Sometimes its hard to look into yourself and accept the pricking conviction that you're just existing because you feel failed. Is that the truth, Are you falling down everytime you fail or are you just getting stronger. The later speaks loud, it's not how many time you fail, its your determination to still dream of that life you wanted. Because failures only teach you to modify your desires and designs and strengths your faith a lot more.
We don't get everything what we wanted. But , we can atleast get inspired looking at that far away dream and keep hustling. And one thing to remind ourselves is that, there is no answers for a little things in your life, it's not a mystery but a sheer truth. Stay happy and poised with all that blessing you've because someone doesn't have that.
You are unique in your own way, not every experience you go through is same for all, everybody has their own emotions and feelings. So before you judge another person, stand in his shoes and walk around. Similarly, when you are judged by someone have the wisdom to realize it's their perspective not your mistake. Take the positives and never ignore the negatives rather analyze them in your own way.
It's all about just living Lest you're just existing to die. It takes a lot to walk in the direction of your dreams. It is a collective spectrum of your passion, determination, attitude. These three things defines your demand. The passion you've to keep trying everytime you fail, the determination when you've nothing, and the attitude when you have everything.
So it's not about what if you fail, take it as an opportunity to try again, learn again and get inspired again. "Failure is another choice to dream ". You've to adjust a lot of people, compromise certain facts, but hold on to your conscience, what is right for you shouldn't depend upon your likes and dislikes, it is your perspective and your decision. Never talk about your dream because when you open your mouth you tell the world who you are, so people expect you to be somone. Never do that, you have to define yourself by the way you live let the world look at you and get inspired. Failures never let you feel down unless you let them. Live a life like your own way because it's your story, make it awesome.
I'm twenty years old, and I'm still unknown to myself, yet surviving just because I hope I can catch my dreams . When I turn up the previous pages of my life, it looks so dull and dark , all these twenty chapters I just finished writing has no emotion and no meaning, seemingly those who are going to read this will surely dumb me somewhere midst the garbage . And I don't want to end up myself in a nowhere corner of this Earth . I wanna live my life like I want. I'm hopefull.
But I can't center my thoughts at a point and stand stable because something shatters my Faith. The only realization that I've is that I wasted hundreds of pages and few ink bottles scribbling the lifeless part of my story. What have I done for myself or for the world, nothing absolutely nothing. I've not discovered my potential yet, I'm not aware of my weaknesses still, I don't know what is my passion. And what was I doing for the last two decades of my life, I feel devoured by my own fear. But I'm struggling to kindle that inner fire in me and trying hard to make myself confidant and determined that I no more oblige to the opinions of people around me.
I'm talking to you, yes!!! You who read this, have you felt the same pain, or is it just my insane speculations. I've consented everything my parents asked, I stood up saying answers in the class just because my mother feels happy to hear that I'm a smart student, I've said no to childish fantacies because I heard my parents criticizing another girl like me, I told I'm OK with what I've because I know if I ask for more they would tell me to be satisfied with what I have. I've moulded myself as an ıntrovert and kept silent when everyone went on talking and exploring , when I asked for something I really wanted to do they told you can't because I'm a little girl, and so I've crumpled all my desires and dreams. Is all this my real limitations or something that evolved around me as I was growing. I don't know.
If every human on Earth is send for a purpose, which we call our life then why do you all raise your voice, against a girl's dreams . Ain't she have the right to make her life a beautiful story. If not, then never educate her because it's not easy to convince her that she don't having the privilege to dream a life of her own. It's hard to live under somones dictation for the entire life. I'm a girl, a matured girl, I know what all is going around me, how the world is and what is happening. And I've my own opinions and ideas, my dreams and desires, please let me colour them beautifully.
If a girl is born, there begins her family's bothering for everything and caring for nothing. I really mean it. We're always taught to be a good girl because one day we'll be someone's wife, or daughter-in-law or mother, cook, maid, electrician, plumber, teacher, and all in all of the house looking after everybody's health and wellness. This is a girl's life, she is educated as per her parent's dreams, and sent to another corner of the world even though near her with that sparkling red bangles shimmering over the red mehndi on her pale hands, and the burden of the red vermilion condemning her to accept the sanctity of marriage at just a young age when her dreams and desires were firing bright, but finally she have to live a life where someone lights the path of an unknown road.
