But All Men Judge

Judge thou not, and be not judged. 
Your eyes, though they see as much as

A shadow from the viewing side of the screen,

Are shoehorned to be self-blinding searchlights that

Seek and see what is not shown, not showcased. 
Your tongue its bearer’s estate will not soil,

But will let loose a volley of venom-tipped arrows 

At the defenseless repute of another,

An ivory fabric you motley with black words and scarlet. 
How do you, a closed museum of dark secrets beneath this veil of flesh, 

Conceive yourself fit to pronounce the idle verdict?

Even the white-wigged hammer-pounder’s judgment can be flawed. 
Judge thou not, but all men judge.

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Irrational Irony, Inexplicable Indifference & Inevitable Idiosyncrasy : Ingredients of Life

You’re in a crowd, but you’re alone. You explain, but that just makes things harder to understand than they initially were. You speak, but you can’t be heard, or you’re not listened to. When you’re silent, everyone hears. When you’re down, no one wants to help you up, but when you’re up, everyone wants to drag you down. They tell you to hold on when you’re trying to let go. They tell you to let go when you’re trying to hold on. You’re dying while you’re living, and living while you’re dying.

Life is pervaded by the essence of irrational irony.

You talk to a person present in the flesh and you’re ignored. You talk to your “wall” on a social media platform and people who aren’t well-enough acquainted with you connect the dots of your untold emotions. You are forced to wear a smile that conceals the scars lest someone should see them and question your sanity or gloat over your probable insanity. You are forced to line your eyes with kohl to camouflage the deed all the midnight tears have done, because people seem to notice, but won’t seem to understand. You love someone, but your love to them is no more than the earth they trample underfoot.

Life is garnished with the oil of inexplicable indifference.

You are told by people that you will be understood, but ultimately, you end up being either not understood or misunderstood. You are told to stay put by someone who persistently tries to push you off balance when you’re like a feather amidst an air current. You choose your path and traverse it only to realize you’ve been treading the wrong way all this while. You gain something only to realize it won’t last forever, but you lose something and realize that it will be lost forever, like a drop in a boundless ocean.

Life is sprinkled with a dash of inevitable idiosyncrasy.

But life has to go on through it all, doesn’t it? And it does…

You know you’re not losing life’s battle, you’re just fighting your way up from the bottom.

Life is crowned with the indomitable spirit that surmounts the issues so insurmountable.

Of Marriage and a Man

Down the lane of the future, I contemplate that walk of a lifetime down the aisle, clad in a pristine snow-colored gown with a coronet encircling my mane and my face veiled from the view of him whom my eyes are yet to fall upon and my heart is yet to love.

My friend once asked me if I was interested in marriage because the word never rolled off my tongue. And I told her, “Of course I am- just at the right time with the right man.”

I’m sixteen and the day I wed seems like it’s light years away, but nevertheless, every lass still fantasizes about what her Prince Charming might be. As for me, I have a checklist too, and I just hope he ticks all the boxes.

I’ve never fallen in love before, but when Heaven intersects my path with his, I want to fall in love every single day in every single way. Sometimes people look to the firmament to gaze at the stars, but to catch a glimpse of Heaven, I wish to look no further than his eyes.

He should be someone who enhances the spiritual context of love in my life- falling in love with The Author of Love more and more everyday while falling in love with him.

I don’t want our love to be encapsulated in a professional pre or post-nuptial framed snapshot, but rather, to be exuded when I am clad in the attire of the woman of the house. I want to feel the same tingles and accelerated heartbeats even when time sacks the elasticity of my skin and bleaches my hair.

I just hope he’ll be someone who will love me even when I can’t love myself, whose eyes will light up like a million light bulbs at the thought of me and who will be one with me at heart though we will be two separate bodies.

I want a man not only to wed and to bed, but to have and to hold from that day forward, in good times and in bad times, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, to love me and honor me all the days of my life.

And I will make him the same promise when that magical day dawns.

Heart’s Take on Recrimination, Retaliation and Revenge

It’s not just the fact that I’m a student of Science which made me ponder over this little marvel called The Heart. I know I’ve probably mentioned the little throbbing thing in a gazillion places already, but somehow, I just can’t seem to get enough.

The world follows the “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” platitude that blinds them to the truism that their internal apparatus has much they can actually glean from.

Consider the working of the little fist-sized pump:

All it does is supply the entire soma with the river of life in its purest form. Notwithstanding this, the heart is refueled with impure blood.

Now, what would a person’s reaction be when her good deeds were reciprocated with bad ones? To square it up? Highly likely.

