Just Another Normal Day

Is your mind as dark as mine?

The mere sight of her was enough to strike an insane chord inside of me. I could figure out 101 ways to kill her for hours on end.

I pull her by her hair, dragging her across the floor. The smell of the blood dripping from her nose is sweet with a tinge of iron that makes the hair on my spine tickle with rapture. She quit begging me to stop hitting her on realizing that sympathy was not my cup of tea. Little did she know that her audacity landed her where she’s now, helpless and alone.

I contemplate unique ways to dispose off the corpse. But she’s still breathing softly amidst the darkness of my mind that surrounds her. Soon this blackness would engulf her into an image I’ll play over and over again in my head.
Did she moan or was it the chair that creaked that I had been sitting on?
The sight of her long black hair makes me loathe her even more. Just as I was about to throttle her to death an idea struck me. I stood still thinking through the idea, the murder. The whole picture finally coming together makes me smile.
Out of utter darkness, a cabinet appears wherein lies a pair of scissors just waiting for the mere touch of my fingers against the cold, hard silver that, in a way resonates my heart.
I cut all her hair till her head is shingled. Then I reach for her bruised mouth and open it wide which is bloody red, making it impossible to me to figure out the color of her teeth.
She’s still breathing, I realise. Not for long, I whisper in her ear. Her hair was long enough for what I wanted to do.

I stuffed it in her mouth, all of it.

The hair wouldn’t go in since her mouth was small so I jerked them in only to crack her jaw.
I wouldn’t leave the corpse out here in this darkness, no.

In an instant the dark room turns into the hazy image of the old school building.

I’m in the hallway, standing at the mouth of the staircase. I push the body down the flight of stairs only to see it crash against the wall in the most unnatural and disfigured manner ever.

“Nameera, I can smell the tea burning” I quickly dash into the kitchen but half of it has already evaporated into the thin air. Great.

“Um, I’ll make it again” I tell my mom. “Where is your mind these days” she ponders eyeing me carefully (looking for a trickle of blood from my recent kill, maybe?¿).

I purse my lips and get back to work.

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If Tears Could Think

She had been trying to hide me all day long.

Her eyes are fixed on the ceiling. To an outsider it may seem as though she’s listlessly staring at the wall but I know what she’s really looking at. All the memories are played by her mind and she relives it all; the joy and the sorrow.
She is watching him walk out on her and her mother for the billionth time. The memory evokes longing for a father she never saw. She bites her lip to keep me from getting out.

Hang in there, she’s telling herself over and over again. Her hands are tightened in fists as I tickle the back of her eyes. “No” she whispers under her heavy breath.

In a distance the screeching sound of the breaks of a car are heard. The leaves rustle against her window sill as the soft breeze caresses them. The dark night resonates her mind but I hope she can see the faint flicker of stars at night and begin to live again.

She holds her breath, she knows I’m making my way out.
She forces me to stay one last time but gives in eventually. She closes her eyes and lets out a deep sigh. As I trickle down her cheek I hear her thoughts, Why am I so weak?
Trickling softly down her flesh I wish I could tell her how strong she really is. It takes courage to let me go. As I bid farewell silently, I pray that she will remember me someday when she’s happy.

Cry,please,
Free those tears.
The pain will ease,
Melting your fears.

Remember them again,
When happiness blooms.
This isn’t the end,
You’ll know it soon.

-Nameera.

Fly

If you had wings,
Would you let them destroy you?

Or would you rather fly,
Exploring skies unknown?

Don’t give up hope just because you don’t have wings. You don’t need them to fly. All you need is a heart brave enough to endure your differences and make them your strength.

A state of mind

“Her lips traced her laughter, her lungs could barely contain the joy”.

The music was loud and people I called my friends laughed with me. A minute has passed and we’re still cracking over some lame joke. An incongruous feeling settles deep inside my heart. I feel it getting stronger with each passing minute.
I’m still laughing while my mind plays flashbacks that I thought I had forgotten; old faces and memories still reside safely in the back of my head.

My heart can barely take it. The images inside my head are so vivid I don’t know what’s real anymore. I’m choking on my laughter. I’m happy, right?

Laughing doesn’t help me forget anymore,
It only brings back memories I love and loathe.

