contemplation on time

I am huddled up in my sheets and I haven’t turned the lights on since 4. I’ve set up the whole mood to begin writing something. For the past three days this week, every day I frantically wake up at odd hours; sometimes at 3am, sometimes at 6.30am, sometimes at 2 in the noon with an intense lever pulling at me. “ If I don’t write this exact thought I’m thinking, right now it’ll die” But my laptop doesn’t start, my phone hangs, it’s usually too dark or i’m too lazy to pull a pen out in an old fashioned manner and scrawl. My thoughts run too quick and my hands never catch up, it’s a curse and not once have I been able to complete my whole idea. They never exist on paper, only inside me. But then maybe an hour or so later, I’ll be typing away and anybody can guess: the thought is tainted now, too many spikes of unwanted interjecting rods have poked into it’s skin, and now it’s a whole different organism. Whatever i’ve written, consequentially looks disfigured. This isn’t wha...

                                                                                                                     My father is an avid reader. I paused before writing this sentence because I felt like ‘avid’ wasn’t a word that was justifying enough. He read so much that one time when I was 12, I brought my friends home and the first thing they said, almost simultaneously was ‘wow, this looks like a freaking library’. Oddly, not once had I thought of this. I grew up among tons and tons of books and it seemed perfectly normal to me. He would buy books out of a sheer impulse. There are times, he’s told me, in college when he was down to literally his last bucks but preferred to buy a ...

September was her month and it looked like she’d taken the blue out of everything in the world and painted the month with it. All of this gloom and suddenly 500 kilometres wasn’t what I was worried about. I was afraid of calling you on that dreadful day. but your new best friend gave me your number so I dropped you a text instead. ‘Happy birthday’, i said. A high school musical.   A few inside jokes. Some songs I would’ve never listened to if it wasn’t for you. These are the only things I would’ve missed if I hadn’t met you. Yet, between us, am I the only person who has lost something ? Something I think about more often than I’d like to admit. Something that slightly aches where there isn’t much to ache. To write this, it took me a year and two of your favorite songs. I’ve read these lines a thousand times and each time, I feel differently but none of them are gonna make it on this paper. Each time, I want to introduce somethin...

Today the lights when out and I wasn't scared. I waited and waited but the lights didn't come back on. Its fortunate that I'll leave tomorrow or else how long would I have to be here adjusting myself to this misty blackness. Its so ironic; it's this darkness that I claim to love, that I feel like I'm a part of. Its been four hours and right now, its becoming hard for me to move without knocking something over, without being afraid of stepping on something, without being uncertain of which way to go. My eyes have adjusted but I'm still not sure. I was lying about the darkness. I wish the lights would come back on, I wish I could see things the way I did before, I wish I wasn't so uncertain, I wish I didn't cause such a mess every time I moved. It's simple, I just want the lights to come back on.  I've been thinking as I sat here rather bored without much to do about a lot of things; about the times when I got up on the stage unawa...

After the white rose marked your intangible presence I knew there was something strange. The strangeness was probably inside me, inside my mind. The strangeness was the crammed up thoughts about the person you were. The strangeness was you. I tried to find you. But I looked at the wrong places for too long and with time when I found you, it seemed as though no time had passed. The whole universe paused and it was just us. You and me, like two ragged pieces of a broken heart, withdrawn into the space. Everything about that moment was surreal. It was too perfect, like a picture carved out on canvas. I'm sorry I couldn't capture you and hold you down. I'm sorry I let you age. It probably doesn't matter now because, you're somewhere on the other side of the world trapped in a beautiful place. I can't be very sure but that's what I like to think. I like to think of you with the light that I saw. You with the color of your smile, the warmth of your words a...