Out There...

Do we ever give a thought to who we are, or rather who we were? It seems to me that most of the time I am trying my level best to make myself be acceptable. It seems that whatever I do, I just can't seem to be the real me. I mean it can be just a perception, a random thought amidst several others. Lets just take this blog (glorified word for wandering thoughts) as an example. Why is it that I can find inspiration only at the most late hours? Why can't I put my thoughts to words when its ten in the morning? Why can't I connect my feelings, my moods to words?

A neuron is the basic unit of the brain, a highly specialized cell that can conduct or transmit electrical signals. And a network of neurons makes nerves which then step by step form the nervous system. The human brain, the advent of evolution, the crown jewel in mother nature's creations, is a complex thing, so to say. Now, why can't my brain help me write at regular timings? Why do my neurons seem to tingle when its four in the morning?

I do try to find answers to such silly questions rather then thinking about my career path. And all the only answer that I could come up with was that at such a time, my brain gets what it really needs; peace, serenity and thats all that any of us would require to think straight. Outside my room I can hear all kinds of insects, making several sounds, calls of distress, or calls of love.But there is a strange feeling that comes with these sounds. I feel that I am liberated of my other worries. They take me to a dimension where its only me that I face. 

I am human after all and as all humans, I have what is called a breaking point. And when my brain has attained that ultimate state of being completely and immensely stressed, it seems to shutdown, or log-off, or hibernate, whatever you want to call it. And with it everything goes blank. This feeling of being lost, being disconnected has taken over me several times. A sort of insomnia, that prevails is what triggers and brings my thoughts to life. As I've said, the dark of the night takes me to some other dimension. 

That is where I am what I always want to see myself as. In the day I am just another person, fighting, struggling, surviving. But as the sun sets, another person takes over, conditions applied although. I do need to be awake in order to write down or type my feelings. Its like, I am high, my nerve impulses drifting me from one thought to another. Incoherent, as I may seem, I actually do enjoy these moments. They make me admire what I was, what I am and what I might become?

These words can be just mere reflections, some chemical imbalances. But I like to believe that this is what I really am. This is the person that laughs inside, making fun, smiling, frowning, thinking, dreaming, defining what I can achieve. But the reality is that I am the one who locked him, deep inside, never to surface. And probably, thats what most of us have been doing. 

We run away from what we really want. We hide what we feel, we are afraid of our own thoughts. It seems that we can never gather enough courage to face the world in our original, "vulnerable" form. So we cover ourselves up, put on armors made up of new identities. I can honestly say that I have changed my personality several times over the years. From a naughty little kid to a mama's boy; from a lost wanderer to a narcissist. I have seen a lot and changed a lot. Everytime making me me adapt to my surrounding, the act of fitting in.

But sometimes, I just need to reach out to that bundle of thoughts hid inside. I need to feel whats real, whats me. One might say that I am terribly confused or completely clueless. I only know one thing. I keep my self awake at times, listening to those crickets and mosquitoes, and staring blankly outside my window, just to feel the real me who is lost somewhere. Who is waiting for me to embrace him. I know he is there. 

I know he is out there...

Syed Aadil Ahmed Rizvi

Tears...

What is it about a drop of salty water in the eye of a loved one that can make even the strongest one of us kneel down?Why is it so that sometimes, tears are required to show that you love, that you miss, that you are hurt, that you are alone, that you are angry, that you are true.. How can something so miniscule can conjure up titanic emotions? Or is it just my narrow vision which cannot see beyond my own limited wisdom?

I have many a times questioned myself over my own feelings, over my desires, my dreams, my paths, my righteousness, as i like to call it. I consider myself naive when it comes to understanding the true meanings of words or gestures or knowing whats unsaid. I might not be the best son, the best brother, the best friend or the best lover. I have said many words that I have forgotten long before; words of promises unkept. And there are moments that I resent, that I would have rather not experienced. Moments which have left their impressions on my nature. 

I don`t know exactly how to put it in words but for me seeing the tears of the people that I care about is the harshest punishment that I can endure. I have seen the tears of my elders, my siblings, my comrades and of my love. And many a times, I was the reason for those tears. The pain hidden deep in those cries sometimes resonates deep within me. My guilty conscience sometimes tells me that I should make up to that pain, I should change, I should atone. But no matter what I do or what I say, I always end up hurting somebody.

And all this has led me to ask of myself, what is the significance of my being in the lives of those that I hold dear? Am I there for the sake of a brisk moment and then to be forgotten? Or do I matter enough to have feelings for me in someone else`s thoughts? I can`t seem to understand why I cannot see what right in front of me. Maybe its all a fragment of my imagination, lost thoughts that are born in solitude.

But I can`t deny my own feelings that i know for sure are true to my heart. I know that when I see a person cry, let it be a stranger, I want to console that person. And if it be a loved one, I am willing to go to all lengths to see a flash of smile. But, since long, I have seen myself fail miserably and constantly. My words are not the same as before. I force myself to believe that I may have lost the innocence that once made my words soothing. I find myself corrupted by my own thoughts and beliefs. 

But there is a reason for that too. "Sympathy can never erase the past". And neither can it make the pain go away. And no matter how much you cry, pain will be reselient. And when I saw the futility of my own tears, I forced myself to become cold, one who wouldn`t cry. It was this frozen nature that has turned me so numb. I don`t know whether I am saying whats true or just blabbering on about worthless ideas. I guess everybody is entitled to an opinion an I just wish to put forward mine.

I believe that when I cannot understand the true pain behind every drop of tear, when I cannot feel what it is like to cry, then how can I comfort someone else. It would be pointless to repeat that I don`t understand what someone wants me to feel. Its something that God decided to deprive me of, for better or worse. And no matter how much I try to learn this coveted art, I find all my efforts go to wain. That said, however, I have been able to make some changes in me. 

Its the outcome of my several failures that I have learnt that tears are the words that can tell me what someone else feels. Tears can help me connect to others more strongly. But then again, I am reminded of my inability, of my lack of proper functioning lacrimal glands. I am confused and lost in my thoughts, confused by what I feel, confused by what I see. I have not lived up to what I wanted of myself. Still, I believe I can be what I want of myself or if possible what somebody else would want of me.

My thoughts can be defined as distorted or unsound but these are my own perceptions of this world. These beliefs and understandings have been guiding me for all this time. To be honest, I can never change what I think and neither do I want to. But because I have seen the tears of those that are important, I wish I could be better. I wish I could be funnier. I wish I could sooth. I wish I could sympathize. 

I wish I too could cry................

Syed Aadil Ahmed Rizvi