Turning 22 ~ happi birdae arooj

To: the bottle of tomato paste, the son of god, the mithai shop, cookie monster, wooj ki jaan, the heroine of F-6 and my dead friend:

with far too many cars on the roads in islamabad and far too less friends around me, i wished myself another birthday this yr on the 26t of april. i hugged myself, and told me to let all of it go. and then i patted and held myself wen tears began to flow, without any reason at all.

tht night wen i sat on my bed, alone in my room, curtains drawn, donkey in my lap and an abandoned novel by the side, i gave myself some company. i thot abt things tht came and changed me, for better or worse remains undecided, and i scared myself thinking of things yet to come. its always better to be prepared for the next. i havnt rcovered from my past yet

i cry most of the times at most things in my life. i cry wen normal people shrug and let go. but i cry alone. tht holds my strength and leaves atleast some integrity behind. tht night, i cried infront of a stranger: i cried infront of myself.

how can a simple thing like life be such a complete mess?

to somebody, i said, 'if i gave u my grief, i wudnt really be left with anything'

to all others, i told em tht my birthday went past in a flurry of assignments, projects and celebrations

the only thing i celebrated tht day wasnt even there

i hate clocks. they tick tock their existance away, heard by only those who already know the meaning of each tick tock. i bet nobdy ever concentrated enough to realize tht each tick and tock of the clock is unique in sound and will never again be repeated.

i hate books tht tell me if i want smthng bad enough, the entire universe conspires to help me get it. such gives me hope and a glass house to live in.

i hate being miss popular. its a burden i cannot sustain for long.

come to think of it, hate is such a strong word with negative vibes practically bursting out of it. since i was a kid, ive always felt tht every THING around me can feel. this makes me nervous as hell. what if the yellow-orange colored "hate" actually hates being called "hate"? what if the letter "Q" on the keyboard feels neglected (pale brown in color) because our fingers never seem to tap on it enough since there arnt many words with "Q" in them? what if the emotion "love" (tang orange colored) actually broke when i cried? what if the words "what if" hate themselves to be so uncertain?

i wonder at the number of years it would take untill ill get out this "super-feely" phase. its damaging because it makes me hurt much more and doesnt let me speak out about the injustice. it abandons me (grey colored) with itself, like a sneaky english movie character, alone in a desert where the wind instead of blowing, howls like an injured wolf and the sand instead of just being sand, measures the life and death routine.

i like zebra corssings on the road. even if nobody pays any heed to them, atleast they remind me tht smbdy thought abt us and put those markings there.

i like the moon. it stays on top of me at night and doesnt go away in the day just because its not getting enuf attention. but i suppose everyone likes it for one reason or the other. not much of a differentiator i am

i enjoy being able to sit and think abt people without them knowing abt it. i like to treasure little memories in life. the flowers i got from a friend on a shadi, a cigarette pack somebdy left behind in my life, pages of paper i played games on with the mini god, wrapper of a toffee of this certain smbdy who would never know abt it, a cupla pebbles with dried grass and a dead ant... everybdy has a place. the tragedy is tht the soul is itself lost.

being 22 just doesnot help, especially when u know u dont have much time left and hurryng things wont do

to people ill never be able to mail or call or txt or scrap or blog, please forgive me for all tht i mite have caused you though done unintentionally to others, i cant imagine me being without you.

To: the bottle of tomato paste, the son of god, the mithai shop, cookie monster, wooj ki jaan, the heroine of F-6 and my dead friend: i breathe :)