Last conversation

He asked me
how much I loved him?
and I didn’t know
For the sea can not see
its other end,
For the oceans never know
its vastness & depth.
 
He asked me
should he stay?
And I didn’t know
how to answer,
For my breathes lived
in his glowing smile.
My memory searched
for his deep warmth.
And my soul –
It always holds onto his touch.
 
He asked me
what is my love?
And I couldn’t answer
in mere words
and simple syllables.
 
So, I tried
to write his name
on the morning breeze
and on the roaring waves
But the air doesn’t listen
and the water is wild.
 
Bewildered & confused,
looking into his eyes
I pointed to the sky
a shooting star over our heads
I wished him for me,
his name with mine –
for now & forever.
 
Because the sky is generous
and it never forgets
all the gazes that fall upon it
the hopes and the prayers
that are made, while being lost
in its glory.
 
And I know it
One fine night
when he’ll believe in me
and my love for him,
when he’ll listen to my voice
in his beating chest,
Then will be the time
when all the stars will twinkle
and the sky will write
my love, up above,
on its corners & horizons
for him to see, to read
and feel
my sacred love
in his running blood
and beaming lips.
– H
Advertisements

It has been very exhausting.

I might sound incoherent in my sentences today but boy oh boy, it has been a very long while!

SO many and just SO many things happened.

It was the last year of medical school and it has been done and dusted, finally! YES. I AM NO MORE AN UNDERGRAD.

I started this blog when I didn’t even yet enter the medical school and it has been quite a journey till then..Ah.

I’ll try to summarize everything up.

