Who he, but my friend, He who sticks to wonderous vow, He whose neck does not betray the back, belligerent, of this sow making piglets, hay and day. Who he, but my friend, He who slumbers on my awn, Reciprocal of my name, He who blunders dawn to dawn, makes but merry day to game. Who he, but my friend, Sitting solemn in the night, nestling, nesting, nursing tight, facing faces, making fight, donning but a silent might. Who he, but my friend, Open feet and open heart, generous to science and art, miffed at monsoon, looks to dart, and outwaits time spent apart.
Words of Faith
“Motivate me”
Grow as it dark and move as it shallow,
heart of a sparrow and silly shoe strings
tangled and mangled my veins over veins!
And yet you are here and yet we are here.
Throw as I tomorrow my deep defined sorrow,
shudder as I do from silly heartstrings
tangled and mangled my veins over veins!
And yet I am here and yet hearts are here.
Thrifty with life, I am cautious with candour,
frank yet reserved from my hilly heartbeat
tangled and mangled my veins over veins!
And yet I am here and yet there is wait.
Frigidly frank, yet frankly I’m frigid,
broken glass panes do some say await.
tangled and mangled my veins over veins!
And yet I am here and thus I can pray.
Truth is tormentor and torrid my tale,
I am but one and one I do seek.
Paler by portion I do often feel.
Haler she maketh of fender and meek.
tangled and mangled my veins over veins!
And thus I do worship at night’s golden hem.
Words of Anger
Crumble the calander and weep the clock,
break thee linen and summon your frock.
the nightingale has sung and died
the mighty dog i make now whimper.
The feeble guest from starry sea
did come to town with anxious glee!
the stars are bare and the head is cold
the cold head i now set afire.
My teeth are sharp and jut they out!
my nails are fire and my breath is smoke.
there is but none, just me and I
and ash of all that was to be.
clang your hearts and beat thy knuckles.
your breath and breadth is all but bread.
and when in due course I sit in a creek.
the world shall have my yeast.
Manifestation
If someday I could manifest as I am, I’d show you who I am. I’d probably discover myself for the first time too. The fear of being alienated has acted like a needle on rock all these years. Initially, the rock could never have thought it’d hurt him. he even thought he could crush a hundred such needles with nothing more than a tiny scratch. But then the needle started clawing at the rock, up and down, over and over, never the duller. and now the rock has a chasm, and every shower of rain lets water in and there’s expansion. The rock is weared out now. But not yet dust.
if someday I could manifest as I am, You’d be in constant awe. My hair is the colour of fire, if not tongues of camphorous flame. Orange, yellowish, and mustard in the right light. You’d see expansive wings, white as a swan’s, enveloping my naked dazzling dark flesh. You’d see more hands than two, some with velvet, some with weapons, some with grain and some with rosaries fashioned out of spices and gems. some would have nothing at all, But you’d see everything outside within me.
I’d be raging, shouting at clouds, bellowing in a deep yet smooth blast of power. you’d see my fur bristle with white, pubescent light. with my short nails i’d dig into my palms till blood oozed. I’d rub my hands on my body, jerk some more blood on the floor below, and then brandish those palms at you, to see if you would run or stand fixed in awe.
Then i’d be calm, and i’d light a small candle under an earthen pot, put a bit of water and a bit of fragrant oil, and sit down, caress my red-brown flesh. i’d see every finger move and it’d be surreal. That would be the moment of awareness. I exist. I’d call you close. maybe you wouldn’t come. i’d show you my fingers move in a rhythm, one by one. my head would be hurting from the inside, my brain would be pushing outwards, as i feel right now.
an involuntary quiver of my brow. i’d rush to stop it. clenching my eyes shut. and when that wouldn’t stop it, i’d try to hold it in place with my fingers. i’d dig into it. the mild discomfort i feel all the time vanishes at these times, you know.
my fingers would fall on my eyes, and i’d try to feel the depth of my eyes. deep set eyes aren’t always the best assets. maybe you’d be sitting near, and i’d be covering up my face from below the eyes. i’d probably push my hands in too hard, but i’d rather be seen in pain than with an imperfection. a glaring imperfection. an imperfection in what people glare at.
