Thoughts,rumination,stories,and imagination never dies.

The same story has different stories of different characters, different characters with different feelings, and different feelings make different emotions. And the mix-up of feelings and clash of emotions make a story.

[kaathaharu]

I see the reflection of myself in the mirror. Oh! What a big nose!

"But the noes, I get in my every approach, are bigger & louder. 

Piercing me deeper, in the core."

Everything has changed since Dec 2022, yet not the nose, "not the noes."

[kaathaharu]

Reciting - 1

Where should I start from? From the end or the beginning? Or, neither the end nor the beginning? I am paused in the process. Life has frozen for me.

Where am I? "Destiny!"

So, is this my destiny? Isn't it beautiful? I am meant to be here. But, I don't want to be here.

Fucking destiny. Embrace those mistakes; every mistake manipulates, "destiny." Not expected, untraceable, not patterned.

'The reason is me, Curious, impatient, careless me.' Sins seem appealing. I am sinister. And, I destroyed something peculiar. Silent scream. I'm dancing in the pool. Full of red dense fluid, "BLOOD," stain all over. Bloodied and clotted, it isn't plotted.

Consequence is destiny. Destiny is unpredictable. Unpredictable is the act. Unpredictability is inescapable. Escapable is reality. Painted with blood, clotted all my scars, distorted my vision, assorted all my acts together, thwarted the fortune, deported my sense, comported the end.

Was I meant to be here?

"Is this the end?" "What is the end?" "Where is the end?" "How is this the end?"

Five days, four hours, and 23 minutes. All these questions kept running in my mind. Every time, every question has different answers. The end cannot be ended so simply.

Do I want to end? 

No, I don't! It's time to add, add more. Add more words to a paragraph. More paragraphs per page. Additional pages in a book. A 500-page book, filled with a name. A name more than stories and more than poetry. The name has different emotions, feelings, and meanings on every page. No, it's weird.

[kaathaharu]

Scare

"I am still fallin'

Closer to the end again

My life follows the same rhythm. I'm getting closer to the end again. I know, once more, that the end will be the same. If that is so, my shoulders are ready to bear the burden of sin. I am aware that I am again hitting the same leg of the chair. This time, my baby toe is going to hurt so much that I will die in agony. while my lungs will breathe alive. My heart will beat alive, my eyes will see alive, but my soul will be lost forever. And I'll be a living dead.

What I consider is turning someone into a living dead is a 'SIN'!

I used to believe in destiny, and now I feel destiny and karma are parallel to each other. The destiny has followed or karma is hitting back at me. I catch myself doing a SIN to myself. I'm 3 feet away from causing the SIN. Not knowing when I'm gonna hit the end 3 feet away?

"You are still this part of me

Even though I said that I never cared"

Different parts of me, and my soul are what I haven't cared about. But every time I commit a SIN my soul hurts more than my heart or my shameful eyes cheering myself for doing the SIN.

"Knowing what I've done

Know what I'm becoming"

My spirit. I am compelling my spirit in the SIN. Funny thing! I thought I was the sinister, but now after getting a taste of my own medicine. I am confused if I am the victim or I'm the assailant. A perfect storm in which I will be my own victim and ask for forgiveness to myself.

[kaathaharu]

I packed my laptop.

In my bag. Grabbed a pen and now, I am on a journey. Journey to find words for my feelings.

The nib of my pen. Painting the colorless pictures of words.

My ears, roamin' around. Looking for words.

The chaos around me!

Every single particle of this chaos is escaping from 'reality'. Once again, they will realize the finality. and, They are ready to lose, "the escape from 'reality' "

I'm in between the chaos.

Every time chaos comes running back to me. I find myself always there. Every time chaos comes chasing after me. I don't 'escape'. I always remain stunned, immobilized. Hear every chaos around me.

They have 'nature's. Every chaos has its flavor. I like the bitter one.

Today, I am counting the days that I lived. Tomorrow, I will breathe. breathe, For severity. Someday, I'll be tripped over the dim light.

And my silence. My silence will live with me. My silence will dominate every chaos around me.

Every flavor of chaos.

Every flavor of chaos.

"Poor You!" You cannot enjoy the flavors.

[kaathaharu]

having a lot and no one to care. it hurts.

Is it heart because it hurt?

[kaathaharu]

Filling the blanks.

Filing the feelings,

Filling the emptiness,

Filling the blanks,

Blank Pages,

I find myself larking over my own feelings. Hesitating myself. I have lived enough. I leave stains. I appeal gains. I release inks through my heart on these blank pages.

