Grid View
List View
Reposts
  • fallen_42 3d

    How depression feels like

    It is a hot summer afternoon. You are sitting in your room, sweating and cursing the heat. Everyone is doing the same but somehow it is making you angry, this heat and the silence of people about it. It feels like only you are the one feeling it. You get up and drink water kept in refrigerator and just for a while you feel at peace. The same kind of peace that you get on having a full meal after you have fasted for an entire day. You think you were being stupid all this while. All you needed was iced water. You with a new found energy now get ready to carry on the tasks because they are required of a human being. You keep sitting and sleeping, and you get compared to an animal. So you decide to clean your room. By this time the heat has started to get in your skin again. You ignore it. You just had ice-cold water. This can't be it. But slowly the heat starts bothering you again. And you see that everyone around you is either asleep or carrying their work casually. Does this heat not affect them, you question yourself. Is it because I am too sensitive or do I not have the tolerance towards it? You start doubting yourself. It makes you confused, all these questions and the increasing room temperature. You meet one of the people and ask," hey how's the weather?" And he replies nonchalantly," it's good, tolerable. I completed the construction of my new kitchen". You feel shocked, surprised even. You are compelled to ask,"in this hot weather, how?" And he says," what are you talking about?" You get agitated, try to explain yourself," it is too hot to work. I couldn't even clean my room." And the person laughs, nods his head and walks away while saying," it's summer, do you expect it to snow". You are now convinced, the fault has always been in you. You were far too sensitive. You were the only one who thought it was getting too much. So you start working, even when your head spins, even when your mouth feels dry, even when your anger rises steadily. You become the part of the silent crowd. You try to feel normal. You think silence is the key to normalcy. But what about the heat? Nobody teaches you how to manage it. They just say, you don't have a choice because it's the weather. Depression is the never ending summer heat. But you clean your room nonetheless. Yet one day when it gets too much, you think of swimming, afterall there is nothing a good swim can't resolve. You swim, but the thought of facing the heat overwhelms you. You try to drown, hold your breaths as you sink lower and lower in the swimming pool or lake or sea. Nobody extends their hand for you to hold. You take it as a sign. Maybe this is what God wants too. So you stop flapping your hands. You die. The report says asphyxiation. Water in lungs. But nobody mentions the heat. Nobody ever mentions the heat. And summer continues as if it just didn't claim a life.
    --- mausam kesa hai?

  • fallen_42 5d

    We are our mothers' denial
    And our fathers' high hopes
    We are the violence of huge expectations
    And even larger failures
    When we walk
    Our mothers look at us with hopeful pride
    While our fathers shrink a little
    Sometimes when I dare to think about my own presence
    I remember with guilt, the first bite of food that I eat because my mother works early.
    And my father has worked all his life
    This guilt is a rebellion
    Of children who are afraid to say that they need love
    By love, I mean a sense of being complete
    Even when we aren't
    By this I mean not all the children need to be achievers to claim their space
    Space which comes with a warning firsthand
    Warning that whispers in their ear for as long as they can remember
    A subtle sound of regret
    A wailing cry of hopelessness
    Like a brain auto tuned to think the worst of itself
    We are the generation which carries despair and trauma
    Cry in our four walled rooms when nobody is looking at us
    Listen music on high volumes even when our lives fall like debris of an old building
    We rear diseases that nobody sees
    And spend half of the times convincing that we infact are suffering
    But nobody sees that suffering is intangible
    No doctors are empathetic enough to carry the burdens of their hippocratic oath
    So they describe medicines
    To trigger our happy hormones
    Which our fathers give us at morning and night
    Thinking how it's just a matter of one thought gone wrong
    We live on freedom as if it is a gift given to us on our eighteenth birthday
    We are told this exactly as many times when we reach our twenties
    And by thirties we are doing what our fathers wanted all along
    A man becomes his father, they say
    But we have been escaping our parents ever since
    For they didn't tell us that we would soon turn into disappointments
    So we take the medicines
    That suppress our emotions
    Carry on with our lives as if nothing could tame us
    We become the millenials who survive on dark humor and "we don't talk much" cool kids.
    Until one day we become the parents we had promised to never be
    And pass on the trauma
    In the name of enlightenment