i wouldn’t stow away my body. i’d let it fall to the ground; sweat, blood and meningeal fluid. the cold fragrance from the hot pot on the candle would prick me and i’d claw at whatever was beneath me. 2 years ago today, that is when i remember the last tear issuing forth from my eye. if someday i could manifest as i am, i’d weep a waterfall, but i’d hold back my tongue. my emotion is pious. even if someday i manifested as i am, that state would be tarnished by makings of man, even without a string of cloth on my skin, even without a strand of consideration for anything. that tarnished state would not deserve the pure brooding of mind and soul. my red-brown skin in all its 2-day-old-copper glory, my swan wings, hands of velvet, sword and grain, all the hair staring stark with its pre-pubescent glory, none would be pure. except the camphorous flames on my head.
tired of being sorry
no, this blog entry won’t be lyrics of an enrique eglisias song, it’s going to be one of my usual posts where i whine about my life to the internet because i lose my guts whenever i have the chance to actually do something about my life’s state. and i’m done apologising for it.
i had a pretty massive fight with my best friend tonight on the phone. she sat there trying to motivate me so i go to college. she kept hitting the wrong buttons repeatedly and i exploded. and so here’s my rant.
i’m done trying to explain to people how i have an actual PHYSICAL problem when i say i have depression. my brain is BROKEN! “not thinking” about it will NOT solve it. i’ve tried it. repeatedly. with no profit.
i have a broken leg. and my family, peers and half of all stranger who get to know about my state let their dogs loose on me, thinking i can just forget about my fracture and run like anyone else. i just have to “believe in myself”. here’s an idea. why don’t I give them a muscle relaxant in their arms and tell them to do push ups? they can just “forget about it” and do it!
i have an urge to swear at those people. but no good can ever come out of that. it doesnt even calm a person.
i’ve been locked up in my room for most of the past 3 weeks. at all times, i’m either nauseous, have stomach cramps, acidity, but always scared to death. i know i shouldnt assign blame to others. but people destroyed my life. thank you, family. thank you parents. thank you you moron of a teacher who considered it a good idea to fail half the class in the first year of college, just because. or maybe because it hs been a tradition in that subject. thank you to everyone for always reminding me that my life is worth shit if i dont get that purposeless piece of paper they call a degree. i cannot stand outside my room for 10 seconds, but no. i need to attend those classes. i need to excel in those classes to make up for my years lost in my battle with the negativity i had been marinated with for the past decade. and sure. i’m the weak one when i want to leave the degree. NO! YOU’RE the weak ones! weak because you are so in love with status quo that your own kin’s suffering is fake for you.
what am i gonna do? without a degree, how will i earn? how will i support myself, let alone anyone else? where will i live? with whom? why should my family tolerate me? they have faced enough because of me. they dont need my shit any more. i have NOWHERE to go. i cannot do what i’m being forced to do. i cannot get out because where else can i ever go now? what has become of me?
what mental illness is teaching me
so my anxiety is probably gonna be here for a while, so let me try to talk about something slightly different. and hopefully positive.
people these past few days have been asking me how i got depressed. or what is it that gives me the crippling amount of anxiety. and sometimes, why don’t i just “snap out of it”.
what events happened in my life are not as important as the lesson the depression has to offer. the lesson; what is it? it’s nothing you haven’t heard before, really. People are jerks. they do stuff that hurts you. over and over. even when you expect them to be on your team because they’re (like) your family. but they can’t see beyond their own limits of cognition. so what next? don’t let people bother you. i know; in that particular moment, those people look like the devil incarnate. but trust me, they’re being morons because they haven’t seen the world as you have. they dont experience some things from your life personally, just like you don’t from their lives. they just find it extremely hard to get out of that bias.
bad things that happen in your life are just things. they’re like tennis balls with glue stains on them; they’ll stick to your clothes occasionally. and when they do stick, shake them off. if you get late, the glue will dry. and it’ll be harder to take them off. if some have dried already, it’s ok. don’t be ashamed. everyone has some hanging onto their clothes at odd places.
