Another One

She was far away from a good night sleep. Tossing and turning, she had spent almost three hours then, since she gave up the idea of sleeping that night. She slowly moved close to the adjacent wall, which always helped her through her darks. Her darks were just hers, maybe she liked them also. Is that why she had gloomy, dense curtains which she carefully tucked in to the corners of the large window so that it wouldn’t let anything bright reach her?

 

The long walk doesn’t seem to have exhausted her. She is walking, quite excited about what she was passing by on her sides. Her eyes voiced her in all possible ways. And they definitely were happy. Her toes were sore and she wore three sweaters. But her eyes were fixated on the white she saw on top. Clearly, she was obsessed.

 

The book rested on her table. Untouched, unread.

 

Tap. Tap. Tap. It was almost sunrise. In the middle of the road, they danced. No music. Her night dress, his recently shaven head, their sleepy faces or tomorrow (as you may call it) did not bother her sparkly eyes. She was laughing loudly. The boy was happy. But she forgets, that was her.

 

It was a letter. A pretty long one. After all, it was from her and so, it had to be long and boring. While skimming through it, I did not like it much. Oh, it was an e-letter by the way. No heading. But perfectly spaced. I knew every word of it, of course. But I did not like it at all, maybe? I think she wrote it long ago.

 

 

 

Approvals

I’ve been wanting to cut my toe nails since the past five and a half days. Did not do it. I wish I could reach my toe nails to just bite them off like I do with my fingernails. It is sad. It could’ve given me more substance to deal with work, in general. There is some leftover sandwich on the book stand. Do I have a headache? Is it because I am hungry?

The monkey on the book stand is supposed to shake its head all the time. I need the monkey’s approval. I think I should just go and nudge it to get its nod. But what use is that anyway. I think my toe nails are ugly. They are some weird beige color. Will it go if I wash them? Who knows?

I know what I want. Nail paint. Preferably black.

Just Delusions

Have you ever felt that you are a song? A song that somebody else penned, somebody else tuned.

Have you ever felt you are never in control of what you are, what you become or what you think?

Going with the flow is what everybody does. Nobody can stop the flow or steer against it. We all do what is expected. Sometimes unexpected is the expected and that is all. I sometimes wonder, we are all so similar. We share commonalities more than differences, if you think. But yet again, we fight.

Our endeavour on earth is all about fights. And who fails, calls it bad luck! So, what is this luck? Is it the expression that we use when we want to foresee something that is not under our control, just in case we are wrong?

Certainly, this luck is what we all call God.

I grew up to myself

 

I was a kid whose life was all about books. I recall the days when the smell of pages thrilled me more than that of my favorite food or the lovely scent of my new Nina Ricci perfume. I grew up with books; yes, I could GROW with them. Each book my mom gave me created unexplainable joy inside me and I read more, more and more.

I saw a whole new world through them. And I called it my world.

And after few years, I got flown away by the wind. And my world transformed into my then boyfriend, my social life, getting good grades and everything other than books. I was flying towards growing up. I ran to embrace my adulthood. My bookshelves got renovated into wardrobes and my books took up their space in one dusty corner of my storeroom.

I never looked back, neither did I regret, nor did I realize. I thought I was going with the flow and waited for being that strong, independent lady. I built a future where I was the heroine; in my head. I looked down to everything, to everyone. I searched for new horizons without even knowing what I was looking for.

While I was busy searching for knowledge, I overlooked my purpose and importance.

Recently, I went back home for holidays and while reconditioning my house, Mom had found my timeworn books. They were tired of silently calling me back to them. Mamma gave them to me and I saw the same old her there, who expected her daughter to be a brighter star than the sun. Her eyes led me to a whole new domain of knowledge. The following days went like a golden dream; a dream where I had real wings to fly.

The article on Wikihow on “3 things to do for fairer skin” or the advertisement which showed a couple purchasing gifts for Valentine’s Day did not distract me after that. I was very clear on how to grow up into myself.

I went back to where I stopped and then started from there again. And I am GROWING.

Picture courtesy: http://www.socialsciencespace.com/2012/02/post-phd-careers-plan-b-outside-of-traditional-academia/open-book/

 

Me? Who?

Fire inside, quest outside.

There is always curiosity.

Niyathi Renjith, aspiring journalist.