I was never a part of such problems

Now all I have is one part of my existence being a problem.

Tumhein ghussa nahin ata? 

Meri zubaan kharaab hogi uski waja se. 

When I hear these words coming from someone so close to me, I wonder what part of my life I am actually living. 

Somehow problems escalate when things are heightened at a relatively lesser degree. For last night, I could have explained, could have measured child-like tendencies to react, over-react, and create fission with this globule of shame and disgust I am surrounded in. 

Pity how some problems are never a reflection of what certain people are. 

And the mammoth of collective protest going on right now, for something as shameful and pathetic for a nation – that makes me stand still. Stand still on a point of vantage looking over so many things at once. 

- Religion has become a point of conflict now. Which it should never have been. 

- People’s problems are making me sick. Sick of the level of hate and misunderstanding over something so trivial, so simple. 

- My own big dilemma. Which I have come to own. And own I must, for it is something others cannot take me out from. It is not their responsibility and as much as I would like to give it all away to someone else, I can’t. I can’t be that selfish. And I can’t be this weak. 

He said he hates people. I told him to stay away. And yet, he could walk away, right now; without any commitments, without any answers to give. Have you thought about people who cannot? 

She says she has developed a new personality from changing the society and social standing she was in. Did you think about the lives you tortured in the process? 

Did you see the haunted corridors of doubt, shame, disgust and utter disbelief you would leave behind? 

Did you see the pains of having to act someone I am not? 

Did you see how your own blood would be so congealed in places that you wouldn’t be able to see the other side of the picture? 

Did you think of the level of atrocious and utterly shameless accusations that would be thrown back at you?

You didn’t. I don’t think you could’ve. And what makes me hate myself is that I am turning out to be a replica of the passion you displayed. 

But let me tell you one thing. 

And let me tell you this once only. 

I will give up everything, everything that I have gained till now, if I have to, for saving myself from the disgrace you are. 

Everything that has made me what I am today. Those sleepless nights trying to prove that I am indeed the best, those moments of passion when I told people that this is what I want so you can’t keep me away, those priceless expressions on people’s faces when they realized that I am working for something much more bigger than what it seems to be, those horrors of realization that I had when all was not well, those impassioned explanations to new people, those words of reassurance on a night when everything was falling down, that beauty of excitement when everyone else fell behind to take their mind off it all. Everything. 

I will forego everything but be who you are. 

For you have done something so pathetic, I don’t even have words right now. 

Because you’re already burning parts of you away, when you leave your mark behind. Don’t think you have won, because you’re only losing yourself when you segregate parts of you, for us. You’re not capable of doing it on your own that is why. You’re not successful, that is why. You’ll always lose everything: that is why. 

This society, and its people, and my people will haunt you till death. I don’t even have to try. 

And I won’t let you know because I don't care about you.

But I will not be who you are, that is a promise. A promise I will keep till the day they send me down into dust. Passion is important, but not caring about the lives I would harm in the process is more important for me to realize. Much more important. 

And you. How do I solve your trivial problems when all I can see is that veil of explanations and understandings to give you at one point? All I can see is how I will tell you one of these days how simple and utterly unimportant your issues are right now. All I can tell you is that you should be grateful. Grateful for everything that is right in your life today. Grateful for the problems you have. Because you can solve them: you are in control of your problems. Because you have someone to share your problems with, and that someone can explain it better, can tell you stories that relate to that problem. Be grateful for the wonderful life you have.

Because I don’t. 

Maybe I am selfish. Yes. I am. But I can’t help it. 

Unreal words of sorrow

Figures of dust

Parts of shame

Growing misdeeds

And faces of scared emotions 

Haunting the forevers of tomorrow

When all there is, is a painting of sorrow

Your denial

Is my survival

And I forge happiness

When it's all forgotton; buried 

In dust 

Your face

My feelings

Your words

My existence 

Nothing to express

Because its all a haze. 

All a big confusion

Over the names of our seclusion

And isolation. 

Goodbye, world.

You’ve been a little fake. 

(13th January, 2013)

(And yet, I cannot be that selfish. I'll always be able to help others. For my problems are mine to solve. And I just want to write it all away, I don't want to sound like someone asking for help. Because help can't come in this case. I've got to feel the hurt, the pressure, and the stinging and striking of words in this case. I have to. Otherwise, I'm not living.)