  1. My medical school ended, I am no more an undergrad and finally got done with it. Wooho. The final year was SHIT in every aspect of this very word. In terms of friends and in terms of relation, it was the worst ever year of my life. (I’ll do another series of posts where I’ll tell what I learnt from each year of the medical school, so you are in for a treat)
  2. After 5 years, I was screwed and dumped by a dickhead who just fed his insecurities and complexes by being related to me for that long and making me go through shit, suffer and torture in the name of love. Ah, the shit that we take and the many hells that we go through because we think we are in love.
  3. Dickheads often try to shape you into something you’re not, and make you put up with things you shouldn’t when your inside voice is saying ‘WTF?!’ That’s not how relationships should be. I suffered for 5 fucking years (DUDE, that’s the whole of my medical school’s time, lol) because of an asshole whose very existence is something I don’t even want to be mentioned about. The time that I could have spent in my personal growth, with my family, my friends – all that time and energy went into the dustbin because I was a fucking fool and a blind, ah.
  4. The damage is irreparable. In the name of love, he installed negativity and hatred in me. There is not even a single moment that I can recall which is worth cherishing and it is the saddest realization because I suffered and tolerated way too much and too long in this toxic bond that left me nothing but with insecurities from head to toe along with emotional, psychological and mental fatigue.
  5. I hit the rock bottom and battled my way through depression for the whole of 2017 and some of 2016 all alone, no family, no friends, no nothing.
  6. Break up is devastating and heart-wrenching. Nevertheless, like every failure – you may lose in heart, but you gain in the soul. You will be much more convincing as an individual and learn to deal with the melancholy of life with dignity. It gives you enormous strength to face life, even if it hits you hard. After all, you survived a breakup. I would like to tell the boys that when your ego is hurt because a girl rejects to put up with your psycho existence just take a bandage from the next medicine shop or get first aid but for fuck sake don’t creep her out by imposing your opinions on her.
  7. Forgiving is a strength. Not everyone can forgive, it requires lots of courage and maturity to grow beyond silly manifestations of greatness. I have not reached that level yet, I might do, someday. But today is not that day.
  8. Final prof was the hardest and the most exhausting. I was so distracted. I struggled. The course was as always shit loads but the long and painful span of 6 months of preps and exams just cut you into pieces, I would wish to survive only, I am glad I did.
  9. I would like to take this moment and tell all the cheaters and all the assholes, the fuckboys and the douchebags – there is no pride in dumping someone, karma is a bitch, it comes back and bites you in your arse and if not exactly you, it will make you suffer via the people that are closest to you; your mom, dad, siblings, pet, anyone and anything and then in the silence of night you’ll be miserable just like that someone you cheated on – watch out! Boy, bye.
  10. I turned 24, hehe. My birthday was on the very same day when I had my most horrendous paper and boy I legit thought it is going to be your death day but ya girl made her way through it and was quite relieved because the exam was amazing, thanks to my HOD for the best treat in the form an easy paper.
  11. You know when you spend 4/5 years together, so many faces come up, so many schemes open up and so many facts are learnt – about people, about life, about every aspect, medical school was a ride!
  12. This year was not very good in terms of friends, so many real faces came up and honestly, I am so eternally, royally and extremely happy to be finally out of that hell-hole and not be obliged to entertain the fake hypocrites with an even fake smile, ah, God! Thank you very much.
  13. I lost faith in many people and really I don’t give a fuck anymore, I have given up on 99% of the people I was putting up with because of the circumstances and I could not be any happier, oh my gosh, what a liberating feeling is this, I can not put it in words.
  14.  I love surgery and no power in this world can stop me from flaunting my scalpel really soon, not even the many hurdles everyone is putting me through by emphasizing it is only a male dominant field (YA GIRL WILL PROVE HER FEMININITY LMAO) Nothing can stop me from living my dreams and goals.
  15. It sounds wanky, but you do find out that being happy really is about loving yourself, not being loved by someone else. It’s only through rebuilding your life after hitting rock bottom thanks to that dickhead you realise this one important fact that will shape your future relationships. It almost makes being with that tool worthwhile. Almost.
  16. From the day we were born until now, we have met a lot of people. Some of them stay with us through the good and the bad, while some just come around when they need something from us. It’s not possible to keep everyone; the chemistry can stray away or you might outgrow each other. That’s okay. Keep the real ones for life and you will have some amazing friendships—even if you can only count how many genuine friends you have with one hand. (I have like… 2 only????)
  17. Apart from the rough phases, I had amazing trips, wonderful opportunities in literary fields and others and I did many things in the quest of my passions about which I am proud.
  18. I am not as much in a bad shape as I was. I am progressing and fighting the depression quite well and it has improved a lot.
  19. In order to deal with difficult experiences, realize that you can’t simply get over it, or pretend that it never happened. You instead learn to cope with it.
  20. Bad people aren’t hunched over in alleyways with an evil glare in their eyes, plotting your demise. They can be anyone. Likewise, people who seem untrustworthy can be some of the kindest. Get to know people and go with your gut. Don’t beat yourself up when your gut is wrong.
  21. Honestly, you can pray 5 times and not drink or smoke but if you are a CHUTYA and you fuck it up deliberately after years, you are a CHUTYA – please nothing can change that and don’t’ even try. Nobody gives a rat’s ass about your piousness.
  22. There are people who just won’t like you no matter what you do. You do not have to be an asshole in return. But hey! Don’t just suffer like that, simply show them the exit door.
  23. Periods are a part of life. Don’t buy into the mentality that they’re gross or something to be hidden and ashamed of. People who find entertainment by bringing others down and making the joke out of them should stay the fuck away at an arm’s distance from me.
  24. Grades matter and studying since day one matter as well so next time someone says any of these two things doesn’t matter ask them to fuck off right away and return to your study table. Work hard, your fucking ass off and make things happen.
  25. Friendships limited to Instagram, Facebook, and Snapchat are nothing but a virtual reality. When you need someone to talk to and when you are looking for someone to celebrate with, nothing replaces human interaction. Your friends are the people you make time to see, have long conversations with, rejoice and grieve with. If someone tries to put knots on your tongue and barriers in the use of language, you are better off them. Life is too short to be thoughtful of what to say and what not to just to meet others standards in times when an expression is the only key to sanity.
  26. Exercise! Our bodies are our sanctuaries. They deserve to be looked out for in every way possible. If we don’t do enough for them by the time we’re 24 then we’re only tearing them down for the future.
  27. Don’t let anyone manipulate your principles. They are principles for a reason. If they are subject to change, then you need to re-evaluate what’s important to you.
  28. I read a long time ago that in this moment, you are the oldest you’ve been and the youngest you’ll be again. Appreciate where you are in life and celebrate!
  29. Your parents are extremely important and your family matters. Everything else is secondary.
  30. Be kind, be very kind! See you soon for many other posts and being regular here – take care.