Now, back to anatomy class. We see that the little heart does not reciprocate bad for bad. Rather, it purifies the tainted blood and dispenses it in purity again.

Now why would someone want to do that, you ask?

Well, here’s the deal. What if Mr. Heart decided to exact retribution on the rest of the body? What if it dispatched the defiled blood to the body for it to get a taste of its own medicine?

Struggling for the answer? The body will writhe and succumb to the potion of revenge.

In life, we may not be paid back in due measure. We might not even be paid back at all, but in the worst of circumstances, good is repaid with evil and love is reciprocated with detestation. It’s just a matter of choosing between repaying bad for bad or transforming it into something good.

The heart teaches us that we can’t live with negativity in our systems. It might seem like the most reasonable, and in some cases, the only option available. But recrimination, revenge and retaliation are just like salt in a wound or, more appropriately, toxins.

If it can kill another, why not you?

The best life lessons come when you look within yourself and not around yourself.

Resurfacing

“I’m over my head and there’s no way out. It’s like I’m underwater trying not to drown.” ­­— Nikki Flores in ‘Underwater’

Have you ever felt that way at any point in your life? At one moment you felt as light as a feather that you could even walk on the surface of the blue, but all too suddenly, you just felt heavier and noticed that you were sinking with no way out. You don’t want to die, but you don’t know how to evade death from happening.

Maybe you’re suffocating, your lungs are in agony, your limbs are flailing helplessly, and the weight of your heavy heart keeps acting in your disfavor. It’s like wanting to live but not being able to stay alive.

But maybe there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Even someone who looks too big for even the weighing scale to affix a number in kilos to is capable of floating.

Resurfacing is a great deal harder than floating, but it isn’t unfeasible. There comes a time when you’re just holding on by a flimsy thread that can only last for so long before unraveling and coming apart and that is the moment of truth wherein you decide to go down silently or to rise to the surface fighting even when you’re being tested.

To live or to die. That is the choice to be made in a situation as critical as the one at hand.

When you let go of those weighty feelings that are attached to you like a ball and chain, they will sink to the bottom of the ocean where they belong and you can propel yourself upward where you see the dancing reflection of the sun on the surface.

You feel drained. You feel hazy. You feel relieved.

The odds will perpetually try to suck us in and suck the life out of us, but to drown in them or to break free of their iron grip and stronger-than-gravity pull is a choice you have to make. It’s worth the fight to stay alive after all, isn’t it?

Battlefield of Emotions

Contrary emotions are like sworn nemeses in the medieval epoch. They find a place that can cater well to their need of habitation and they proceed to pretentiously coexist peacefully and convincingly, but as time goes by, their true intent to overtake the kingdom and overthrow the ruler is made manifest, and that is precisely how the war of emotions kicks off.

Hatred enters the battlefield armed with his weapon of poison, hurt with his arrows, indifference with his shield and insult with its club. Only love enters unarmed, sans even a single means of defense.

In course of combat, love is wounded mortally- struck, impaled and blown, temporarily weakened and incapacitated, but not enough to give up the fight. It allows itself to be victimized until the assailing foes themselves grow weary of the fight and retreat in defeat.

Love, though wounded, triumphs in sweet victory and basks in humble glory. It restores and rejuvenates itself and the Kingdom of the Heart that was subject to much attrition.

Love neither is a fighter nor a killer, but a conqueror. It is its own weapon- a weapon that eliminates what breaks and restores what has been broken.

Memories

They tell me not to look back on the past, but how can I abide by that when the past is just another analogue for “storehouse of all my memories”?

Memories. Those immortal things that will never leave you even if your shadow does.

Some people have them in pictures, some in scripts and others like me in the heart and mind.

For me, there are many in my treasure chest that involve the same person being the cause of my happiness and my smile and then (surprisingly) my sadness and my tears.

Memories can be suppressed, never erased. Just because those heartrending moments are over, long gone perchance, doesn’t imply that there aren’t days when it all comes rushing back.

Sometimes I just find myself alone, but in the company of my thoughts that soon lead me down memory lane where I find the eye of my mind making me oblivious to the sights before me in reality.

Some are so bittersweet that they have left an indelible mark on me, promising a smile complemented by tears or maybe just a blank stare and brimming eyes or in extreme cases grinning with apparently no reason.

But if there’s something I’ve learned from memories, it’s this: they aren’t painful reminders, they were priceless lessons.

If something is etched in my memory for a lengthy period of time, it’s either worth remembering, or it’s remembered or resurrected for a reason.