Skip to main content
Inside Out.

I'm running.
I'm running, so fast that my breath is louder than my footsteps. I have no time to tumble. Behind me I see people shouting at me to run faster, telling me how proud they are of me. In front of me, I see my heroes, waiting to grab me and pull me to a place beyond this soul crushing forest.
Sometimes I don't know what I am running for. It's like I'm running, looking for places where I can heal, but with every mile I keep losing bits and pieces of me. Often, I get scared that at the end, there will be nothing left of me. That one day I will reach the mountain top but when I look at myself I will see nothing. Nothing at all.
Is it worth it?
One day, I will not be scared of death. I will let it feast on me and happily remember all the times this body has helped me, betrayed me. But for now, I'm a coward. I don't yet want to meet my inner self. This side of me has done too many wrongs.
I have though, explored myself in so many ways you haven't. You will never know what it is like to be me, how my own existence brings me to tears. How I can feel a fire burning violently inside me, sometimes feeding on the stories of the world and brightening more, other times, dying, because it had nothing to burn for.
Why then, are you happier than me?
Why, you haven’t seen yourself up close. You don't know what it is like to feel so much of power, so much energy. Then why in the world, at the end of the day, do you sleep peacefully while I cry myself to sleep because I am losing a little of my time every single day?
One day I will prove it to you. I swear, I'll prove to you that I am what this world wants. Or so I had said.
Never had I realized, this world wants so little from me. And I, need so much more of myself.
This time I want something more than loneliness to keep myself in a piece.
I need more than sleep to calm the voices in my head. I need a touch that doesn't lift up from my skin. Ever.
Is it okay if I don't finish reading all the books in the world? Is it okay if I never write better than the writer next door? Is it okay if I never learn to colour?
Is it okay if today, just for today, that I believe, that there is no such thing as time?
I don't want to run. Today, I don't want to run. 


- Anushruti Adhikari (अनुश्रुति अधिकारी )




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Week After The Valentine's I haven't understood love. As we grow up, our perception of love and life differs greatly. Often, we tend to overshadow one with the other, and that is exactly where we make mistakes. Balance. Balance. Balance. It's everything we want. What's worse, is that we are flawless humans, which means we have a chain of imperfections and we constantly need someone to appreciate them. Why, I wonder, can't we do it ourselves? My greatest struggle with self is acceptance. Appreciation. I'm divided. I want to show people that I am divided. Then I want them to love me even more. That's love for me. Valentine's day comes and goes, yet not a single day do you accept yourself. We leave the job of loving ourselves to each other. We praise each other, talk at lengths about each other, find ourselves in each other. Because we chose the other, before ourselves. We tend to sink in the gravity of someone else's affection. It's ou...
You. It's strange how we crave for isolation but disgust our loneliness. Imagine this. How would you feel if you were changing the world but nobody knew? Today, my loneliness could not embrace me. I kept looking for answers, for reasons for why I am how I am. Why I exist. What difference do I make. I make no difference. I want no one to help me. My own isolation guides me. I find little, sometimes no pleasure in blending with people. What do I do then? I work. I work some more. When I'm done, who's going to be the one to see what I've done? The people of course. The people I forgot about. We all do this. If you don't, you're one step ahead of me. If you do, you're still ahead of me, that is,if you haven’t lost your mind questioning your existence like I did. How often have you not been able to explain your sorrow? The truth is, you can. You actually know the reason why you are in such a pain. Your life is purely doubtful. Your existence...

Squiggles and Scribbles of Sashi

Sashi woke up today, annoyed and at 4 a.m. Her thinning blanket somehow turned over and her oiled-up feet were exposed to the ruthless chills of Magh. She angrily switched on the light, as if to scold the walls and windows of her room for the restless night.  Her belongings in the one-person rental flat are quite minimal, although symmetrically pleasing, like something straight out of a Wes Anderson movie, only, without the colours. Her clothes, from her mother's sarees to her work uniform had to put up a fight with her undiagnosed O.C.D; even the softest of the fabric was disciplined into a neat pile.  Her bathroom had nothing more than a single soap, dry on one side and slimy on the other. Her toothbrush, however, looked more worried, for the woman brushed ferociously, disappointed at her slightly yellow teeth which were now accompanied by often bleeding gums.  Her kitchen was completely empty, as she had decided not to eat in her room. The ventilation in the tiny flat ...