How is it to let go?

Letting go is never neat and clean. It’s always messy. It’s always a little dirty, a little ugly, a little destructive and self destructive. You don’t wake up one day, decide to let go, and let go of that particular thing all at once. It’s never like that. It has never been like that. You wake up one day, deciding to let go of it, and act accordingly. And then, following third day you sleep back holding on as tightly as you can. Letting go has never been very easy, it’s doesn’t occur in a consistent pattern. And this inconsistent pattern is really not romantically poetic or an art to adore.
The people out there telling you that they’ve mastered letting go of things, they’re bullshitting. You don’t let go of the same thing every time. And that’s why, the same plan of action of letting go doesn’t work every time. You face new struggles, you face new excuses and new issues. You become stupid during the process, you do stupid things. You destroy, you walk over things. You do things that are unimaginable on your part. You take steps ahead and back, ahead and back, and ahead and back. And then you, someday, reach your destination. Destination of unaffected emotions. Letting go is not that one-direction ladder that you imagine. It’s the slippery no-other-way-to-go staircase. You get hurt, but you get wiser too.


Excuses of pain

I try to find actions of bad consequences
Of ugly words in beautiful silences
I try to find any bad happenings
I try to find the happiness threatenings
I wish for departures, sickness or fall
I wish for appal or bad news calls
For at least I would have a reason to feel this way
To feel sad, lonely and just dismay
For it’s been so long, the bad has gone
But I’m still here, feeling so alone
Let there come an occurrence of bad
For then I wouldn’t have to wonder why am I feeling so sad
I’ll have a reason, I’ll have an excuse
To convince myself of all my blues
I wouldnt have to worry for my happiness going dead
Atleast I can then convince myself that my sadness is valid

My buddy

Sometimes I still need you, you know
Not on the darkest nights, but when the days glow
I’m strong enough now for my hard times
But sometimes I need you when my sun shines
Not to demand, not to complain
I won’t call you to talk about my pain
But when I’m happy, and everything is well
You’re sometimes still the first person whom I wish to tell
Happiness grows a million times, when it’s shared
I told everyone, no one I spared
But your absence was felt, heard and pained
My happiness sometimes was just remained
Hey I miss you, I genuinely do
Not because I’m alone, or just out of the blue
Trust me on this, I’m much stronger, not the old style
But sometimes I wish you were here, so I could show you my smile


You open your eyes for the first time, and you see species just like yourself, but somehow different. They all are you, made up of things which you are made up of, having things which you too have. And there you perceive, they’re all someones, in the end, they’re all just humans. Human beings. Human beings, so powerful yet so delicate, that they need to be valued with a realization, and respected without a purpose. That built up the basis of humanity, the building blocks of it you could say, that every human being needs to be given respect. But here, irony smirked. Respect should be earned, not given for free like you’re growing it in your own garden. Respect is not a charity for the needy.
Now, change your mind like it should. Open your eyes wider than it did for the first time. And smile like you’ve smiled never before.
Here, people don’t come and tell you they deserve to be respected, you assume it yourself, because of the species they belong to;human beings. And when they prove worthy of not gaining that respect, there shouldn’t be a room for a compain of disappointment from your side. They never in the first place asked to be respected.
Respect is not the love-at-first-sight token to give. It’s something you gradually gain for someone. Again, being unkind cannot call for an excuse. Be kind, be helpful. But don’t conclude on people too soon for having a beautiful soul. People have beautiful ways to let you down. Accept it, as many as there are good souls here, there are bad souls as well. And some souls really aren’t worthy of your respect. And then, you’re not a Santa to give away free tokens. Respect is something you earn. The only people who can afford it, truly get it.

Come back to yourself

Don’t walk that way baby, when you know it’s wrong

I know it’s hard to turn around, but that’s not where you belong

They’re demons inside, they’re not your friends

Turn back, maybe that’s where your path ends

Look at you, look at what you’ve turned out to be 

You’re someone whom you really didn’t want to be

This is not the real you, you’ve been dirtied with pain

You are a false change, but don’t worry, you will not remain

Get out of this, get out of this for yourself

Create another home, the most beautiful one, in yourself

Come back to who you were, come back safely

Just come back to yourself, baby

To the friend I lost. 

To the friend I lost,
Hi. I know you wouldn’t want to hear from me again, but maybe you’re the only I want to talk to right now.
We’ve kept fighting too much, and too often right from the start, but that’s how different our friendship was. We don’t speak for days, but we always come to each other after that. Why didn’t you come back this time?
I apologise for pushing you away, but that’s when I needed you the most. I came back to tell you that I’m not okay, but I guess it was too late for you to understand.
You were my friend, how could you just not understand?
The last time I spoke to you, you told me it was over, that we’ve ended our friendship. But why didn’t you realize, that it’s you who’s ended, I’m still holding on? I should’ve spoken back and told you it’s not over yet, but your words had weighed too heavy for me to stand back. 
I didn’t find it right for you to not be there when I was in my low phase, that’s when I shouted at you to come back. But instead, you walked away like I was nothing. You blocked me over all social media, and then your heart too. How could you do that so easily?
Should I say now that it’s all my fault for expecting too much from you? Or should I say that maybe you were a wrong person for me, who just couldn’t handle me at my worst?
I have been fighting with myself since you’ve gone. I have been feeling a little too lonely since you’ve gone. But maybe it’s all done from your side. I don’t know what’s right and wrong here, and there’s nothing more I can do even if I get to know. 
I’m sorry, for the last time. I thought I had the right, because you were mine. I hope you are well and happy, and I hope you always remain that. 
Just come back, if you can. I miss you too much.
I love you.
_Your friend.

Looking for a home

I wander around, and wonder along. Not the sort of wanderlust which seems, but more like a homesick person looking for his home. I sail among places, among people, among happy moments, only to find another home homely enough. Yet, as my energy drains out, I come back to rest, inside the house I own. What an irony it seems, that I lay on bed, wishing for a home to live in. Wishing for my home to live in, the home I found in my person. I don’t remember how far or close the day was, the day I got abandoned, but I remember how exactly I felt. There was nothing poetic about the pain. It was the sort of heartbreak, which felt impossible to recover from. It felt like the shelter above me was pulled away, like all the clouds turned grey altogether, like I was orphaned by my home. And since then, I feel homesick, terribly and achy. 

I see people around, like they’re the homes I’m not supposed to be in. I look into their eyes and see myself so alone. I feel their arms wrapped around me, and feel homelessness creep inside me. The more I wander, the more I realize that no person ever could replace the home I stayed in. Yet, I try to find something nearly homely, something livable enough. But I know, I know it too well by now, that I wouldn’t go to any other person, I wouldn’t want to find home in any other person ever. 

My home was all I had, all I’ve ever wanted, all I ever want back. My home was my person, just mine. But somewhere inside, I know I’ll never get back, and that’s the most painful thought I feel every day. It’s the kind of pain medicines cannot cure. It’s the kind of pain that creates permanent voids, which we fall inside from time to time, reminding us that we’re not okay, that we’re still not okay. 

Sometimes I wish not to see the next morning, not to wake up from sleep ever. For what for to wake up, when I don’t have my home to look forward to. Sometimes I wish the day doesn’t end, the clouds don’t turn dark, for the day might end, but I wouldn’t have my home to go back to.

Yet, there are times, I sleep in arms of other people, kiss their bodies and touch their souls, assuming they’re my home, so I don’t have to feel homesick anymore.