Author: Sayali Talvelkar

As I think of him, I feel my insides knotting,
Something is knocking and pushing out,
I think it is her.
I think she is scared worried, she will never see him,
I feel she is more terrified, she is hurting him.
I filled all the gaps in, so he couldn’t come in,
I take away hope from her little by little everyday.
What if this estrangement is forever, she thinks
What if, him and her can never make things right, and it’s in ink.
I have made the most difficult decision of her life,
I live with her guilt everyday.
My mother asked, how did he leave things, if you are so concerned about how you left?

The knotting gradually subsides as I replay the moments of that time,
As she sees how it used to be when she let him in her life,
As she look at him looking at her,  and treating her so ordinary.
The knocking fades too, as she retires to the darkest recesses of my mind.
I could never hurt her, all I try and do is protect.
I wish him well and let him go,
I wait for her wounds to heal.
Each and everyday, I take away hope from her,
Pray, she will forgive me one day.

Shoot his punches,
They mostly ricochets.
So much hurt,
And that much rage.
Love not in his cards,
He has faith.
Affection terrifies,
So unnatural;
Loneliness feels more like it.
Melancholy devil deserves more than the most,
Trust me he does and he won’t accept it.
He keeps on playing the devil,
Just to save his face.
He hates the ‘V’ word, he will be anything, but it.
But his soul has been tortured,
Witness comes forward or not.
You have to save the devil, and release him from his pain,
You have to lick his wounds,
which he keeps on picking.
He is as fragile as the brittleness itself,
He knows of sadness, as his home
He fears to taint the happiness,
He deserves so much love.
He is convinced he is not deserving,
And he tries to prove himself.
You have to take some burden off,
He is too tired,  and he doesn’t know it.
You have to help my melancholy devil,
You understand, you save him.

Things and people who cause you pain are never the solution.

People who want to be you, can never be with you.

If someone disrespects your core being, no matter how much guilt afterward, they will repeat it.

Dependence on others is the poison of life.

Collaborating with people of similar values as yours, is the social interaction you need.

Weakness is seeking attention, strength is, giving it to yourself.

Choosing yourself is always right, but being an asshole is not.

You are the protagonist of your life, but so is everyone else in theirs.

Kindness shouldn’t be confused with being a doormat.

Loving is easy, Liking is not so much.

Giving people more chances than they have earned, keeps them from growing.

Liking yourself is a superpower

Being able to be by your own is a superpower.

Self reliance is the only thing, as valuable as air and water.

No-one is completely good, no-one is completely bad.

Good and bad, right, wrong are subjective.

If you are going to be a counsellor for everyone, you better get paid for it.

Therapy, healing and growth is only for people who are ready for it.

Who does not think they need help, cannot be helped.

Do not keep yourself in a situation, until you feel disgust.

Do not shrink yourself, to make others feel comfortable.

The Myth you believe in,

Right or Left brained.

Expressive creatives or logical rationalists,

Sometimes, even used to patronize,

Too emotional, and sensitive?

Or Perfectly critical and reasonable.

No wonder, it is used in the gender politics,

She will be the artist, and he will be the analyst.

The monopoly of logic and emotion, is not it.

With lateralization, both sides do perform different things,

But they communicate with each other, for the bigger picture.

While left understands the structure and technicality of the language,

The emotional features of the words spoken, is what right takes into consideration.

So if your left hears ‘sorry’, to know if it is sarcastic, you will need your right’s help.

And on that note, to all my ‘practical’ exes, I am ‘sorry’.

🙂

The duality of life and death,
Remembering, the moment of awareness.
It was choiceless at the beginning, so it has been ever since.
All, what is light and dark,
Was and will, still and moving,
The duality of thinking and feeling,
The time passed and remaining,
Pairs as such
A problem, hence the solution,
Dualistic You and I,
This choiceless awareness.

When weakness becomes virtue,

Strength is considered evil.

When struggle is considered unnatural,

Life becomes a suffering.

The narrative of our life, is what we create.

Magic or not, is what we believe.

To believe is an active choice,

And a choice too, to change limiting beliefs.

Rigidity, is the enemy of life,

The ‘have to’, the ‘must’, the ‘should’,

They dictate the life.

Dictation is not writing your mind,

And your life, are the words that you choose to write.

Words don’t come easy, I truly understand,

But improvising is better, than reading someone’s line.

Got guts to be the person you got to be?

It needs courage and capability to command yourself.

If you don’t want to obey others,

You need to obey yourself.

To be commanded by others, might feel like an oppression,

Yet, the freedom of choice creates the most anxious among ourselves.

Suppose, the oppression is the problem, and solution is freedom,

Then, why it is so dreadful, to exercise that basic right.

Freedom is wanted, but the responsibility and accountability of our decision is also in the package,

And if freedom was so desirable, then so many of us wouldn’t be so desperate for a savior.

To have to obey, you might get some pity, and even be considered virtuous,

And the ones who command, are the most despised by others.

Commanding others is so controversial,

But If you ask me,

Seeking a worthy master, is the most sensationally tragic aspect of our culture.

What is the way?

I am finding mine.

How do you find the way?

I am forging mine.

How do you forge the way?

Some part I am led, some part I lead.

How are you led or lead to the way?

By walking on wrong streets, I know where to be led

By walking in wrong shoes, I know when to lead.

By walking in wrong weather, I know when to rest.

By talking to myself, I know myself,

The more I tell myself to myself,

I know, where to walk

Even if , only I, can see it,

I know that, it is my path.

Sharpening my heart, mind and spirit to understand the drive,

I am led to and can lead my way.

How can I find the way

The way does not exist, but my way is what I know

If someone promises you the way, save your time, energy and sanity.

The only way that concerns you, and only you can find, is your own.

Silently observe the things you do,

Listening intently to the things you say,

Sensing the energy, you brought with you,

Nothing to judge, it is all evident.

When it is time, to tell you, what I see,

How could I lie, would you prefer it over the truth?

I hold your hand, and take you to the truth,

I showed you the mirror, and now you are mad.

Many of many came and left,

Despising the mirror and myself.

It is not personal, or is it?

Haven’t been phased at all by their reactions.

Just to this date, I carry the mirror, with myself.

Is it sass or maybe the fearlessness,

Curiously, the mirror is getting clearer, each and every day.

I know, I know, you are fuming with rage,

You despise me for holding the mirror,

But the wrath, is for what you see in there.

The sweet spot between struggle and thrive,
To still be on the journey, few more miles left behind.

Ticked some boxes, but added few,
The new goals set, while old ones almost achieved.

Who wants to reach the destination, we all know what that is,
It will be taken care of, we won’t miss the final station.

Making the most out of the journey, is to make best out of ourselves;

The secret, life told once,
I am that which must overcome itself again and again.

Note: The line in italics is taken from the book Thus spoke Zarathustra