Let all girls be their own kind beautiful and their own masters of life, because Not every girl wanted to be a princess. Yes, she is the strongest of you've ever seen, let her live a life like she wanted. Don't judge the way she looks, don't suppress her personality, don't torture her security, don't stare at her freedom. She is someone like you, atleast a human.
We only learn to live when we learn to die. Because the moment we realize life has acted upon us so unfairly we look up for another day to live making the right choices and decisions not by mere chances and defaults . Faith is not a promise that God will help you survive, it is your patience to thrive all hardships . Everyday we wake up, isn't that the great sign God is considering you, it's a new day and a new life, just live it deliberately. Our soul is taken by God two times, one at the last day here on earth and another time when we sleep. But realize how merciful and kindfull is he for gifting back our life for a new day. Believe in his blessings and live faithfully.
We might loose everything, the world may criticize your choice and desicion, it takes time to see the better part of your life. But, believe that Life is full of tests and trails, and keep one thing in mind, you grow through what you go through. We know that trees shed their leaves and still stay tranquil and even grow healthier and taller. After every dark night the stars leaves and the sun rises. Connect with nature and educate yourself that everything changes with time and you need to hold on faith.
Whatever good happens, humans are still blind, we always ask for long time, great life, happiness and success. Time just slip from our hand like grians of sand, so manage your time, that you manage your life. When I say this, I know how difficult it is to cool yourself when you are questioning this existence, blaming your mistakes, Conquering your fear, enduring the pain of rejection and surviving all the negative energy around. But let me tell you one thing, the greatest of generosity for future is to give all you've in your present, comprehend the conviction behind this qoute, it can teach you a lot. Fight everyday and focus on the poised reflection of life, hold on faith and believe the better is yet to come. Every little effort is a miracle, because if you never give up and keep waiting and trying, you grow in the direction of abundant conscience of the purpose of your life.
Faith is a sublte emotion, because it helps us to stay serene and kind during the hardest time and let us praise the enormous positive energy God has poured in our heart during the best days. Just imagine you're sitting by the shore of a sea, the sky is light blue, the clouds like a bunch of snow, the waves hitting your foot consoling all your pain, the rythme of cold breeze caressing and soothing your mind. Observe the nature through your heart and admire the magnificent creations of the Almighty, you can't curse your life for this is just a bad day. Good days are yet to come. Have the patience to thrive and live a great life making beautiful choices and adding wonderful meaning to others life too.
// Faith is not a promise that God will help you survive , it is your patience that you can thrive //
This poem is from the perspective of a milk saucepan as it muses about the woman in the family, the being it is most familiar with. We tend to unintentionally attach the Kitchen and everything it stands for with our women and we most often take them for granted and consider them as being appendages attached to kitchens, not different from the utensils themselves.
There are words waiting below your tongue You want to place them on his heart And tell him That your memories of him are what make your heart beat at 3AM when there are war sirens blowing in the distance. That it's his words Waiting in the hollow of your collarbone That leap out in your defence
Pick up the fucking call And tell him That his voice is the most beautiful sound you hear In your spring breakdown And the leaves churning under your toes In the autumn remind you of the break in his spine, That there's a whole lot of sky Waiting to be painted inside your heart And it's only him Who can pick up the brush And stroke you with colours. Tell him that heaven awaits you one day And God, tell him it once stared at you through his eyes. Tell him How when you lie on the asphalt And try to count the stars above all you can see is his face scattered in the moonlight.
There's dust under your toe nail And you're goddamned tired of walking through the cities Waiting for love to strike you like an old record on an antique gramophone Tell him it's his voice that shoots stars above in the skies Tell him it's with his lips That your motions turn to ecstasy. Tell him That like the gramophone whenever the needle fits in the groove of your heart It starts singing his name on loop.
