Musings of an unapologetic introvert

the transitional friends (1)

the corridors that once echoed with our voices,
o’ look how quiet they seem now,
this place is but a forlorn page in my book of memories,
but you, oh you are the shining stars,
that drown the entire book in your light,
you were friends, sent to me by Allah,
you were a blessing, my darlings,
my silver lining in the clouds.

Sometimes, at odd times actually, I miss my people. The ones that always stood by me, the ones who always lifted me up, the ones that were my safe space, my comfort zone. As I am writing this, I am wondering who these people actually are. It’s hard, you know, to keep up with the changing dynamics of friendships. The void I feel is of a feeling. One that assured me that I did not have to hide, I did not have to pretend and I could just be me. The feeling of being appreciated, of being listened to. I miss being able to agree to disagree, I had not realised until now that having respectful conversations with someone is rare. I had that with my people. I still do but I don’t see them often. I really miss them tonight. I am tired of holding up on my own. I wish I could sit outside the common room and sing songs with them or have a deep conversation on the benches. I wish I could talk about my dream in the car while going home, I wish we could all get together just one more time and I could experience that distinct feeling again. Like I was not standing against them to be scrutinised but beside them as one of their own.
just a lil note for all of them: I have new friends now but they are not what you were, my old friends also weren’t what you guys were, you, my special darling friends, my transitional friends, you live in my heart. You made me love myself and I shall always love you for that.

between self & study

“**When one’s mental health falters, no one sees the ache, the pain, but when one’s gpa drops, the world hears the noise, like a bombshell dropped on a fairy meadow, damaging it beyond recovery**“

I had never realised how important academic validation was for me, until I lost it. I struggle day & night, to get full marks on an assignment, a quiz or maybe a presentation; anything, that’ll boost my self morale. My self esteem varies according to my gpa. I feel insulted whenever i get marks on or below average. I am ashamed of admitting that I am struggling with a course. In a class of 300, why am I not the one who is getting it all? Why am I not the one with their life sorted? Why can I not party & still ace my exams? Does it have to be so hard all the time?
I feel tired. Exhausted. I go through a burn out every other week; trying to catch up with the others, trying to remain in the top league. And failing so many times. Hiding my paper so no one would know I was stupid or struggling except me. With tears blurring my vision, fatigue clouding my mind, I put a smile on my face, push my chin up & pretend like it’s all ok. I’m acing it. When I know I’m not, I know I am crumbling inside, I know I am shattered, I need rest, I need to sleep. But I’ll be out of the race if I stop. I’ll be a loser, a quitter. My gpa will drop & the world will know. It will be too embarrassing. So I keep being hard on myself. I keep pushing myself. I keep trying & failing & it’s not a good feeling. It hurts. Tell me, am I cruel or is it the system?
You see, when one’s mental health falters, no one sees the ache, the pain, but when one’s gpa drops, the world hears the noise, like a bombshell dropped on a fairy meadow, damaging it beyond recovery.

the grey & the golden

You know, I sometimes think places have people attributes. They can be kind or unkind, warm or outrightly cold, they can comfort you, heal you, brighten your day. They can also make you cry, and elevate your pain. They can be your friends, or acquaintances or even enemies. You have memories attached to them. They don’t stay forever, they are, but a brief part of your journey & yet, they can mean so much. You can miss them so much. On a forlorn day, when the rain outside makes you feel even more miserable, you’d miss how the raindrops splattered on your head everytime you passed a tree or the puddles you’d encounter on the road leading to the cafeteria. On tired nights when you cry yourself to sleep, you’d miss the quiet, peaceful recluse that the pillars of your university provided. When the sky looks particularly beautiful, you’d miss taking photographs of it with the ivy covered red bricked building in the background. They wave at you every morning, “I missed you, how are you”, oh the beautiful kind places.
But oh places can be cruel too. They can make you feel unwelcome with their whitewashed stern walls and tough wooden chairs, the rain makes puddles so big, you have no place to walk, the loneliness there haunts you, only you. The bare branches of the trees seem to guffaw everytime you’re humiliated. Every morning, its like the place is passing snide remarks, whispering, asking me to leave, “you don’t belong here”, oh the mean, unkind places.
Places are just like people, though never acknowledged enough, never criticised enough. Overlooked, but never completely forgotten.

a fork in the road

One of the most painful things in this world is to see two people who are dearest to you, hurt each other. And you can’t call either one wrong because you know no one is wrong. One is the cause, yes, but when no one sides with him, you want to. When no one speaks for him, you want to. When everyone complains about him, you want to recognise his struggles. You see his tired eyes, you want to console him, you want to be the source of his happiness.
And then you look across & see the other, your brain tells you you’re ungrateful for not siding with her, you feel ashamed, you can’t look her in the eye, you know she has struggled too, you know she has suffered too, you feel her pain, you move towards her but mid way you stop, you look back. And you stand still. Who does one choose? No one, I say. A tiny part of me wishes to remove all their pain, to make them happy & proud & content.. And another part of me, the impractical yet dominating one, feels like the rotten arm; take me away & everything will be ok.