Sigh

For years,
I fought recklessly
to fit my bones into the skeleton
that will tempt you the most.

Those summer afternoons spent,
Struggling in front of the mirror
rubbing my mascara & blush
drawing the image you wanted to see.

Through springs & winters,
Fighting depression, tears
relapses, anxiety and more –
dangling in a vicious cycle.

All this labour, facade & pain,
Just to be liked by you
so the false wave of acceptance
from your gaze,
surging down my empty spine
could comfort me to the core.

And even though I beg you,
For your love & touch
my insecure parts are still aching
in the same bony cage,
unfed & despised – the scars shine brightly.

So, do I collect myself?
Gather all these pieces
jot into one whole human
stand tall on my own.

Or do I return back?
To the same misery
that connects me to you
feeds my doubts
leaves me crippled for days
my limbs numb & feelings dead.

The night is dark
heart – broken
spark – crimson
waves – silent
but somebody whispers,
so much to endure just in the name of love.

Chalain phir viva mein mulaqat hogi.

Dear Sir,

I still remember that horrible and unfortunate day, probably 27th of May, 2016, when our househelp came to my room and told about your demise. I instantly jumped out of the bed and got so paranoid that rushed to dad and later on, sent someone to your house to really confirm that you were no more. Funny, isn’t it? We don’t care when people are alive but struggle to wrap our heads around their death news. Not only a teacher, you were my neighbour too.

I visited you so many times during you illness and throughout your absence from college, sometimes to come to the news of your ill health and admission in hospital, other times to be greeted by a sad smile of your dad that you are taken to another city for a better consultation and at times, just to the hours of your bedrest. Every visit broke a part of my heart to only realize how rapidly your health was going down.

That last meeting with you at your clinic is still vividly clear in my memory – a weak smile, determined yet sad eyes, concerned thoughts of a dad about his children, lean body, tired voice, shaking soul but a lot of contentment in each word you uttered. I still find it hard to shrug it off of my mind, that deep melancholic sight I breathed in. We have crossed paths, exchanged greetings and just wished the best for each other so many times in this very street that I walk in on daily basis with the only change of the absence of your classic old Mercedes that was a trademark sign for us all students to know about your presence or absence at college. I am sorry and I am guilty to confess that, like any other student, when I felt super-saturated by the many blood diseases and neurological disorders that you taught – I have wished to not see the Mercedes in the morning that would refer to your absence and a free class for us. I apologize. No matter how much us all, as students, would get irritated at times and the class would seem unwelcoming; I believe everyone can say it with surety that you have been and you always will remain as one of the best teachers of general medicine, my most liked one – your competence, knowledge and insight command over your subject made it a favorite to me.

I look at your house and it sends chills down my spine to realize how the going of a single life can change so many other lives connected to it – your family has moved from here, your clinical setup isn’t there anymore, the parking area of the blue Mercedes is empty and haunting – the worldly system is going on but you are not here. Your patients kept on coming even after your death and I couldn’t absorb the fact that they notified it at the gate about your absence – it broke me to even read that piece of paper. Do I have to shout the loss of my loved one at the top of my crumbled lungs? Is that the only way I can be heard? I couldn’t even study from your lectures for the paper as everytime I came across them, the sight of your name torn a part of my soul into two halves. It was your legacy that I still find myself to be the very best with all the topics being taught by you – from blood to neuro. I hope you feel happy about it.