I am caged. It doesn't matter how am I raised. It doesn't matter how am I dressed? It doesn't matter what I faced. It doesn't matter what is messed? It doesn't matter how my words are based.

The thing that matters is the thread.

I find myself knotted. I find myself blooded. I find myself painted. The blood that can't be clotted. Emotions are slaughtered.

"But my life isn't sorted." -Bayu

I love the full stops '.' Full stop and me, ending and starting at the same point. Words end not feelings. A full stop is just a pause for words.

Mummering birds chirping around my ears. Filling the black space and pages.

"I'll keep dreaming."

D R E A M I N G

with an open eye, eye.

H A L L U C I N A T I N G

within I.

R U M M I N A T I N G

a lie.

I M A G I N I N G

I will try.

Standing on the edge of a corner. I am on a point upside down. Gravity is pulling me. I find myself bondage to threads. Knotted, Clotted, Blooded, Slaughtered.

Every blank I fill in is incomplete. Still, every time I find myself fillingfeeling the blanks.

[kaathaharu]

and I almost stabbed my heart. heard my heart pounding in my ribs. not ribs actually, actually all over me. rushing Blood through my veins and nerves, holding a ton of emotions. Emotions that are left untold and left unfold.

"The emotion" Why would you even care?

having a lot and no one to care. it hurts.

Is it heart because it hurt?

heart caged between the ribs. must be because it is meant to hold all the emotion within itself. it feels heavy.

"poor me" I cannot hold the heaviness that my heart can hold.

uncountable tons of emotion, unreached cores of heart, unbearable heaviness.

and I almost stabbed my heart, so I should not hold what my heart holds.

[kaathaharu]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 100 likes!

[kaathaharu]

The differences

 Having nothing to write, I started writing. My fingers are curious to write. It feels my fingers are pre-prepared to pour the feelings that are traveling through the veins from the heart. And I can easily see the veins and feelings flowing through it. And my heart, MY HEART is pounding hard to push the emotions to the fingers through veins. With the same emotions, I am writing.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for you," She said it, she feels she is not enough for me!

"So do I",  "Having differences is making us feel so!"

We both are different, and we both have differences between us. You must wonder what kind of person am I?

I love having bitter melon for dinner. I like walking at night through dark alleys. I like adorning the stars rather than the moon. Cause I have a moon, yes she! She is the moon for me. Should I care about the meteoroid that is hanging on the ceiling of space having the most beautiful moon with me? Her eyes sparkle as diamonds, I love watching the twinkles on and in her eyes. I care about her more than me.

If I could get lost in the maze alleys, I would choose the alley in her eyes. I want to be lost, in the alleys. 

Love is a maze. Love is a labyrinth. You will always hustle either to find a way to go in deep into the maze or to get out of the maze. But every time you find yourself locked and blocked in a death-end corner. And every time the corners have different shades of feeling and emotion on them.

You'll never know how deep you are, or how far you're from the core of the maze. Butterflies will be butterflying on your belly, and chills will skate from your head to the leg. The only difference is, butterflies can be of any theme, dark, light, lighter, or darker. Chills can be of different temperatures, cold, warm, or hot.

The interesting part is, when butterflies with light themes are butterflying in your belly, cold chills can glide from your neck to your heart.

I want to feel every theme of butterfly butterflying on my belly. I want to feel every temperature of chills gliding through my spines. And I want myself in the maze, in the maze alleys in her eyes, in the labyrinth of love with her. 

She thinks I am strong when I see myself weak. Those differences that I was talking about. But the thing is I felt strong when she pointed me strong. I felt glowed up. I felt something strong in me. And I love her.

She thinks I am capable. In fact, yes I am capable. I am capable of holding all the feelings in me. The feelings of love. And I love her.

Having differences made her feel that she is not good enough for me?

"I am not your type"

I would smile and reply, "You are not my type. But being not my type is my type." 

Today I let my emotions write the least thing about her. Why least? It's because she is mine, the passion I am holding for her. And She is only the person with the right to feel the complete emotions that I have for her.

My hands are not so curious to write as it becomes to hold her hands. My love travels from my heart through my veins to her.

"The Differences?"

make us both interested in each other. The Differences 

make us both passionate. The Differences 

make us curious. The Differences 

make us love each other. The Differences 

If differences make us together. I love. The Differences

And I LOVE HER MORE.............<3

[kaathaharu]

Past

Fate can be manipulated, destiny can be framed up, and the future can be changed, but the past? 

Past, past, past, the more I write the letter 'past', I am leaving the letter 'past' in the past. The past is something that will long last. The past is something that will make life vast. The past is something that is just a past. Having no clue where I am taking the flow of words, I am just going with the flow and leaving every word in the past. Not going with the flow, I am just going with the flow. Now I know, I am not strong enough to flow with a flow or take the flow with my flow.