  • fallen_42 1w

    I need a friend

    I need a friend, I keep screaming
    And people extend their hands
    I deny saying no, not you.
    They leave forever
    And I become lonely again
    I have lost so many people in the process
    Because they were not you
    They didn't call me the way you did
    In midst of the night
    Saying how you were hungry and didn't want to get up
    They didn't roll their eyes on my stupid jokes
    Neither did they turn to hug me the way you did
    From a distance and a nonchalance
    That always made me question if you really loved me or not
    I need a friend, I am dying to have a friend
    But when they come to me with their warm open embraces
    I stand frozen
    Not knowing
    How to accept this love
    When all my life I was the rejected one in a group of four
    Least liked one
    The ugly one
    The not so tomboyish or girlish
    Neither did anyone ask me about me from you
    But you laughed together with them
    I need a friend, I cry
    And realise all this while I was asking to relive that trauma again
    But when you came
    Saying everything in a perfect tone
    I surrendered
    And believed that maybe I was worthy of little
    Little that you did
    And I flew across the skies
    Happy, shouting, declaring that maybe this was how it was supposed to be
    Friendship was maybe a one way road
    Where I gave too much and you gave whatever was left
    I need a friend, I remind myself again
    With your absence by my side
    Slowly fading into a shadow of someone I never knew
    I need a friend, and you see how this poem is written about you
    I need a friend, you become happy for the power you hold over me
    I need a friend, you smirk at my helplessness
    I need a friend, you move on as if I was a trashcan and you were someone with stomach too full
    I need a friend, and I turn around to face you
    I need a friend, no I don't mean you this time.

  • fallen_42 1w

    Mango icecream

    I have always wanted little things
    Which can carry me back home
    Small mile stones
    Like fragrance of an unripe mango
    Or that pickle maa makes
    Sometimes baba makes daal
    And maa cheers the loudest for him

    People, places and poetry
    Always make for a good story
    But lately as the world sleeps to the noise of wails and cries
    My mothers decides to make mango icecream
    She cuts the mangoes in half, pour some milk and elaichi
    As she calls me again and again to have a taste of it
    She says, we as a family of four are enough
    Even on the days my loneliness tears apart my skin
    And makes a home out of my withering body
    She believes that being alive is an act of faith
    And to still get through the day is an act of heroism

    I see names everywhere
    Some on the winner's list
    Some on the friend's Instagram stories saying they miss each other
    Some on the death certificates
    And some in beginning their new lives all in a span of this miniscule time
    But I don't see my name anywhere
    I am neither a winner nor a loser
    Baba tries to comfort me by saying that the best he can do is to keep his family alive at a time when government is hiding behind the bushes of religious intolerance in the midst of a pandemic
    But I focus more on the mango icecream kept in the freezer
    Because doctors are now recommending to stay away from the news
    So I do what I do the best to prevent myself from feeling guilty
    Survivor's guilt is a privilege too
    But I don't accept it
    Rather I convince myself that
    Sometimes it's in making mango icecream
    That the biggest act of hope reveals itself
    Especially in times like these
    When the world shows solidarity in grief.
    You see home made ice creams donot melt too easily
    They have always been made to sustain the wrath of heat
    My maa says she is doing the same
    She is just trying to give reason for us to prolong our survival
    Now who can blame a mother?

