love to walk back to the hostel after college. Little things catch my eye. Eye, ear, heart.

I missed a lecture to do some presentation work. Im in the canteen. Listening to Staind, im on the outsideee and im lookin in. Hardly a morning song but whatever. I've ordered Styrofoam coffee and digestive biscuits and im happy.

Its hard to let go of something that means something to you. Its harder to let go of it, prematurely.

Walked to the bus stop this morning. N made a map to help me navigate. I was fifteen minutes early so I leaned against a car, put my earphones in and read my book till the bus came. The sun was orange, the air was cold and the music uplifting.

I did not lose my keys all year. Lost two pairs of keys in the last three days. Came back to a locked room. Exhausted and hungry. I could wait at the hospital and see an amputation. But it was going to go on till late so I chose to come back instead. Looking forward to biryani, movie and bed. Don't have anything sweet in the room so powdered milk will have to do.

I feel like I'm everywhere and nowhere.

Dad called me late last night and he sounded quite active. I asked him if he was outside. He said yes me and your mom are outside eating halwa and its raining. I told him I missed home. We talked for a while. Before hanging up he said, btw its not raining. He's so cute it breaks my heart.

And this. ..Whoever is sunk in the depths of ignominy Calls his weakness contentment. Weakness is the plunderer of Life, Its womb is teeming with fears and lies. Its soul is empty of virtues, Its milk is a fattening for vices. O man of sound judgement, beware! This spoiler is lurking in ambush. Be not his dupe, if thou art wise: Chameleon-like, he changes colour every moment. Even by keen observers his form is not discerned: Veils are thrown over his face. Now he is muffled in pity and gentleness, Now he wears the cloak of humility. Sometimes he is disguised as a victim of oppression, Sometimes as one whose sins are to be excused. He appears in the shape of self-indulgence And robs the strong man's heart of courage.. (Iqbal)


Xeb said...

I always felt that blogging gave my thoughts validity. Some sort of real-ness that did not exist if I just thought-my-thoughts and then forgot about them. Truth-be-told, even though its been many months since I published a post, my brain (rather compulsively) thinks in blog posts now! :P

Ps: How've you been?

The Me. said...

Hahah I know the feeling. Very little of that actually ends up on here :p
I'm glad you wrote again though! Quite a hiatus you took there.

Maryam said...

I know exactly what you mean about wanting to write everything down. Can completely relate.