a daylight dream

I had a premonition that March would be a sweet and congenial month, but it didn’t prove to be so, or not as directly. It had been beautiful nevertheless, just like all months are. The first three weeks of March were rather confusing and intimidating. I’ve had this belief that everything would turn out fine in the future but all of a sudden, due to spending time with adults and hearing to their complaints and negativity, it kind of pinned me down to the reality of the world. Other than that, I felt so small in terms of realising my dreams and it all made no sense for some reason. My dreams of inspiring people and helping them to become their best versions were bombarded and reduced by how things are at the moment. So many things aren’t being run effectively and efficiently, hindering space for growth, creativity and fruitful implementation. Those cues, because I’m a little bit sensitive, affected me. However, I didn’t give in to those negative thoughts becaus...

Since it’s March and evidently spring, we awake to a sky adorned with an inscrutable peachy hue hanging round the circumference of the east. Our eyes are not used to being greeted with a light so soft and apparent; habituated to the winter morning darkness, still so hopeful, though. It’s not so cold for me to sprint to the balcony and watch the faint clouds take shape in spite of the dry eastern winds, that dissipate the clouds if they ever form, casting a veil of uncertain whiteness as the morning ages. I watch the hue become more prominent, till the sun peeks through the buildings, it’s shine radiant and smile-inducing. I think about how well we adapted to winter, how well we appreciated the barren tree branches and the greyish tinge in those old dehydrated leaves. How we spent the shiny afternoons finding solace in the sunlight, exposing our faces to feel the warmth and let it filtrate the worries and evaporate what’s trivial and cunningly unnecessary. We did our...

One does feel lost sometimes— overwhelm strikes in, toppling foundations you might have spent so much dreams on building. It raises questions that keep you searching for answers— answers that oppose all what you used to believe in before. However, one should not lose everything at such temporary moments. One should not lose the faith that everything will be alright and that one will eventually attain balance and fulfilment. Those eerie questions are only there to spark up the mystery of our world and our society. Those questions are rephrased to signify: “ who are we? ” In those questions, we don’t know what we want in life. We are uncertain where our paths may lead us, whether we took the correct decisions, if we are where we are supposed to be. They’re immensely challenging to answer— are there even any answers? It all depends on your faith in what’s ahead. If you trust the world well enough, you’ll sleep knowing that you need not know the answers at all but allow...

I’ve been melting into my words, Listen to them, They’ll remind you of me. Finally it’s not so hard to speak, But I stay silent, In those memories. For words of humans they’ll drown us both, Taking us down by gravity. I’ll learn to ascend, Against uneven odds, The extraordinary snippets of our dreams. The wings soaring across the sky, Have been lead by passion for so long. What does happen, I don’t know, When hearts decide to give up, To let go, When the sun bickers the atmosphere, Taunting us till we melt away, You’ll see my words, In the puddles we make. Directions bemuse me, For I’m involved in an emotion, Sparking every aspect in its way. Some day we will find, The place where birds crawl, Into their nests, We will be like them, Insomniac birds, For they watch the moonlight, While the whole world sleeps, Their reality is inherently a daydream, They need not rest Nor close their eyes, For time could be wa...

I’ve mentioned before how I thought trimming the flowers of happiness is an essential way to sustain it, to avoid its overgrowth, prevent it from blinding our perception from seeing things as they really are— in both darkness and magic. Now, having given it so much thought, I believe it’s cardinal to trim the rays of  ambition , at least personally. I think that we all live in some sort of bubble that encompasses our lives— the circumstances, treasured values, problems and priorities. This bubble shields us from the outside world yet can easily burst to allow changes to set in. In some ways, it defines who we are in the tangible aspects of our everyday life so we choose to keep floating within it wherever we are. For a long time, I was quite opposed to the fact that I had to live in a bubble. I wanted to rebel and burst what was confining me; change my life, seek ultimate levels of independence and let new things in. I think it was quite normal to feel that way, es...

It’s Saturday, a once dreaded day of the week. I remember waking up as a child not knowing what to do, or how I was going to spend the day. It was always spent at home, and since that was never favourable, Saturday was the slowest; inspiring all the torpidity and sunken spirits sufficient enough to draw a frown on my face. But everything changes, I believe. When one gets so close to affirming that certain things will stay the same forever, a force shapes itself to sabotage it, and bring about circumstances that blow those false beliefs away. I wake up on a Saturday with a smile stretched so wide that it bickers the sunrise to hurry up and show itself. After minutes spent sipping a calming herbal tea and rereading poetry from the night before, I find myself racing down the stairs, the fresh morning breeze alleviating my steps, allowing me to glide across the streets, walking and observing the many changes occurring as the light dominates the atmosphere instead of the pale m...

It’s been surreal lately; profusely perplexing and untrue. It’s difficult to discern between what’s real and what’s not. I keep asking myself whether this state of mind I’m currently experiencing is because I have recovered from anxiety? Is it because I am mending my heart? Breaking from irrelevant attachments? Is it what a normal life should be like? Though it’s difficult to admit it, I think I have to. I’ve never been as happy as I am right now— which is excruciatingly confusing. I never thought I could be happy or ever attain peace-of-heart, thus to feel so at ease is quite new and dismantling—  I don’t know if it’s real. In January, I was really enraptured to the extent that my heart used to beat so fast that I’d feel quite ill and unstable, that I had to take a calming pill when it got to the point that I couldn’t breathe properly. This was inception: the beautiful kind of overwhelm when you start a new era free from limiting beliefs and habits. Wh...

New starts are mornings; whether pristine and clear, wrapped up in fogs or amateur mists, veiled by the rain or lastly overcast by clouds— so many of them that it hurts to see the sky. New starts are mistakes. The most excruciating of them. The nights in which guilt and remorse lingers and gnaws at your soul— they are the new starts when you decide to dust them away, with a spring in your step and grace in your fluttering eyelids. A new start is moving on. A haunting memory perhaps, nibbling on your conscience, invading your dreams. Perhaps it could be the loss of memory all together; snippets of times here and there, not remembering what to be grateful for, not reminding yourself of what’s important and what should be held on to. But it’s a new start when presence starts to be acknowledged, and every collision of the air molecules starts to make sense— it’s a new start. A new start is a new season— be it grey winters, green springs, blue summers or maroon autumns. A n...

I was walking around the campus, thinking of how beautiful that morning was. I usually walk around a lot, trying to discover something new— whether it’s some kind of new tree, a different shape in the clouds, seasonal changes and so on. I’ve noticed the morning arriving earlier than usual, because it was seemingly spring, and everything had to just arrive all at once. Mornings will always be my favourite. They’ll always hold so much hope and positivity, and I’m inclined to let people notice how profoundly observable that is. I’ve taken a decision to acknowledge this initiative while watching the different flowers spread their petals open as sunlight pierced through them, wishing the world a good morning with their unfolding colours and vivid beauty. I decided to tell everyone I meet “good morning”— and so I did. I smiled to everyone’s face and wished them a nice day in some of the ways I could think of. I liked how people smiled back, even though from within th...