Tell him that his heart is the only place Where a gypsy like you could stay And that all others before him Were just empty warehouses That you went cruising through in cities you didn't know Only in search for him.
And if there was an arm You'd lovingly suffocate in It'd be his.
Tell him That love hasn't been easy And you've fallen somewhere between Not wanting to live And not wanting to die And please tell him That you goddamned fucking love him Because you know nothing better to do.
We're vagrant hearts and bruised souls. Our veins are woven into discolored skin, pale and iridescent in the sunlight. The starbursts of the twinkling sky smile with white fire, and they singe their own vicinity, burning for a thousand years.
We're tattered limbs and vanquished hope sinking gasping, grasping each other with desperate hands. And drowning. We're drowning in mist, unraveling into shreds. Our satin blue eyes are losing their fluorescence fading into transparency.
Our stitches snip and we're tearing down into ribbons, our fragile bones breaking into glass fragments. We're scarring each other with our broken edges. And shattered. We're lying shattered on sunburnt snow, lit on ice, reflecting a frost that reverberates us with frigidity I refuse to seep through.
We're broken nuummite hands, desperately trying to touch someone with numb fingers. And opaque. We're opaque and slashed with unknown colors. We're almost alive in their hues. We're ghosts lingering without eyes because we lost our destination in last millennium's landslide. And crying.
We're crying with tears that seem so much like anguish. We're blasting through emptiness, dropping upon nightmares. Losing the light in an indestructible tornado. And torn.
We're torn with ripped capillaries, with dead stars sewed into my lungs and they're full of ash and I swear, I swear I can't breathe. I can't breathe.
I don't know about you but you seem so much like lifeless. A lost piece of you sunk to the bottom and buried in dust, a lost piece that was your heart. And how could you be alive without a heart?
I wonder if I'm scattered across this ocean floor seeing you through fissured irises, A distorted ray of sunlight I can no longer touch. A numb frame I can no longer call my own.
I love you in the same way I love literature You're worth more than Michelangelo's fresco fixed on Sistine curvature.
The truth is that superstitions are more believable than the truth ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rules of this futile world, Who makes them, Who breaks them, Who bears the honesty, Who gives into the duplicity, Who is real, who is fake, The one who guards, often leaves off-guard, The one who protects, dosen't know what is there beyond a ship-wreck, The one who is blamed, is often the most sinless, The one who blames, dosen't bear the consequences, You see yourself in the mirror, Yet there's another persona conflicting, You see behind the light, There's always a shadow hiding, For every other black stamp, There's a white hue tinted anonymously, For every anonymous smile, A famous torture smiling mockingly, Or maybe it isn't? Maybe what we see isn't contradictory to verity? Maybe what we feel is just what is the truth lying beneath? The accused may be guilty? The one blamed may be filthy? The one who blames may be the one who has seen clearly? The black stamp is a sign of insincerity? The white hue isn't as doubtful as it seems to be? Who is real, who is fake? Who gives into the duplicity? Who bears the honesty? Who breaks them? Who makes them? The rules of this futile world? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The truth is that, Superstitions are more believable than the truth
There are many things which go around mirakee. Many cases of severe bullying and simps roaming in everyone's comment box has been prevalent.
The thing is please question yourself before you approach any victim of bullying or someone who has suffered something else.
People here have such a bad habit of assuming anything by themselves. Kyu? Konse pandit ho tum? Insaan ho, insaan bnke rehne ki koshish hi krr lo.
Then flooding someone's inbox with irritating messages, asking them irritating questions, out of nowhere judging them. Bhaisahab, online platform pe do minute ki baat hui hoti hh sirf orr inhe lgta hh ye samne vale ki puri history, geography, biography jaan gye. Immature hone ki ek seema hh jo tumne paar krr rkhi hh.
Reading some write-ups and having little here and there talks with someone and then thinking that you now know everything about them. Please. No. You don't know what they are going through.
Helping someone is different lekin ye jo tum chatt masala leke pahonch jaate ho naa dusron ki zindagi ke mzze lene ke liye, bhot glt ho.