Stand up for yourself at the right time. don’t let your parents/ friends make life changing decisions for you. if you have no idea about the decision making process or the situation, take input most graciously, but choose your own life. it will get far too late later on. you might find yourself without any direction to take except the one you’re being pushed into. life has a lot of forks in the journey. choose the one you like when you see it. it’s unlikely that path will be joined by an oblique tunnel or footpath further ahead from the road you are allowing yourself to be pushed into.
most importantly, talk. don’t stay silent. that way, even if some jerk manages to spoil your life, he/she cannot say he/she didn’t know what it was you wanted. talk, because feelings are better on the tip of the tongue than rotting into acid inside your mind.
lots of love
Saksham
will anxiety be my end?
i’ve been in college for over a week now. i cannot step out of my room. not even to eat. i only have dinner on most weekdays. i cannot do anything here. my sense of frustration at my own life is rising. i often want to puke when there’s nothing in my system to puke out. i’ve been pulling out my body hair coz i seem to enjoy the pain. i ran a razor on my shoulder to make an ugly jagged patch of hair on it yesterday. i’ve slept for more than 10 hours today. i miss that time. i was unaware. the moment i woke up, my heart started pounding. if i fail once more in college, my mother will have more inconvenience than i would prefer her to have. i cant write what i’m feeling here either, because it may be monitored by people known to me.
my depression is back. i’ve been out of therapy for about 6 months. i need t go back and get my anxiolytic. but my mother will not be pleased. people around will not be pleased. my illness is still laziness to them. they still think i am in control of my body and its responses. i cannot even attend my psychology course online because i am so paralysed. it’s taking me all my energy to type this. my mind feels so clogged. it feels as if a very viscous syrup is sitting in my skull. it moves with every shake of my head. i cannot call a friend to my room because i havent even been able to go out to brush my teeth. the smallest movement from my bed makes me sweat; even if i get up from my bed to pick up something from the shelf. i want to keep lying on bed. even when i’m hungry enough to feel actual twists in my belly, i don’t want to get out of bed.
there’s no point in typing this. so i’m gonna end this here.
are we the Alexanders of our lives?
“Yahan ke hum sikandar, chahe toh kar le sab ko apni jeb ke andar”, as the bollywood song goes. we are the Alexanders here, if we want we will pick up and pocket everyone else.
Are we, though?
for those who’re wondering how i remembered this song that must be more than 20 years old, it doesn’t matter. i was watching a web series with a friend. a group of 4 college friends(?) decide to open a start up of their own. and they fight odds like no initial finance and lots of filial obligations. they reject a big investment, that could have guaranteed their success, coz the terms don’t agree with them and they are to lose the ownership of their idea in such a case. it’s a tear jerking scene when the 4 clear misunderstandings by joining on the above song that’s playing on the radio.
(Edit: It gets crazy pessimistic from here)
i remember feeling the same crazy optimism when i decided to get out of engineering and pursue psychology. ah yes, the feel good factor of being able to help people who suffered from stuff like me, but don’t have anyone to understand. the rush of confidence when classmates and friends confide in you and actually verbally appreciate you coz they felt safe and secure and comfortable sharing their stuff with you. the ambition of making the lives of people who’ve suffered like me better. the righteous anger at incidents i came across where people were hated on by peers, families or institutions for being undesirable in some way or another, be it because of their political affiliations, religious beliefs, gender, sexuality, race or mental illness. all that stands for nothing ATM.
i spent (wasted?) 2 years of my life pursuing this dream. i tried like a mad man to convince my family to let me pursue psychology. i tried to present emotional arguments, barter arrangements and the occasional threat of irrevocable anger to get my way; the Indian way of Sama-Dama-Danda of dealing with conflict. now i have no way to go, except Bheda, or giving up the desire or the people i seek the desire from. i cannot lose my family, of course. so i’ve parted with the desire. it does not mean i don’t find it extremely satisfying to help someone emotionally. or that i don’t feel the urge to give up everything else because i didnt get a very significant thing i wanted for myself. it’s just that i recognise that asking for it to happen is futile.
i read, or was asked (recommended, pressured?) to read an article online. a very recurring theme in the article was that psychologists in India have a slow career growth chart. given that it is no secret i have expressed desire to settle independently once i have the resources (very non indian a thing to say, as some might call it), money counts. the tug between material and spiritual satisfaction has never been more sickening. or complicated.
the song would readily have anyone believe that they are the masters of what happens in their lives. or what they feel towards people or things. it’s false, i’ll say. i’ve tried to snatch control of my life. i’ve tried to forgive people. i see that control is an illusion. i know that hateful people dont always want to be bad, they’re just conditioned in a certain way. yes, it’s all true. i get it.