Dreams.

There was once a time when i dreamt with my eyes closed, of things beyond imagination.
With age, wit & so called wisdom; transient waters of time washed away those winsome eyes.
All that remains, are dreams. Yes, dreams that we see with open eyes, that are nothing but a reflection of reality.
The very purpose of dreaming has been seemingly lost along tides of time, every corner of our minds sees only those dreams that reality can confine.

Inspiration for All Rounders.

What truly inspires us?
Now that, folks is a question that nobody really asks themselves. We’re always searching for inspiration and looking up ways on the internet to stay hooked onto one thing. Sometimes, we even narrow down our perspective to the point where we believe that there is only one thing that can truly inspire us. At least I used to think that way. Until I realised that it would never work for me. I’ve seen people draw inspiration from one thing like; there are writers out there who can always pen down their feelings, artists who find peace through a canvas, doctors that love saving people’s lives and social workers who put others interests before there own.
Yet what of those people who don’t fall in just one category but many? I happen to be one of those people. Leonardo Da Vinci was too. Well, I’m not comparing myself with him but it’s quite evident that people like me and him leave things incomplete. The irony lies in the fact being an all rounder; almost completely talented at everything leaves less space for a complete outcome. I start writing stories and never complete them. I’ve tons of artwork that’s mostly painted half. When I was in school, I’d at times leave a tiny chapter at the end of the syllabus for no specific reason. It just made me feel like I was doing the right thing; I was being myself. So, what truly inspires people like us?
Since I haven’t had a chance to meet many people like me (just my mom and a best friend) I’ll try to answer this as best as I can though it’s going to be based on my personal experiences.

1. Remember, inspiration isn’t a concept confined by singularity.

So, you don’t just have to be good at just one thing to be inspired. It is a very wide concept. You can define it in your own way. You can be an artist, a writer or a social worker. Focus on your present, what do you feel like doing right now? Writing, painting, studying( I don’t know most people that enjoy this but I do; I don’t mind being called a nerd), helping people, doing chores, cleaning your room, dancing, playing video games, watching a movie, and there are countless ways to get going.
2. Drawn from feelings.

If you don’t figure out what you’re feeling then how could you find inspiration? But I do get it. At times we don’t feel inspired. The real problem is that we don’t know what we’re feeling. So, give yourself sometime and try to seek the hindrance making you feel down or lazy. Having patience and simply thinking can work wonders unless you end up over-thinking which could drain out all your energy.
3. Know yourself.

I strongly believe that it’s important to know oneself. Because inspiration is truly a personalised concept. If you don’t know your hidden talents and aspirations; you might have a hard time finding inspiration because it’s all inside you. To do this, try new things. Surprise yourself and who knows, inspiration might be waiting for you right around the corner.
4. Have an open mind.
Lastly,think big. This is helpful in almost all situations in life. Don’t go around thinking that you’ll always be the same or you can never do a certain thing. Like, if you have stage fright then you feel that you’ll never be able to speak up. At the end of the day, you’ll be fine. Are people telling you that introverts and extroverts are meant to do different things? Like, the former can write well and the latter are good at public speaking; that’s just plain stupid. There’s no such thing that only certain people are made for certain talents. You can be whoever you want to be, if you have what it takes it achieve it.

So, all these are just my notions about drawing inspiration being an all rounder.

Letting Go.

In my first post I wanted to delve into the aspect of letting go.

Often we end up getting confused between two questions- ‘How to let go?’ and ‘When to let go?’.

Lately I’ve been teaching myself the concept of letting go. You see, that’s where I went wrong. It’s not a concept but an art. How, you might ask.

What are poems or artwork? Is it something that an artist forces himself to feel to paint the canvas with vibrant colors? Can poems be weaved together if the poet has no feelings?

All emotions when channelised towards a medium, be it paper or a canvas, contribute to art.

Not only does it relieve us of our pain but also helps to clear our minds.

Previously I was trying to grasp the logic behind letting go, I decided to approach it later as an art. I starting putting down my thoughts. Words made the whole process easier than any consolation, pity or piece of advice I might have been bestowed with.

Letting go

It was like pricking your finger on a thorn,
While you could always caress the rose.

For me, this was letting go,
Of past, comfort and hope.