Life Itself

Bubble wrap your memories And seal them in boxes. Then on each lonely, sad day, Unpack one box at a time. Watch those mistakes set against all the happiness Those regrets against those wins. Laugh, cry, belive and heal Slowly losing one day to nostalgia.  And then close the box and store it for another gloomy day.

Take a needle and run it through your every vein. Hold a pointed nail against a blackboard and hear the sound it makes. Fill your room with no water and feel every breath slip outside. Run the fastest you have and then watch the snake still in sight. Remove the broken pieces of glass and sense your legs paralyzed. Fall from that building and hit the hardest ground as you collide. Stand still in the darkest room and feel a hand touch your back. Imagine the worst smell, the shrekiest sound, the harshest light, the worst death. Let go. Move on.

As I sat with a bunch of the most random people at 5 am, it hit me just how my world has completely turned around in the last one year. I don't think I'll ever forget the fear of entering a room full of people, all eyes on me, with a bag, two hours late. As scared as I was back then, I suddenly feel more grown up, less scared and much more self assured. So what is my "google moment"? (thanks for the idea s Kapur). Its a close fight between you actually convincing me you were a terrorist, a bunch of strangers feeling like friends at the word go, never ending nights at 10d, sitting on the engineering guest house roof, cleaning houses obsessively, taboo sessions, two heartbreaks, finding out that 25 year olds can be even more fun than 21 year olds, being drunk dialed by a girl, Goa ghost story at 3 am, finding an older brother, non Googlers who knew more about google than I did, Rishikesh, Sri sailem, pondicherry, walks in office, walks to the fountain, walks for baski

What happens when you are disappointed so many times that you become resentful? How many let downs does it take before you become untouchable? When do heartbreaks cement your walls so high that no one can even see you? At what point does love seem more like a sport, a chase than a honest and real desire? Are we born into categories? Those that laugh when it hurts and those that break down? Those that care so deeply, they forget who they are and those that barely feel anything? Or does life lead us into the choices we make? What do you do when you know the space between human feelings and you is like a chasm? How do you cross the emptiness of selfishness and reach a point where you actually get attached? More importantly, do you?

I want to crack through your crevices. I want to understand your every little decision, put a finger on you every reaction. I want to be the reason you get up with a smile, the reason you can never sleep at night. I want to know each secret, laugh at private jokes and predict all your disappointments. I want to make you laugh so hard that you cry. I want to be the listener as you gush about your life. I want to be the talker who helps you feel better on a bad day. I want to be the last piece in your jigsaw, the last stroke in your masterpiece. I want to be your home, your safe place. I want to be the sudden sting that makes you drop everything. I want to be the butterflies in your stomach, the constant inexplicable desire, the most basic need. I want to be your favourite song under a moonlight night. I want to be the book that you wish never ends, the movie you have watched hundreds of times. I want to be that journey you 'll never forget, that picture which always make you smile.

There is something to be said about a vicious circle. Always starting differently, but ending the same way. When I reached the dead end, one more time, I knew I had a choice to make. I could choose to shut all doors, cut all lines of communication, raise those walls and run with all the air in my lungs. Or I could turn back and carefully retread that messy, painful and destructive path, one more time. I know I ran. I know I was an escapist and I know it was the right decision. Its almost amusing how all my life, my insane need to protect myself has made me the type of person who always runs, very very fast. Does that make me a coward? Maybe it does. Does that pain less? It most certainly does. So, I know there might be regret. I know there might be doubt. But I know that I'll be safe. And I know that safety will be enough.

Ice struck cold glance half hearted bold chance. Lead me on leave me back play your game defend and attack Enough said enough done make your move surprise and stun. One more story writ in stone another man down plenty, still to go.