but as of now, i am defeated. i’d cry, but i’m really tired of crying by now. as of 2:54 am on what i’m imagining to be an anxiety filled first monday of the third semester for a boy who was supposed to be in his seventh semester had he just toed the line like any other good obedient indian son would, Saksham Bhatnagar is defeated. in the battle? in the war? i don’t know. i’d say i’ve ceased to care, but i evidently do, as the 935 words here say.
i dont know what i need to get out of this college with my degree in hand. i’m evidently not so good at keeping my head down and following the path i’m prodded into. i’m not good at having a contract marriage with engineering while i wait for the resources to marry the one i love.
what do i love, you ask? i don’t know anymore. i don’t know who i am, what i want to do, whom i want to do it with, when and how do i want to do it. these past 2.5 years have taught me not to get in contact with my emotions or desires. all of that jazz always ends up messing up lives (incorrigibly?). leading a double life is cheating too. i need to concentrate on my public life. the private self does not matter. the skin is all there is. the soul is an illusion. the silk is all that matters. the warmth might as well die.
private life is now dissolving. the soul is illusory. the warmth is gone. i am broken. but i am also flat on the ground, so no sun or wind can bother me and give me ideas that i am alive. life? hah! it’s a con idle people propagated to suit their ends. there is no life or death. you are merely a cog that needs to rotate around ONE axle just the way you are told. or else you’ll end up stressing the machine and will have to be thrown out.
Alexander? i think a crybaby is more like it. i’m gonna be called one sooner or later anyway. meh.
confusion all around
ok. i feel i must apologise for not being able to write much on this blog, even though i took up the blogging101 challenge and i should have respected my decision. but with the race to earn some money (and raise my self worth?), i spent a lot of my time reading up stuff on the topics i was to write on. the rest of the time i spent writing and polishing the articles a bit. with me being slated to return to college for the third time, with a promise to do well, just like the previous two times, tensions ran high at home. i got into a few fights with mom, got tsunamis of anxiety that occasionally shut me down, and bad stuff like that. my mom got a little acidity, as did i, due to the sort of bickering we kept doing. TMI? ok sorry. let me skip a bit further.
so basically, i’m in my hostel room. it’s 2 at night, and not a single light is on in the entire college campus. only my room has a faint moonlightly glow from my laptop screen. i’ll need to be up and running by 8 tomorrow, for the first day of class. and i can’t sleep. mainly coz i slept earlier. but also because of the monsoon humidity, and the panic and confusion in my head.
i keep reminding myself that i need to be clear and rigid about getting an engineering degree. the college is great. the place is great. the food is great(?). the future promised is great. my inadequate enthusiasm should be no problem. so many other kids get it over with in 4 years; people who are dumber than me(?), as people keep telling me. i usually launch into a honey tipped tirade on depression, GAD and stuff. but something tells me it doesnt matter to people.
what is it? are people so severely occupied by their own circumstances that they cannot see the suffering in another’s?
i just realised the statement is quite the double edged sword. the same dialog, i remember, has been thrown at me by my (extended and immediate) family, friends, and random strangers.
regardless. it’s 2:20 am, and i can’t sleep. i have a feeling i’ll be writing a lot of blogs tonight.
apologies and overwhelmedness
OK so as i said in my previous post, stuff’s been piling up, and it was getting very difficult keeping up with this challenge. i usually ended up doing the challenge 24 hours after it came out, so i guess i get a few negative marks. so here’s how my week has been…
my big content writing assignment went pretty well. and the person was so impressed that he gave me a new assignment that’s twice as big and 4 times as heavy. lots of research required, and i still got to stretch the material and make tiny delicate bows and strings of words so the audience is engaged. i swear when i was writing the first article, my fingers started typing sassy stuff. i was dissing Apple Inc and Microsoft haha. i had to trash that article though. the person was kind enough to not give a particular deadline, but i want to complete it before i go to bed tomorrow.
My family was really set on me making something sweet to eat and so i made Gulab Jamun. they’re these dark fried balls of batter that are then soaked in sugar syrup for hours. i probably didn’t soak them long enough (or maybe mom made the batter too tight) because they were still bread-y and dry on the inside after over 8 hours of soaking. they wer still fantastic though. the oil automatically clears out in the syrup so it hardly tastes of oil. plus i added some saffron so the yellowness of the syrup is emphasised. i added it too early though, and so there is lesser fragrance. Here’s how they look.
Agnih-Twam. You are fire 