I was never strong, not only me any life that has ever existed is not strong, was never strong. Not me neither you nor anyone else is strong. Being weak is the strongest trait you can have. The weakness that I hold within me is the strongest edge that I rely upon to survive. The weakness is the past.

The time slips through our fingers. I rely upon time, I rely upon the past, I rely upon myself that has been through all those past. And the past relies on me. The past is weaker, the past is so weak that relies on the weak me. I give life to the past. I live, I breathe, I survive, I hustle, I struggle, so that I can rely on every past that I will be leaving in the upcoming future so the past can rely on me so that past can live within me. Leaving and living every sin of my, past is something I rely on. 

You would wonder what sin is.

If you want me to answer it in my own words. Sin is something that makes someone living dead.

"Don't be afraid of sins, make me the part of your sin"

Actually, I am not afraid of sins.

I am afraid of killing hope,

I am afraid of killing smiles,

I am afraid of making anyone cry,

I am afraid of hurting people,

I am afraid of making people a living dead,

Since living in the past is what we do surviving in the present.

I am afraid to live, to rely on the past. The past where I will have the sins. 

It was all enough for me when Purple became a living dead. Everyday, Everytime, Everywhere, Everymoment, the tears of Purple hunt me. I live the sin, and the sin wrenches my heart draining every drop of blood from my heart.  

"Purple"

Her hope died,

Her smile died,

Her tears dried,

She is now just a living dead inside.

"I am not strong"          Neither me.

She was a hope for a new beginning and I ended it before it began.

Dry red roses.

[kaathaharu]

A nightmare to be remembered

'Expect the unexpected!'. The only words I believe in. Time is irresponsible, unpredictable moments will disperse you in million pieces.

A month back, my life was in a flow. In a calm, steady, and fluent flow. It was the silence before the storm. 

A morning began with warm beams striking my butt, I was relaxed, and allowing me to fantasize about the luxury that was not even conceivable. My eyes were dying with ease. My body was unconcerned about anything around me. And I? I was just flying in my dreams. With butterflies. The warm feeling of reality on my body. Letting me feel feetless in my dream. I was hovering with the warm breeze around the sky between the clouds. The butterflies were leading me to paradise. I was walking on the stairs to the heaven. My feetless body walking on the golden stairs between the clouds, I reached before a dark door. 

The door began to thud. It was roaring as hell. I was in fear. My eyes and ears were alive to reality. Someone was knocking on the door. The tenant's son was there. "Dai, your brothers are fighting". Having no clue. My two brothers were clashing with each other for no reason. 'Maila Bhai' was about to slam 'Kancha Bhai' with a brick, which pissed me off, a kick 'Maila Bhai' was slammed on the floor.

The kick hurt him hard, his sentiments were hurt more than the surface of his body. He left, directed toward his room, and slammed the door. He locked himself inside. 

A moment of silence gathered over the compound for some minutes.

I went to check on my older brother in the room as a cold feeling shot through my nerves. I knocked on the door, but he didn't reply. Fortunately, there was a way to peek into the room from the balcony.

I peeked in.

Such an irresponsible time. The kick that I hit 'Maila' kicked me back even harder. I was dispersed into a million pieces when I saw a rope hanging on the ceiling and 'Maila' making a knot. The coldness washed over me.

Gathering and collecting every possible piece of me which was dispersed all over the void. I hurried towards the door. Again, the dark door. Now, I was the one banging the door hard as hell. I was kicking the door as hard as possible. I was stunned, no I was astonished, no I was horrified, no I was blindsided, the contempt feeling that I was feeling when I was not able to break the door to save my brother. Maybe the door was strong or maybe I was weak. Or maybe the time was irresponsible.

Every person available around was over the balcony crying, screaming, wailing, keening, and calling to stop 'Maila' from hanging. He was all ready to leave the godforsaken body. His 21 grams of soul was a minute away from heaven or hell when I saw he was about to hang himself. 

I was blind, I was broken, I was impatient, I was weak, to break the door. But the death was not so easy for him. 'Maila' opened the door.

Neither he nor I or anyone else had nothing to lose or nothing to choose. 

Now it's been a month, maybe he regrets what he did. 

He didn't die,

Maybe he is dying alive. 

He didn't hang,

Maybe he is choking alive. 

Spoilin' 

Spoilin' the reality, 

Recoilin' 

Recoilin' the normality,

Toilin'

Toilin' the finality,

Wailin'

Wailin' the partiality.