an instance of return

It’s been ages since I last posted here. I was very regular back when I started, probably because it was a tough phase & I needed an outlet-an escape. When the clouds of sorrow passed, I forgot about this, I stopped writing. Somehow happiness is not as intense as sorrow is. It’s not felt as much, it’s never too much to handle. Happiness; you can never get enough of it. And sorrow, even the tiniest bit is enough to pierce your heart, to transform you into something totally different. And you know, contrary to popular belief, you never heal from it, no amount of bliss will remove the shards of misery stuck in your heart. Somehow, one way or the other, the wounds will be uncovered one day, & the heart will bleed again. And again. Maybe its someone’s casual words, or actions or maybe you’ll open your old diary & read the pages & realise how unbearable it once was. How much pain your past self endured. And yet, look. Look how far you have come. You made it. Through it all.

How do you redefine yourself when everyone around you perceives you as your predefined self?

Virtual School: (a narration)

I felt like reflecting over this strange new world of online classes so please hear me out: We have classes on Zoom now because of Covid’19 & its so hard to adjust to be honest. I see my math teacher trying to teach us, while holding the phone in his hand for an entire hour so we can see what he’s teaching clearly; I see him put the phone down for a minute after every 15 minutes saying “beta mera haath thakk gaya mei zara rest dai doo ussay”(translation: students, my hand is tired, lemme give it a little rest), I see him teach us without turning on the fan even though the heat is scorching just so the sound of the fan won’t disturb us.
I see my chemistry teacher, who refuses to cooperate with us, always schedules the classes at odd timings (for example at 11pm), who takes way too many classes in a week, who is probably nobody’s favourite; I see him teach us for 2 hours straight without realising we have other classes to attend; I see students entering his class on zoom with false names and disrupting the class, I see his helplessness , I see him go quiet and wait for the intruders to leave and then with a sigh say “beta mei nai haar maan lee aap sai”(translation: I surrender), the teacher who intimidated everyone at school, he surrendered to the intruders; I see him and I think that even though i hate his classes, I dont like seeing him this way.
I see my Computer Science teacher who doesn’t give too much homework, nor too many assignments, who waits for everyone to join the class on zoom before starting, who unmutes our mics every now and then to ask if we’ve understood what she taught us; I see her update us about the current situation at school and all the decisions of the admin.
I see my physics teacher who has two young kids who keep bothering her while she tries to teach us; I see her try to be a mother and teacher both at the same time, I see her try to cooperate with us as much as possible by extending deadlines, coordinating class timings with us and recording lectures so no one misses out.
I see them all. Then I see myself. I see me trying to explain to two teachers that their classes are clashing but neither one wants to change their class time. I see me do assignments everyday, i see teachers assigning twice as much amount of work as in school. I see myself balance my life at home along with this online school, quietly taking classes instead of explaining to teachers that I am disturbed, I cannot handle as much work. I see me get frustrated because I have trouble understanding what teachers are teaching online, i see me trying and hoping and fighting.
I see that I’m fighting. Even though I’m privileged; so much more privileged than so many people but I’m still fighting. And I know, so are my teachers. Because this is a battle where we all are together. One unit. United.

Reconnect

*the night sky*
*a vast blanket*
*with white sequins*
*staring back at us*
*lift your neck and look up*
*the soaring foam of clouds*
*the dazzling beaded stars*
*a sight that’ll take you places*
*in a moment.*

During this period of social distancing, I’ve tried to reconnect with nature. Every night, on the rooftop I look up at the clear black sky, once fogged with smog; the stars, that were once hidden behind the smoke – a souvenir of the various human activities- and in the silence of the night, when I close my eyes, I almost hear the Earth sighing with relief. After all these years of being drenched in the mess that we have caused, I finally hear the Earth breathe.
Turns out, unsurprisingly, the lockdown of humans is nature’s liberty.

lockdown

Its as if the world has taken a break
People have locked themselves in their homes
Roads and malls stand, isolated
The schools that rang with children’s laughter
Now are empty eerie buildings.
There is terror all around
Of a thing unseen, but heard of.
Like a plot of a movie
A mere handshake with the wrong person
May result in your death.
In this time of difficulty
Lets stand, unite and fight together
And once this is over
May we never again
Take a handshake for granted.

let’s meet happy

I go through everyday
A range of emotions
But I’m waiting
For the day when this voice
Inside me
Will whisper
there you go darling,
Your happy is here.

خوشی: (translation: happiness)
Happy- adj (feeling or showing pleasure or contentment)
I read a book once, it was called “this is what happy looks like”. Since then I’ve been wondering what happy would look like to me. Have i ever come across it? If happy and I collided, would i find it familiar or foreign?
To everyone, happy looks different. To some, it is contentment, to others it is the feeling of having spent a busy, productive day. Some find happiness in love, some in passion.
I think to me, happy is a moment. That one fleeting moment when you are at the top of the world. That moment, after which comes a steep fall. That moment when you forget all sorrows, all fears, its just you and your happiness.
So tell me, what does happy look like, to you?