a daylight dream

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...