I know my mates usually think I am mourning the loss of someone that I just knew for his teaching way, too much, but what they don’t know is, you weren’t only a teacher but having lived in the same street for 5 years, the bricks of your house and the people inside it felt like a family. What they don’t know is breaking the news of your death to them killed me then and the thought of it now, kills me again. What they don’t know is some people might not be our immediate family but their passing empties us from inside. And above everything, after all, who are even they to set the standard for grief? For isn’t grief the loss of a will, the will to continue by rephrasing our sentences from IS to WAS for that one person.

After some time our medical school’s journey will end; the system of university will keep on moving like it goes now, many people will graduate, medicine classes would follow their normal routine, your colleagues will come and go, someone will teach blood and neuro, coming batches won’t eve know you, stages and exams will be conducted the same way but there would be only one part missing and that is you. Horrible, isn’t it? It takes us a death to realize how important life is, a permanent absence to value the presence of someone, a void in our heart to appreciate how full it was. The lessons that you have taught me, both big and small, will stick with me for the rest of my life and while I would never be able to say a greeting to you at your house door or to pass by you in college and hear you or to see your blue trademark Mercedes, know that the warmth of your presence is felt every second of the ticking clock. I look back upon that time spent in your presence as so important in the development of the person that I am today. You taught me discipline. You taught me dignity. Much more than General medicine, which was what you were supposedly teaching me, you taught me that I could achieve more than what I or other people thought that I was capable of. I could be a success, instead of a clown. I am thankful. I owe you so much for this but can you hear me?

You’re missed, so much, deeply, every day, every moment.

With a deeply hurt heart,
Your ‘parosan’, as you would call me.

P.S: When you were done with your part of teaching medicine, at the last day, you told us all, “Phir viva mein mulaqat hogi.”
We are done with the vivas, we are in a new class now, you never came to meet us.

P.P.S: Even though it was mostly dirty, that Mercedes was literally so attractive and classy!

Guest post by Aroosa Mushtaq.

Tap, tap, and tap!
It resounds into my ears
the water in the bathroom
the faucet leaking
spilling onto the floor,
Slithering – gently and slowly,
sifting away.
I ignore the sound
the disturbing noise,
but it continues.
Seething, slinking
it perturbs my conscious,
slowly sinking,
it invades my mind.
Exasperated, I open my eyes,
and rub sleep goodbye.
My hands sneak out
testing the outside temperature
it is cold, so cold
but the water’s dripping.
“Oh! For Pete’s sake,”
I grumble and turn
pushing the covers off
I make for the bathroom
and there, that menace!
The water drips into a pool
I make my way over
and with one swift motion
make the faucet run dry.

 

Sleep doesn’t come back
and there’s little else to do
maybe a shower then
maybe a nice little hairdo.

So I clean up and dry
I tie my hair into a pretty bun
I take out the red heels mama bought me
and I wear them with my tutu.
I sit on my bed
all made up like a prima ballerina,
I make sure to wear that new lipstick
And I’ve painted my nails red.

 

Thud, thud, thud!
It blasts into my ears
my dreamy conscious asks
“Oh! What the devil now?”
It’s my upstairs neighbour
that stinky old retard
always fixing things
always hammering nails.
He runs up above
as if it’s his little playground,
He’ll rupture a bone, I’m sure now.
The blasting continues
loud bangs on the floor
Impossible to ignore
I take a long rod,
longest I can find
But it doesn’t reach up.
So I climb up on the bed
I jump to reach the ceiling.
One, two, three!
“Jump”

The rod pierces first, taking me along
through a bit of plaster and dust
towards a very shocked neighbour.

Untold.

Have you ever wondered
what does the back tell?
That every little thing the mouth
is reluctant to speak about.
All the moments witnessed
by the eyes but untold,
the unopened aches of the heart,
the darkness of night,
the silently endured miseries.
This is why,
in this little dangling life,
the other day
when I stepped over a hurdle and
stumbled,
I realized, my spine weighed so heavy,
for it actually carried all the burden singly
and never complained,
telling about each gust and every gaze
fallen upon it, to the one who listened.