Stare at your own eyes ?

And the longer you look, the more sadder your own face becomes.

You remember the person who laughed without thinking, who spoke in baby voices, who found joy in the smallest things.

Somewhere along the way, that person quietly left..

Maybe not all at once. Maybe little by little, bit by bit..

Now all that's left is the most barren self of yours…

So you keep staring…

Until your eyes begin to fill and your brows begin to fold.

And then you cry.

You cry, and you cry, and you cry, as though every tear is mourning….

Maybe that's the amount of sadness I carry right now ….

I hope August is kind and happy and hopeful. Not just to me, but to everyone I love.

I hope this month brings gentle days and gentle miracles.

I have always carried a belief that my birthday month carries a little magic. Maybe that's a childish belief, but I think I'll keep it in me forever.

The months behind haven’t been so kind to me. I have stumbled, stayed, searched for answers, and met the most barren version of myself.

There wasn't much left to hide and that’s the fear we all live in.

This month, I want to create more and laugh more.

I want to collect little moments instead of the heavy ones.

And if this month has any magic, then I hope it comes dressed up as glitters and sparkles.

I hope the glitters and sparkles fall on the parts of my heart that have been hurting.

I hope the sparkles remind me that light still exists.

I hope it all brings peace.

Maybe, just maybe, by the end of August, the pain should disappear completely.

But, even if it won’t, it shouldn’t be the loudest thing inside me anymore.

Happy Birthday month to me and all the August born.

The room is dim and I'm lying across the sofa, legs stretched out.

Just did a little clay mask thing to feel good.

The music is quietly filling the space.

And then this weird thought finds me.

And the words come out of my mouth, “Somebody loves somebody. And nobody loves nobody.”

What an absolute melancholy !

So tonight, I lie here, listening to the songs that understands me better than I do.

And I wonder how that somebody can love nobody…

A world is full of unbearable loneliness and, only that heart can understand which wakes up at 3 am and it wants to finds someone to speak to, who can be there and just help that heart to fall asleep…

Like all the way asleep..

Sometimes I wonder how much pain a human being is meant to carry.

Every morning, I wake up with a new emotion. My heart goes in spiral, searching for answers, I know, I cannot ask for anymore.

It keeps hoping that tomorrow will feel different, yet every tomorrow brings another kind of waiting and yearning.

The yearning. The crying. The endless questions. The desperate moments when you ask your own heart to stop hurting.

Some days, you get up and on a very random day, you want the heart to stop the pain. The pain of everything.

Maybe none of it is wasted. Maybe it is all witnessed by God.

Maybe the stars are still fighting and finding their places. Maybe one day… one fine day, the universe will finally be ready to answer the questions my heart keeps asking….

Until then, let me carry the pain.

Tonight, my head aches from this cold, but even more from the spiral of emotions, I cannot put down.

The world has gone into an eclipse.

And all I can do is hope that, this eclipse is over soon….

How deeply do you have to belong before you finally feel belonged ?

What does it mean to belong in someone's world ?

And what does it mean to belong to yourself ?

Sometimes I feel like I don't even belong to myself anymore.

Sometimes I wonder if the only thing left to do is surrender myself to God, because maybe I was never meant to belong to myself.

And then there are nights when I fall asleep with a quiet thought, that maybe belonging is all we have ever been looking for.

Every human being, in one way or another, is simply craving for the feeling of being held somewhere or by someone or even their own.

I don't know why. I don't know what for. But the longing remains.

So many thoughts passed through my mind, yet the clock told me only two minutes had passed by.

Maybe time doesn't belong to anyone.

And perhaps, for tonight, neither do I.

Another day has passed by.

I had so many things in my mind today. I wanted to do so much, but somehow, I ended up doing almost nothing.

These days feel so strange. I wait for the morning to come, and before I know it, I'm waiting for the night again. I don't know when this cycle will end. I don't even know if it should or not.

It is dark outside, and I'm just... waiting.

Waiting for what, or for whom, I don't know. Maybe I'm waiting for something to change. Maybe I'm waiting for this pain to hurt a little less. Maybe I'm waiting for my heart to feel nothing but something, but not everything.

Or maybe I'm simply waiting for nothing.

Don't know what for, but maybe it has quietly settled in the sea of love and hopes and joy and life.

When I was a kid, I used to look at the people and think that they might have evenings where they might be living and enjoying life.

And now, look at me. Look at you. And look at us.

Are we actually even living ?

Or are we just waiting for the evening to settle?

Or are we even just waiting for the heart to settle like the evening?

Last night, my world went in eclipse and there were dreams of heaviness all around. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I keep catching myself whispering the same sentence that I’m a bad person.

But what does that even mean ? Do anyone has any answer for it ?

Does it mean I’ve hurt people ?

Or does it mean I’ve been hurting myself for far too long ?

The evening has begun to settle outside my window, the clouds aren’t visible clearly in Delhi’s blurry sky, but the emotions inside me haven’t settled yet.

They’re still loud, still searching for somewhere to rest. I keep waiting for the day they’ll finally leave the door of my house when I won’t call myself a bad person anymore. Maybe I won’t even need to call myself a good person. Maybe it’ll be enough to simply believe that I’m human… doing humane things, someone who is trying, stumbling, making mistakes, loving imperfectly, and learning how to be gentler with herself and the world.

I don’t know if this will make sense to anyone after reading it. Maybe it isn’t supposed to.

After all, aren’t we all escaping something while chasing something else ?

Perhaps this is just one of those evenings where I’ve all the questions without any answers.

One day, I’m instinctively placing an order for two without thinking and believing that some routines and relations are too familiar to even disappear.

Then the world quietly goes in an eclipse and rearranges itself, and before I even know it, I’m learning to live within a setup I never chose.

I casually smiled and ordered, “One Tiramisu latte please.”

It came with a little tiramisu finger resting on the cup and for a brief moment, it felt like I hadn’t ordered for just one after all.

The world is so strange that it convinces you to find a company in the smallest gesture like a tiny piece of cake because there are so few people left to sit across with.

So I watched the coffee lose its warmth while the cafe was filled with conversations that obviously belonged to someone else.

And before the coffee could finish me, I finished it.

We sat there all afternoon, too heavy to become words, too tender to disappear.

So I let the day unfold differently.

A slice of poppy seed cake and two cappuccinos.

Perhaps that’s all some days ask of us, not recoveries or perfect explanations but a warm cup and enough gentleness to make it through another evening, and upcoming evenings.