voices in my head

  A few years back, during a hot summer day, he left the library feeling sad and mundane. He placed his black Christmas-themed bookmark back in the 'Eleanor and Park' hardcover and planned to continue reading it the next time sun and clouds aligned as perfectly as that day.       Once he crossed the roads, he thought about the curly-haired guy with an oval-shaped face in the same building. He didn't know the guy's name so he named him Simon in his scenarios. And how everyone always loved him. And how he always wore clothes with so many colors. And the only dull-colored piece of cloth he ever owned was that faded grey sweater which he only wore on days that rained like hell. And how he always chose to wore beige khaki pants with it and his white Vans. And how he always checked his watch every now and then like the world was ending one second a time and he had to make sure he was making the most out of it.  He always wanted to talk to Simon or at least maybe ask him what

 I nearly died this morning. I woke up on my floor instead of my bed, where I slept yesterday in my good senses. There's a circular mark on my neck. Someone tried to wind a rope around my throat. Clearly, I'm not dead yet. I think they wanted to shut me up.  I feel like a mute now. They took away my pens, Broke my pencils, Burnt my notes, Buried my journals. Thanks to the hitman fiber wire trick, I can't breathe now, Neither can I write. Where am I supposed to dump my sadness now? They were me.

 It was a pretty morning. The kind that makes you want just to go out and do things. The weather was nice. Moderately cold, adequately warm. Ah, when did I fell asleep? The 'tandoor' and 2 blankets did keep me warm though. I toddled myself trying not to step on anyone.      The view here is massively beautiful. Mighty Parvathi lined up in all directions, dressed in white. Like it's someone's funeral. Wait, an Indian funeral. Birds are performing daily sound checks. Riya and Diya are out here playing some game like 'goli'.      Didi made us chai and bread omelet. I feel like a westerner, basking in the 11AM Sun, eating bread omelet with ketchup. This is our last day here. As peaceful as it is, the expenses are also a little too much here, so we have to get down to keep the ship afloat.       The satellite phone rang twice and then stopped. Aswin Bhai lit a beedi and went to get some magic wood. I wonder why it's called magic wood. Shaapi is preparing for the

           A leaf has fallen. A brown large yellow dry old leaf. It fell in front of my 3-year-old nephew. He went and bought an oval-shaped bath soap because the smell of it made him happy. Now his two-year-old sister also wants to hold it. I say maybe cut it? So both of you have equal halves. But then that would take the beauty out of it that is the oval shape. A man is taking his dog for a walk. It's a pug. I have always wondered why people adored pugs so much. They aren't even that cute. Maybe I should buy a pet. I could buy a fish for starters. Hmm. I have seen a kid selling goldfish on the roadside nearby. Hmm.  My 3-year-old and 2-year-old nephews went to play at the nearby house. He tells me not to take the soap because he wants to have the first bath with it. I'm sitting on the wooden swing that my father had made for them. It's positioned pretty low but it does the job. I sit there for 30 minutes.   Now, the thing about melancholy. The thing about melancholy i

In the movie 'Being Charlie', Charlie says in the climax, "All I ever wanted was a way to kill the noise". And when Charlie from 'The perks of being a wallflower' said, "There is so much pain and I don't know how to not notice it". And when Lee Chandler from 'Manchester by the sea' said, "I can't beat it". And when Vincent from 'The road within' said, "What if I fuckin live?" Evening. Railway Station I am walking in between the platform bridge between the second and fourth platforms. My mind is going at the rate of hundred miles per hour. I can't slow it down. I need to lie down and close my eyes for a second and be at peace. But, the mosquitoes don't seem to make it any easier. I need to reach my room immediately and that is the only place I can just lay down at peace. Maybe pour all of this down to paper or something. Just dance. Just lie down, put my head under a pillow. There are still 2 hours r

  “Why do you say these things, Connel? Why do you have to make everything so complicated? Why can’t you just let be for once? Why did you say that you thought I was gonna leave you once college reopens? You hurt me by saying things like that, you know?”  “Why do I always worry about how things are gonna end, you ask? Why, right? Chuckles . You know, from the very moment I meet a person, my mind starts constantly reminding me of what’s it gonna be like when they walk away. It’s not like I want to, but … I can’t beat it. I can’t beat the feeling. I’m not good at letting things go. So I don’t meet a lot of new people. I don’t have the emotional energy for that. I’m barely surviving out here.  So I guess I say all these things, all these things about us growing apart because maybe then I would be already prepared and adjusted to the reality so that it would hurt less when you actually leave. Does that make any sense?  And, Marianne, I’m sorry that I hurt you, you know that’s the last thin

This monotonous life I am so tired of pretending I feel like I’ve pretending for so long That I forgot what I was really like before We were sitting under a banyan tree And a friend of mine said, “No one knows the real you” And that is the truest thing  someone has told me all my life And that’s all I ever wanted to be A mystery An enigma I don’t want to be your answers I am questions More and more questions Rhetorical fucked up questions So fucking tired of this overflow of  Abundant thoughts into my head And I wish I could be like you Oh, how I wish I could be like you. You thrive by meeting new people I survive by being left alone You write relevant stuff I pour out my sadness You are a free bird I am entrapped forever  In the cage that is my mind You live in the moment I overthink the fuck out of it You’ll hold her hand I’d push her away  in the fear of sucking her to the void too You vibe with people Me, the CEO of awkwardness  You smoke stuff to think heavy I don’t want to think

  So when I was making tea the other day, oh wait.  I like tea. I drink an awful lot of tea every day. My mom thinks it's an addiction, and I might die of cancer one day.  Though what I can't tell her is that, if it wasn't for Chai I would've taken my own life a long time ago. Chuckles. So I was making tea and it's nice and warm outside. You know the 4 'O clock light warmness. The sky slowly turning orange-red gradient. Soon it'll be Violet when looked through my bathroom window. It's a cool view, so I sometimes stand there for a while even after I'd done with the peeing. Especially if my neighbor is cooking, the smoke would be all upon the sky, and orange and violet beams gliding through it give a cool view. Where was I? So I was making tea, and all these snippets of memories come back running to me. And the funny thing was that these are memories of events that have never happened, you know. But it felt like events that I'd already experienced,