  • fallen_42 1w

    You wouldn't notice and I wouldn't ask you to. The thing with friendship like ours is we promise not to care. And whatever happens we are good at keeping bad promises. You are happy in your own world, the same world where your lover and you kiss for the first time. The same world which is full of light for you blinds my eyes and I know you will never find that out. How can you when you don't even ask how am I? This is not even friendship but a compromise where you settle for less, by less I mean myself. I keep screaming for help and you very proudly ignore as if you have never needed it once in your life. But if words have power, let me use them as magic spells and say one day when you realise that I was a good friend all along, I hope you call me this time, texts are too cliché for a generation that claims that they don't talk to anyone. I hope you call me and say that you would like having a friend, I hope you fall in love with me the moment I say no and spend your entire life thinking where you went wrong. You have always been good at pretending that nothing bothers you but I pray that one day you find enough courage to throw this facade off. Who are you trying to impress by the way? Your lover for being too put together or people like me so that we think twice before asking for help? Let these words be the final prayer of which I never got to be the part of anyway. A prayer that asks you to never promise anything to anyone. Bad promises are easier to keep but good ones need effort and efforts are never too much to ask for from the right person. I hope one day you become the right person for someone so wrong that you end up doubting yourself.

  • fallen_42 1w

    You say dying is never political
    That dead can only be labelled as dead
    And not collateral damage of any government
    By government I mean failing
    By failing, I mean death
    By death I mean this system
    But this system doesn't work anymore.
    "Dont be a cry baby" they say
    As they hoard breaths for standby
    And go out killing the innocent
    This is a murder, I scream
    And you hand me the last wishes of those who wanted to live
    "This is a pandemic, you can't blame anyone" you tell me with apathy as apolitical as you
    And I remind you of all the days
    When crematoriums became overburdened
    And dalits chanted the last verses for you were too scared to touch your own loved ones
    I remind you of the religions
    All sleeping right under the feet of your biased God
    Helping the rich by living longer
    Where does the poor die
    When a nation turns into a burning ground, a grave
    Where your hands should be pure to bid goodbye one last time
    When ignorance becomes escape
    And you take one good ride across the town.
    Don't you see we are living on the loaned lives
    Lives they don't care about
    Lives which are threatened for speaking the truth
    National security,they call it
    But when people become danger
    Does government really meant to protect nation or itself?
    The questions keep piling and so do the bodies of people who voted for good days
    But when you ask for it
    You are told to lower your voice
    Dying is not political
    As long as dead don't demand justice
    But here look at the ghosts of people
    Standing in lines
    Waiting for truth
    Was it really a tragedy?
    A situation gone out of control?
    Does death ever demand opening of hospital files
    Which say the cause to be low oxygen levels
    Or was it the only way this government could come out clean off all the blood on their hands?
    You see dying is not political
    As long as burning pyres don't melt down under the pressure of uncountable deaths

  • fallen_42 2w

    Help

    When the world around is silent
    Do you even make noise to let them know that you are still here
    This deafening loneliness that curses me
    A voodoo doll of infinite misery
    I wonder if it is a praise when someone says that I am too silent now a days
    Isn't the world too?
    I look for hope
    One more reason to continue
    When everyday life speaks mundane depression
    That carries me like a child
    And I sleep on its lap for escape
    The lake at a distance from my home
    Is so still
    No ripples of time or sun wakes it up
    From its utter meditation
    It is still like blue and death
    Green and spring
    Yellow and summer afternoon
    And I can't help but think about walking on water
    I mean someone has to take the baton to jolt the world back into its hustle bustle.
    But who will?
    I can't wake up
    And neither does God
    Where are all the prayers disappearing?
    In these four walls of home
    I feel as if they watch me
    My room no more a room
    But a stage and these lifeless ceiling, walls, a noisy cooler
    My spectators
    I dance for them sometimes
    And play dress up the others
    But nothing about this room screams home
    Nothing about this world screams home
    We indeed were made to be lonely
    Or how else can you explain the distance between atoms
    Their interaction, a lover's touch
    Their separation, an annihilation
    So tell me where do I go
    If not on an adventure that asks me to jump off a cliff
    Without blinking my eyes
    And call it a destiny
    A messed up fate
    A dead man's wings
    A living man's attempt at dying
    --- I want to be at home, i am tired of screaming for help

