Aathira Jim's Blog, page 7

Glimpses

There are things that you can't put a name to. They come and go, like fleeting emotions. Labels that have to be chucked out.
Today, when I lie in bed with a sore throat, feeling cold and miserable, you come in uninvited, invading my thoughts. I can't help or control it and I know only too well that it would be stupid of me to even try. You are a torrential rain on days like these, pouring down incessantly. 
I expect foolishly to hear from you. Not that you would. But I hope against hope, against the better judgement of me. Days like these, I wish you were here. Days like these, I look for a silver lining. Days like these, I half expect to see your name flashing on my screen. 

Trouble in Paradise

Image Source: Caroline Knopf

In your indifference, I felt your absenceIn your silence, those unspoken wordsHeavy with meaning, lingering in the air between usIn your torture, I felt your pleasure 
Neglect was your weapon, tears were mineThose few memories of us are now scarred Not that you cared, it was my burden to carry Sins of past, washed by the shore 
Maybe it was doomed right from the startHopes of saving resulted only in debris But the day you decided to leaveThe day I lost you, that was when I found myself too
Linking this post to Magpie Tales - Mag 305. 

Dream or Nightmare

Wanderlust

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Exploring new places. Trying out different cuisines. Meeting new people. The symptoms are stronger than ever before. You, my dear, have gotten a bad case of wanderlust. 
Pack up your suitcases, take your camera and maybe some of those books that have been gathering dust on your bedside table. The notebooks that you have been meaning to write in; pack them too, you will need it. Leave behind those labels and boxes that are stifling you. 
Excess baggage is certainly not permitted. They are best left back. A solo trip, that's what you crave. 
Those shorts that have been bought and stuffed in the back of your cupboard because you never got around to losing that roll of excess fat, pack that too. Nobody is going to judge and certainly not care, this is your trip. Spread your wings and fly. And who knows, maybe, just maybe you may discover who you are. 

Wrong Turn

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Remember those mazes that you loved solving as a child? Where you have to make your way through and find the treasure? You know you have to reach the right place and there is only one way out. Sometimes you take a wrong turn and then you have to go back and erase your steps, in order to take the right one. What if that was not the way it was supposed to go? What if the wrong turn leaves you at the right destination? What if that was where you are meant to be, even though that was not what you had in mind or planned? What then? What then?

More than just another day

You kiss me goodbye before leaving my side. I am only half awake as I turn over and kiss you back sleepily. I hear you sigh one last time with my eyes closed. I turn over and crush my face into your pillow, on your side of our bed. It still smells of you and I snuggle underneath the duvet and it's almost like you never left. 
I can even feel the dent you left behind in the pillow along with a few stray hairs. After what seems like a long time, I finally feel content. I know you will be back. Just like how I know it in my heart that when we had said forever two years back, we had meant it. 
On days like these that you leave early, I miss our breakfasts together. How you would make me scrambled eggs, a bit on the runny side just as I liked while I buttered our toasts. Sometimes even burning them. I am a bad cook, unlike you. You can whip up dishes in a jiffy. And that's what had drawn me into you in the first place. How you paid no heed to the jokes and continued to do what you love. 
We had been reckless, eloping and getting married in secret. The photograph we had taken stands on our bedside table reminds of that night. Me laughing at something you told and you with your hands around me looking at me with an amused expression on your face. Of all the pictures that we have taken, this one remains by so far my favorite. 
A cold wind breaks through the window as I open my eyes. The bedroom curtains fluttering gently. That's strange. I remember locking the windows last night before going to bed. I climb out of bed and stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Blood shot eyes staring back at me, disheveled hair. Another night spending tossing and turning. It has been this way since you left. 
There is still a faint whiff of aftershave above the bathroom sink. I refuse to believe what they tell me. How can you be gone when I can still feel your presence? Like today morning. There are days when I don't feel you for days on end. But you come back, you always do. Forever was what we promised. And promises are what you have always kept. I splash cold water on my water and for an instant, I think I see a shadow in the mirror behind me. It's gone before I wipe my face. 
You and me. Smoke and mirrors. Scrambled eggs and badly burnt toasts. Late night rides and long walks home. Messy hair and butterfly kisses. Forever and beyond. 

