#feelingsofateenager

[tanishaganguly]

Regardless of how many times life reminds us of it's impermanence, we never take it seriously. Or maybe because we don't want to take it seriously. It's probably because we are all afraid of the truth, at least I am. But there comes a point when the truth almost slaps your face and you almost slip and lose your balance.

Like now, when I'm trying to use my pain to express. But how do I tell you, that I'm not an artist? That I cannot dig deep down and bring out beautiful colours and paint pictures of honeydew sunsets and starry nights.

How do I tell you, that I'm not a writer? That I don't look at the shattered remains of my heart and wonder expressively. I can't reflect my emotions in sentences, when all I can do is barely feel.

How do I tell you, that I'm not a storyteller? That my mouth fumbles and fails almost everytime to find the right words, to speak in the synchronized way.

How do I tell you, that all these makes me feel like I'm nobody. That I now find myself incapable of knowing who I am.

How do I tell you?

//tanisha//

[tanishaganguly]

The feeling where you stay up at night, stare at your ceiling, ask yourself an infinite number of questions, then sit there and debate on whether or not you actually want to know the answer.

The feeling where you wonder, where you actually stand in life, where you feel like you are not good enough, that you need to be something else to be successful and happy.

That nagging feeling deep inside your bones that there has to be something more to this. Something bigger, something meaningful, a confirmation for your existence.

At that very point of time, you feel like running away from the reality, but can you actually avoid the consequences of running away from the reality?

So, don't. Don't run away. Be there, right there. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. It's okay if it's a heavy sigh. It's okay if a few drops of tear rolls down your cheeks. It's okay if you cry. It's okay if you shout and howl and cry. You deserve to embrace your dark days but don't romanticize it. Please don't.

You have to get up and work harder to make things work out for you. You have to get up and face the crinkled world which is conspiring against you. You have to get up and show that you are not afraid, that you can do it.

You have to get up and open your eyes to see the beauty you can create and the power you have, for you are strong and you can do it.

//tanisha//

[tanishaganguly]

The yellow ball of fire changed to hues of orange and pink. It merged with the sky, like juice-mix dissolving in a glass of water. I wish even I could affiliate myself with my life and dissolve in it.

The clouds were like cotton candy, as though they blushed at the warm touch of the sun. Silhouettes of birds flew home across a sky that was now magenta and seemed like a splash of colours, all resonating with each other. This makes me believe that every sunset is for the hopeful ones. The ones who smile even after they fall apart. The ones who constantly go through darkness but choose to always rise again and again.

With the setting sun, came a sky of fire blazing astonishingly. Sunset is for the brave hearts who choose to appreciate the beauty of something when the magical splendour fades.

There is a thing about sunset. It says that even the darkest days can end beautifully.

//tanisha//

[tanishaganguly]

I'm reading a book, I shouldn't read.

I'm watching a movie, I shouldn't watch.

Why?

Because it's not the right time.

The letters and the emotions that builds up the story is spurious.

The characters and the plot that completed the movie is unfitting.

I'm driving to a place, I shouldn't go.

I'm listening to the music, I shouldn't listen to.

Why?

Because it's not the right time.

The road that leads to the place haunts me.

The words and the tune that creates the song cripples me down.

So,

I close my book and shut down my laptop.

I keep my keys aside and switch off my phone.

I crawl myself to bed.

I sit in the corner and hug my knees.

A speck of sunshine is dawning upon.

I'm still waiting for the right time to come.

Maybe tonight,

maybe tommorow evening,

maybe Saturday morning,

maybe....

//tanisha//

[tanishaganguly]

You know my name,not my story.

You know my name, not my story.

You've seen me smiling as bright as the sunshine, not resting my face between my knees for hours on end.

You've seen me listening to Sia's Cheap Thrills and tapping my feet, not murmur Floyd's Wish you were here.

You've heard me speaking the truth when it was my mistake, not lying when the fault wasn't mine.

You've seen me doodling flowers and funny things, not the twisted threads of black in my soul.

You've seen the always-elated me, not the gloomy me.

You've lived the frolic moments with me, not the terrifying darkness that engulfs my soul each passing day.

You've heard the random words I spoke, not seen the love for you in my eyes.

You know my name, not my story.

//Tanisha//