Triggered

Heaving, aching, exhausted
Yearning to have control, nay, not possible
Not over the world, I pray,
Just this tiny inconsequential thing
in the scheme of the universe
also known as
the heart

But how can that be?

Poison births life, it does
Even if only to kill
No, not kill, but strangle, carve out, control
Lift, only to shatter
Embrace, only to toss away
Support, only to withdraw
when over a chasm

Alone
Lone and lonely
I drift down down down
"Stop screaming, stupid!"
What's the point?

Meaning, meaningfulness, purpose
heavy words
I'm but an idiot
who gets triggered

"Snap out of it!"
Sure, your majesty.
Addictive? Egoistic? Perhaps.
Who knows what's real, what isn't.

To borrow from the bard,
"All the world's a stage,
and all the men and women merely players..."
So play shall I, be stupid, be the fool
And I shall snap out of it
And smile
And keep going
Because if life's a play,
The show must go one.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Is this Home?

I miss Dehradun . Labeling it as home-sickness wouldn't be fair. Because it isn't just my home that I miss, but the entire city, the air, the roads, the bakeries and most of all, the mountains. For around 24 years, every morning that I woke up, I would be greeted by the austere presence of the silent giants. Sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes gray, and innumerable mishmashed shapes in between... forever playing withe their misty companions, the clouds. In the summers the peaks would turn grey, and there would be no sight of clouds. The vivid blue sky would provide a stark contrast to the heat wave beneath. The breeze would transform into, what we call, the loo - which in the vernacular lingo means hot wind, not the restroom! And the mountains would stand stoically day in and day out. At nights however, one could often see the stark lines of forest fires in the distance, as if the heat really did become unbearable for the rocky giants and they are venting their f
Read more

Speaking of dropping names...

It is difficult to let go of something, of which one is perversely proud. I have often come across people who, when asked where do they belong to, gently, but proudly slip their caste into the answer.  "No, I don't belong to Bangalore. I am a Kumauni Brahmin", or, "Oh! We have to be very particular about the match. We are Saryupani Brahmins you see..." and so on so forth. Yes, I admit, only Brahmins, and occasionally Rajputs, proclaim their caste with such impunity, at a day and age when casteism is looked down upon, at least by the educated and the 'informed'. Honestly, I find this attitude thoughtless and embarrassing. What do you expect your audience, who perhaps is not a Brahmin or a Kshatriya (the so-called higher castes) to say? Something like, "Oh I understand. Fortunately I am a Shudra so I can marry whichever kind gentleman comes my way."? I can understand that people take pride in their roots. But is it really necessary to an
Read more

I don't find that funny

A chance conversation with my mother yesterday brought up an interesting, and potentially important, issue. I had asked her if she enjoyed watching 'Three Idiots', and was surprised by her negative critique. Amongst other points, to which I don't agree to, she complained about the thoughtless usage of the word ' balatkar' which is the Hindi word for 'rape'. I am a 21st century woman living in one of the most cosmopolitan cities of India. I am a liberal and broad minded non-feminist, and can digest a good joke, even when it's on me. Though I don't agree with my mother often, in this case I have to admit that she is correct. My mother said that 'balatkar' is one of the few words, that cannot be used in just any context. It carries a lot of weight and many serious connotations. 'Balatkar' - The word generally elicits deep emotions such as shock and pain. The word conveys the alleged victim's misfortune, the sense of being viola
Read more