  • fallen_42 2w

    It's in times like these that one must hope, said my mother. "Let it be a rebellion. A revolution."
    Let hope become a weapon, be a warrior yourself. But how must one not succumb to such profound sadness, sadness which comes in waves like wild sea trying to engulf whatever tries to fight it, I asked her. She got up and asked me to stand too, played her favorite song and sang to its tunes, abhi na jao chorr kr ki dil abhi bhra nahi. She swayed gently as if wind itself was moving her, slowly, with such calm on her face and a smile that played on her lips as if flowers about to bloom. I looked at her. Her face now showed wrinkles from aging too fast. Along the eyes and the cheeks. She indeed was getting old, a truth that I had never accepted until my 23rd birthday. She said,as she danced,"you see it was when there was dark, that man found light". It wasn't hope she was asking me to have all along. But a trial at hoping. Dance, she said. And I danced, learning that in times like these which consume one completely like a tiger feeding on its prey alive, that one must never sit still. So I danced. I danced too loud, too wild. And then a dream came crawling to my feet. Dream I dared not sleep over. Dream which convulsed on not being seen. Dream which demanded attention. Dream which whispered "love" gently and I knew what mother talked about all this while. Love, at its best saved. And now people were trying. To hope. To love. To witness each other through eyes that looked at grief, without flinching and said,"do you want to come home?"

  • fallen_42 2w

    Sometimes God reminds me why it is important to be human
    Why all the things that go wrong must be ignored
    Or else you lose the power over yourself.
    Sometimes blaming God is easier than blaming self
    All the suffering is God's fault
    Because I am scared if I write about system
    It will catch me red handed
    By red handed I mean with its own bloodied hands
    By blood, I mean silence
    By silence, hush I don't mean anything
    I donot.
    I donot
    I donot.
    I am blaming God
    And justice
    With its blindfolds
    Because system doesn't have eyes, it says
    And there is not enough light anyways
    I am blaming God
    Because system says it believes in God too
    Everything is God's will
    All these cries
    And fires in overburdened crematoriums
    Don't you see dead are waiting for their turns?
    This isn't system's fault
    This is mine
    Yours
    For system is ruled by God willing people.
    And this is what happens
    When you blame God too much
    He gives you his own power
    And asks you to rule
    There are enough God fearing people to tell you exactly that
    System doesn't want to be named as government
    Because system says it's you, me
    The onus is on all of us
    For the people gasping for breaths
    Beds
    Fire
    System doesn't want to be named
    Because when system fails
    It comes looking/hunting for people
    Who whispers the only God's name
    When system collapses
    And breaths become numbered
    It's not government who may one day chase us away
    Put us behind bars in the name of national security
    Because system loves nation
    God loves his nation
    But this time one God unites all
    Against him

  • fallen_42 3w

    I sat on the terrace
    Looking at the teal blue lake
    Not still this time
    Like my aching mind
    But if I had to choose a way to die
    I would rather walk on water
    Than jump off the building that my father proudly calls home.
    Nobody should see their own home become a ghost
    I am kind that way
    Always looking out for people
    As they look out for those who matter to them
    But on a sad day
    If you tell me you want to die
    I will rather build a bridge
    And reach where your heart hurts
    I donot mean to fix people
    But show them where the sun shines
    For aren't we all faulty compasses
    Saying polar star is where our love resides.
    Look how love saves us
    From writing a poem that talked about dying
    To finally write about love
    Is somehow an act of courage you see
    When all you see around is people dancing
    While you constantly make songs out of your grief
    Screaming
    Nobody's is going to save me
    No hero is wasting his time to save me
    No princess is telling her prince to save me
    No queen is getting off that chair to save me
    It still isn't compassion you know
    When you choose a few suffering
    Aid them as they dangle through a thin thread called hope and call it friendship
    It still isn't empathy
    When you actively turn a blind eye towards those
    Who don't fit your style of grieving
    But hey this is not a poem about saving
    Where was I
    The teal blue lake
    And the empty terrace
    Sun hidden behind the mountains
    And a clothline with bedsheet fluttering in wind
    Like a penguin who wishes to fly.
    But none of you cares
    And it shows anyway
    So I give a chance to my lonely life
    And call it a story instead worth mentioning.