Red And White

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Tiny slashes across her wrists Drop by drop, red against whiteBlood on ceramic The physical pain now matching her inner turmoil 
A little compassion was all she wanted Her cries for help fell on deaf ears She was supposed to be immune Locking away her emotions like she was expected to 
Her sanity went oozing out One, two, three... Too much in such a little timeLife was what had happened to her In this corner of a dusty bathroom 
People like her had no place in a cruel world They were labeled as weaklingsSurvival of the fittest was the ruleWeeded out one by one
Blade against smooth skin She had given upAlmost But now she had a new reason to fightTo carry on living Inside her a new life bloomed 

Memory

Memory and I, we go a long way back I have tried to kill her many times Tried pushing her into a well From the edge of a cliff top 
But she was stubborn like a stain Refusing to leave my side She drained me, took away everything And so I decided to trick her 
We went on a journey by boat Into the ocean at night Side by side, frolicking Sharing a jolly time 
It's time for you to go, I tell her She looks at me in panic I can see the pleading in her eyesI try to shrug it off 
I take out my matchbox and light a matchstick In the flickering flame I see her weeping Before having second thoughts I light her on fire and watch her burn and burn
Burn till she's no more than a fistful of ashes Lying on the floor of the boatI take it and scatter it in the water around me Watching it floating and dissolving, becoming one with the ocean
I look around, dawn is breaking The sky is turning a blushing pink I row back to the shore all alone Feeling strangely empty 
Her death was what I wanted all this while But now that she's gone, why do I feel so guilty?Why this hole in my chest? I walk back to my life, each step heavy with exhaustion... 

Ruins

Image Source: Francesca Woodman

I was a ruin when you met me. An ancient one at that. You fell in love with my cracks, the dust gathering around my soul. But you lost interest, you always do. 
Like the time you craved perfection, when you knew from the beginning that I was not. In fact, I'm scared of shiny, new things, unlike you. Things that have no soul; unblemished, untainted. 
My roots go deep. You prefer to admire me from far, yet, you will never make me home...
Linking this post to Magpie Tales - Mag 303. 

The Year I Turned Back to Books

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I have taken many vacations in my life. But the one that's imprinted in my memory is the summer vacations after my 10th standard boards. Though I have been a reader all my life, there came a reading slump during my high school years due to lack of libraries and the scarcity of books in my life. My reading for these few years were limited to the Harry Potter books that I read as soon as it came out, which was once in a blue moon. But that was about it. The various tuition classes and the board examinations and vast syllabus left me with little time to devote to my first love. 
So when I got a long break after my exams, we went back home and this was when I rediscovered my love for reading with a flourish. This was the year I discovered Sidney Sheldon; a startling difference from the books that I was used to till then. These were labelled as 'grown up' books, meaning they had plenty of thrill that kept me up late nights devouring book after book. I still remember my first Sidney Sheldon book, The Other Side of Midnight. I was so in awe that I went and bought all his books that I could get my hands on. 
Now, these are books that deal with sex, murder, betrayal and what not. For the hormone filled, rebelling teenager that I was, these were my staple diet. The heroines of Sheldon's novel reveled in their sexuality, they did not shy away from desires; they were spunky and real (it was for me then). And just like the regular teenager, when I was admonished for reading these books, I made sure I read more of it. I also read The Da Vince Code and all of Dan Brown's books. It so happens to be a book fetish of mine- if I discover and love a new author, I kind of go overboard and try to read all their books. Yes, that was one adventurous vacation! 
The impact these books made me on was tremendous. I discovered a genre that I'm hooked to even today - thrillers. Crime, murder, mystery set against dangerous backdrops. But my most favorite among the lot are psychological thrillers. Gone girl, The Girl on the Train, Tell me your Dreams are among the few that top my list. Even today, when I'm stressed, I prefer to get lost in a world where the author dwells into the psyche of characters and it's easy for me to forget all my worries and just get lost in their world. 
And when I took to writing, this was a genre that I wanted to explore as well. I tried my hand at writing a few short stories and I'm still trying to get the hang of it. Though being far from perfect, I try to be a better writer with each word I create. Today, for some reason, I felt like writing about the books that have impacted me as a person. At the risk of being labelled a psycho, I continue to dwell into the minds of complicated characters. I have come to a better understanding of people and that they are not all good or bad, that sometimes even good people can do bad things. It's just a matter of perspective. 
This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.