A nightmare to be remembered.

[kaathaharu]

Tears that I let to flow

I awoke for the second time around 11 a.m. after my mother called me to get up. The lazy me forcing my body to get up but the mind again slamming me on the bed.

"What happened?", "What happened to you?", "Why are you like this nowadays?", "What is making you so?" A sequence of questions my mum posed that I'd been pondering for months made me awake and leave the room cause I didn't even have a word to reply to her. I left the room and had my face washed, a bowl of water in my hand that I poured from my head, the bag full of air that I was exhaling, those eyes I was staring at the mirror. But I was not sensing anything, no sense of vision, no sense of touch, no sense of hearing. I was blank, blank as a black empty canvas, the same sequence of questions that my mom posed me was stabbing my heart that left me senseless.

I again walked to my room. I again slammed myself on my bed. I again closed my eyes. I again posed the same sequence of questions. My mom again opened the door. Mom again attacked me with the same series of questions.

"Stop it!" I gave a voice to my mother *weak, loud, soft, helpless voice*

I got up and wore my shirt and trousers. I packed my diary in my bag. I packed all the series of questions in the abyss of my head just to escape them and her. I was leaving or I was escaping or I was fleeing. She held my bag to not let me escape from her and the questions. I leave the room, leaving the bag and diary with her. She followed me to another room, closed the door, and again the same series of questions.

"Are you fine?" (No how could I be fine) but I replied, "Yes I am".

"What happened?"(Everything that should not have happened) but I answered, "Nothing".

"Why do you not talk we us nowadays?"(I just don't want to talk with anyone) but I remained silent.

"Why don't you share anything with us nowadays?"(Nothing I going well) still, I remained silent.

My silence made her eyes burst with tears. My silence made her voice whimper. My silence made the silent room turn into a cry-yard.

Fuck me, I again tried to flee from the yard. I again tried to escape. Again she held my hand pushing the questions from her delicate lips. More than her words her mewl eyes were speaking, but I didn't want her eyes or lips to speak neither I was able to stop the flow of the tears from her eyes. I let the tears to flow from her eyes that should be flowing from mine. I ran, I escaped, I flee, I left her weeping.

Now, where am I going? where is my destiny? where is my fate?

I will find a way that one or another, I'll be happy, I will be more than just alive,

I will lie or I will just die,

I will fly or I will just cry,

I will try or I will just kill the self of my,

I will run or I will just turn,

I will deny or I will just be psy.

[kaathaharu]

No it's weird

Looking behind I was someone. I was impatient, I used to have passion for anything that attracted my eyes. I used to push myself to the most possible extent.

No it's weird.

You are clueless what I am talking about. Am I making it more weird?

Let's talk bottles.

No I was not even able to drink from any bottle when I was just born. Ohh!, My poor mouth, it used to wear out my delicate and weak cheeks and lips when I struggled to suck the nipples just to survive. I sucked!. My mother, I am confused why she used to feed me so much giving the extreme pain over my checks and lips that used to make me cry so hard. Sometimes the soft and mushy breasts used to make me suffocate, suffocate for milk, suffocate for breath. Ohh pity her love.

Nursing bottle, nursing bottles were not suffocating since I was grown to a level where hands were hardly capable of holding 0.25 litre nursing bottles, I will thank my legs for supporting the nursing bottles. But the harsh rubber makes me miss earlier nipples. I sucked!. Soft and mushy nipples, I used to beg my mum to let me breastfeed.

Why nursing bottle's'? not nursing bottle?, it is because I used to test my hands and legs throwing the nursing bottle's', as far as possible that used to crack it or break it.Poor me!

When I used to be thirsty, I remember every possible person who used to feed me the water from a bottle cap to every possibly large bottle drank from. I grew up!

It took me 20 years to be a passionate & proper sucker from not even a sucker. I sucked grass from tiny chimney of a water gun bottles to 18 beer bottles.

I sucked! I sucked! I sucked!

It is weird, I still want nipples to suck, I still crave to be a little helpless, little weak, little tiny, and little bit poor.

Since

I sucked! I sucked! I sucked!

[kaathaharu]

Two sentences per day #6

Heart full of red, and the sky full of blue.

Aside from everything fantasies are left in the queue.

[kaathaharu]

Two sentences per day #5

Heart full of red, and the sky full of blue.

Aside from everything fantasies are left in the queue.

[kaathaharu]

Two sentences per day #4

Time is changing and situations are too.

As I grew, life is bringing me a different hue.

[kaathaharu]

Two sentences per day #3

Enough now, upsetting my life has been.

River of incessant tragedies, now I can't even swim.