The only consistent thing about me
is that I continue to breathe,
despite all the accusations that life
throws my way,
regardless of all the hurricanes,
crossing through all apocalypses,
unapologetically, habitually, artistically,
I continue to breathe.

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I don't write a lot these days. Maybe because I don't find myself talking a lot either. The urge to be heard has left me with the passing year. Everything is mysteriously still. There are no dreams to achieve. No stairs to climb. Nowhere to reach. I am somehow deeply etched on this present. The past is not worthy of dwelling in. The future is a myth that does not fool me with the anxiety it tends to bring. I am simply here, getting through the days, accepting what is given, letting go if it is not, crying if it hurts, laughing if it's funny, eating whenever I am hungry, sleeping whenever I am tired. There's no routine to follow. No deadline to meet. No crowd to entertain. The silence is not loud, it's quiet like me. It's comfortable. To some, I have left. Some await my arrival. I am both dying and becoming. Still made of water, ardently fascinated by the fire, caught between the two, in deep conversation with liberation.

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In a world that is all about the number of likes, comments and followers, where the bearer of the future learns about fame before their roots, where they create art only to sell and they don't call what doesn't sell an art, how can I, who has only ever written to record the lessons to not repeat the same suffering, who has only held pen to bring her kind back to their innate elements, feel at home? A seeker of truth, how can I, of all people, long to stay in a place where powerful lies win over powerless truths? The freedom you talk about, I can't find it here. I have to taste death for it. I can only be free from the deception of this place in this lifetime.

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This year marked seven years of me being a listener, a life coach and a mentor. To say that I have learnt more than taught in the past few years would be an understatement. Every new encounter came with a new challenge, with a new lesson to discover.

THAT BEING SAID, I AM GOING TO USE MY LIMITED PRESENCE HERE AS BEST AS I CAN. I AM KEEPING THIS POST PINNED. WHENEVER YOU FEEL THE NEED TO SEEK FREE CONSULTATION OR A LISTENER, YOU CAN FIND ME HERE.

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When I say love is all we need to live a harmonious and purposeful life, I don't mean loving a person only. I mean loving a form of art, adoring a bird or a cat, cherishing one's own company, enjoying a book or a documentary, loving to do something for the community, appreciating quietude, treasuring unplanned and meaningful conversations with strangers, devoting to create memories with family, taking time to exercise or stargaze. When I say love, I mean all of its forms, with every possibility there is. Loving a person is only a part of what you can create with it, it's a step into a new world, not one's entire universe.

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No one in life is ever so helpless that they cannot rewrite their story from the beginning. Loved ones leave, relations tied with blood betray, friends are no longer friends, love turns into a stranger midway, the shelter over one’s head is taken away, and loneliness becomes a seemingly permanent companion. But once patience is learned, it stays with you forever. Your talent never abandons you, and your abilities become your identity.

Do not be afraid of life. Do not run from loneliness. Learn to evolve with changing phases. Do not forget to refine your skills in the race of life. Believe this— you are not helpless. You have the right to live a good life. And the right given by God cannot be taken away by any human.

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When someone opens up to you with their vulnerabilities, make sure to keep aside all of your priorities and be there to completely present for them. You are given the privilege to know something most people carry to their graves. You have been given the chance to make someone feel heard when they battled against their apprehensions to uncover before you. If you think anything else is more important than that, you cannot be more wrong. There's nothing more significant than making the world less dark for someone.

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And it was only when I lost poetry that I
truly felt I was hit by a merciless storm.
No loss ever felt that cruel.
Sadness isn't always poetic.
Depression isn't romantic.
Some silences aren't musical.
Beyond grief, there's a place
where every living being is a stone:
numb, clueless and devoid of hope.

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"From the moon to the sea. You are just that far from me."

"Look again. You are within me, closer than anyone will ever be." She said, pointing at the moon's reflection on the sea's chest.

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On needing someone

I am not usually the one who needs people to always assure her or be beside her to get through the changing phases of life. I am the kind to voice out the lessons and not the battles I make it out alive from. That's why, every time I am hit by an apocalypse, I disappear from everyone's radar until I am certain that I have survived it.
I have often been told to rely, to lean on. In my three decades of existence, I have never taken that advice. It's only recently that I decided to take a chance on it, although I knew of the consequences. It didn't make me want to be an extrovert suddenly, but it definitely did solidify something I always knew: people can inspire you from time to time, but the saving, you have to do it yourself. The silent war is a matter between you and God. Struggles are divine, a very personal affair. They are the bricks that shape the bridge between you and divinity. Be careful who you give them too. Only a soul who has known faces of life intimately can protect yours and yourself. Only a traveler who has known most roads can guide you back home.

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