Disconnectedly disconnecting to connect again

I wouldn’t blame myself for being taciturn but I rarely pick up the phone when it rings, sometimes I leave it on silent so that I’m not aware of it ringing, I’m not guilty, I’m free.

At times I do the same with texts, see the preview of it and leave it at that. Get rid of the notification, even if it is from a certain someone that I love. Then tell them that I’ve been out and that I’ll call as soon as I can. (When I’m ready to?)

It’s not that I want to ignore the person because I can’t. I wouldn’t label myself as an ignorant person, for the most part. And it’s not that I don’t want to talk to them either. It’s not as if I’m too busy to talk to them yet I’m hesitant to get into a conversation.

I might be an introverted extrovert, reluctant and self-centred. I might make other people suffer with my mood swings. And they do suffer as a multitude of texts reach them when I’m happy, late night prank calls and my uncontrollable laughter helps me gain an image of an evil mortal. Though at other times when I’m over my head, I simply can’t bring myself to connect with anyone. The world outside of my own seems unbearable. Heavy. Almost wishing I didn’t have to talk to anyone at all, explain myself or ping them up with the bullshit I make up in my head.

It’s a strange contradiction, a two sided story, an irony, a misunderstanding. Where I may not want to bother someone when I’m down, the other person might get offended. Where I just can’t seem to explain to them how nothing is wrong but how everything is. Where I’m afraid I’ll be asked to get over it when I’m just not ready. Where I can’t bring myself to be involved in someone else’s happiness, the achievements they’re telling me about, I almost feel unworthy and unmerited for such tête-à-tête.

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Most of the times it’s me spending an inordinate amount of time being alone, spending more time in taking a bath than usual, cancelling the incipient plans and those dinner dates just so I could be alone and watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Go to the coffee shop alone, with just a book in hand, never feeling the need to invite a friend. Ignoring the first knock at the door and timorously hoping there isn’t a second knock. On seeing an acquaintance in a crowd I turn around to change my direction, just so I could avoid small talk. It makes me sick now that I acknowledge how cowardly and self-centred I am. But I’ve unwholesomely gotten used to it, thinking of time as a precious commodity that I’ll ever own. So here I am, avoiding the outpour of emotions from a different being other than me, avoiding the misunderstandings, avoiding the heartaches, avoiding the 20 questions, avoiding the awkward silence between conversations, avoiding the unfriendliness, avoiding the tension of whether they like me or not, avoiding the hate and avoiding the loss.

I do close my eyes for a minute when my phone illuminates with a new text, a call or an invitation. There’s a risk I don’t take. There’re the messages I don’t choose to read. I simply wait for the screen to darken. I play it safe. I play it dumb.

But then I open my eyes, thinking why someone would ever want to talk with me, share with me, their sorrows and happiness, their achievements and failures. And the way they’d laugh with me on the silliest things. Thinking why I’d over think such an innocent connection to ever exist. And when at times I’m downhearted, a text from them is the only thing which lifts up my soul. Makes me crack up and shake my head at how utterly insane they are and how utterly lucky I’m to have them in my life. And when I talk with them, I never want the conversations to end. And how stumbling upon them in a coffee shop turned out to be the best thing to have happened to me that day.

I do worry though, about the transience of what exists in form and shape, scared of referring to someone as somebody that I used to know, scared of the everlasting connection, scared of the memories, scared of love so I’m always seeking for a forever in the brevity of a moment. (How selfish, yet again.) And at 2 A.M, more awake than asleep, the question lingers in my mind – Is it worth the risk? I guess I’ll know with time, as I disclose my feelings, feel the frown turn upside down as my phone illuminates and feel the smoothness of the screen upon my fingers as I reply. Feel the warmth radiated from the phone as I talk to them. Feel guiltless when my phone goes untouched for days and ecstatic when I still find them at the other end of the phone. For those people, I surely think it’s worth the risk.

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Nature

 

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I’ve been told that I walk with an expression on my face which expresses precisely nothing and I couldn’t agree more. I wear an expression on my face which only accentuates my inner void, hiding my lucid flow of thoughts. I tend to cut through the razor sharp gaze of people with grace, something that I’d honed for myself, over the past few years. I choose to roam the most loneliest and scenic roads where the trees usually catch my undivided attention, as I am deluged by the beauty of things which live without words. Fearlessly existing, growing, in a world full of preconceived notions where wisdom is just fidelity on paper.

I have found a companion in nature and I have bared my all to it. I could be whoever I wanted to be in its presence. Also, in a way it was my solitude which became my companion in the vast presence of nature. It sounds utterly imbecile, right? I guess it is. But it’s only then did I realise, how small I really am, just existing as a mere collection of paradoxes in the transience of life. It was the realization which only invigorated me and however trivial and alone I had ever felt in a room full of people, nature always made me feel like a queen who was worthy of its every leaf and every drop of rain, so I connected to its unspoken words and drifted away from those who couldn’t understand it. Partly because I was of the ‘nature’ people didn’t understand, so how would they understand the nature? They couldn’t understand the silence but were confident in their convictions about what I do and what I am. Even though I did meet a few people along the way, people who surprised me, so I tried connecting with them. I took a few steps into their world before I let them come into mine, shared a thought or two, let the minds collide carelessly. But then I always found myself taking two steps back into my own cosy void. I guess I am too scared, too scared of something so ephemeral, unlike my own conscientiousness and nature.