Abhey Gupta

Tag: Despair

  • Circle Back Again

    And again, I am circling back to the same old place;
    and I shouldn’t, and I shouldn’t, and I shouldn’t.
    No matter what, no matter right or wrong —
    I can’t love you, knowing the hurt,
    knowing the history, and the world;
    you have been mean — and mean to me, most of all.

    Knowing how much I care about you,
    how much I love you — knowing I am not even one percent to you.

    Today, I was dancing out of happiness,
    but with the sadness that I am, again, back to
    what I hated most about myself:
    loving you, one-sided —
    knowing I don’t even matter to you.

  • How to Deal with the Odd?

    How do I feel?

    This question is bigger than anything else — or it has become so.

    I believe — as much as scientists don’t — that children are born with certain memories of a past birth. But what nobody believes is that we are also born with certain feelings: dominant, and predominant. And that, in fact, is true. At certain times, I strongly feel that I am depressed; but every attempt to understand it has resulted in one, and only one, answer: this is just how it is. I am born like that.

    Like a sine wave, I am happy and sad — maybe not at such regular intervals, but I am. So, to answer how I feel is, at the same time, thoroughly relative, and unanswerable.

    The problem is this: we are taught so many things, but we are never taught how to live alone — how to embrace fear, how to embrace the odd. We are only ever taught how to deal with the even.

    I will write a series of posts to unravel these questions — and I hope to find some curious people, with the same mindset, along the journey.

  • Live & Die

    Live & Die

    I thought this time I’d get through it, but like the cycle of day and night, I am bound to fall again and again. Wondering what is so devious about it. I heard, “Take a bow and trigger it. You will get to know the arrow.” Principles to restrict, but all they do is fall blatantly. I wonder what’s in the bog of time; all I know is to fill me with something special to realize who I am. To the end, what it takes to get through all the chaos and live.

    I believe, a will to live and die.

    Living in a Mess

    I am confused all through. I am drifting apart from the regular me. I am forgetting the difference between good and bad, as I was always perplexed by it. To my situation, to my path, often celebrating the tears of sadness. If I am all the devil, I assume, I wonder what is next in the hellfire that I’m living in. Yet, call it a life to choose between two, is another lie. I’m surrounded by clouds of lies. Often I want to break free of all, but lies are all they are. But that’s all I’ve got for now.

  • Why Do We Seek It?

    This is the most important question we need to understand — because the why, and the what, behind my saying that everyone is looking for a single end goal (whether they realize it or not) is the very answer that moves us closer to it.

    Suffering is the primary motive at work here. There could be many others, but for the sake of simplicity, am I considering a single motive? I would say yes, and no — because suffering itself is not simple to explain, and it does not even refer to a single thing, or a single action.

    So now the big question is: what is suffering? Is it something we don’t want, or don’t desire? Is it love, hate, or both? Is it hope, despair, or both?

    Pretty confused? So was I — and that is exactly where the search begins.

  • Some Day

    Some day I try to understand life;
    some day I try to forget my mistakes;
    some day I try to keep myself low;
    some day I try to hide my happiness;
    some day I just like to watch time go;
    some day I stay back, and watch people go;
    some day I look into my own eyes, and call myself a winner;
    some day I forget what I am, and what I want to be;
    some day I just destroy my every thought;
    some day I want to hold my breath, and feel myself fading;
    some day I want to fill myself with endless food;
    some day, I just write for her.

  • To Be or Not to Be

    I would rather cross my mind,
    and travel, alone, all of mine;
    or behead my day, so full of head,
    and, a day or more, live my life…

    I carry all my deeds,
    and the beads of my hate;
    I whisper words of shed,
    and expect my own side…

    To the lonely night and day,
    I dare to love once again;
    travelling all myself, an unknown way,
    I recall some of the lost rain.

    It is turning to summer, for a change,
    and I glance back for a familiar face;
    but I witness myself in a crime of dilemma:
    to be, or not to be, a part of this life again…

  • Random

    What I thought was past — my desire, my long-dreamed day —
    it was an awful waking, to a night of endless chase and pain…
    I borrow my own time, and run a battle —
    to fight with whom?
    I shall surrender my soul;
    I wear no shell for you to protect me,
    but I tear open my wounds, to love myself.

  • Emptiness

    All over my hate and pain,
    it pushes me back, again and again;
    standing in the middle of an empty road,
    I realize my emptiness, in the worldly crowd…

    Way to way, with my endless hay,
    I realize I waste one more day;
    and with the lonely house,
    I find my emptiness…

    The silence of love and hate,
    I find my state in a stapled chase;
    stammering my life once again,
    I feel my emptiness, again…

    To the lonely road,
    to the endless bay,
    to the world of dreams,
    I live my emptiness, again.

  • Farewell to Love

    I fly to the sky,
    and pass my dread aside;
    I walk upon the cloud,
    and find you by my side…

    I open my arms,
    hold her eyes, and cry;
    she whispers nothing new,
    but I hold her tighter still.

    I dive to the ground,
    and lose her now;
    I pray for her to come with me,
    but the goddess has her refusal.

    I cross my heart and weep alone…
    but she never comes to see me by;
    time goes, and her love with it —
    yet I am still here, to see her by my side.

  • Battle Mind

    Another day, and I will shed my way;
    travellers, the innocent, are my blood’s target.
    I may live or die, but it traces out my existence —
    the secret I keep locked away, in this battle of the mind.

    Words are my sword, and sorrow my blood,
    heir of a royal bloodline, wasted in surrender;
    you may see no more death in the world,
    but the soul-ripper has its own way…

    I could never stand beneath the words of love;
    we may travel all this world alone,
    battling the present for the despair of one past,
    fuelling a battle of the mind, every second.