Musings × 03

It is such a cliché, isn’t it?
To reflect back right at the very end of each year?
To ponder over the decisions that you took and the ones you just didn’t have the courage to?
And yet we do it. Consciously and sometimes our mind just wanders off while we drink coffee or maybe during a house party with friends and family. Our mind is a funny little thing, it can make one lonely even amidst a sea of people. And it can make you feel like the most famous person in the world while sipping tea from a stall with two of your dearest friends who’ve known you for as long as you’ve known yourself.

“What have you learnt this year?”
“What has this year taught you?”

Even the most generic questions get to you sometimes, you know?
When you know the answer is going to be the most obvious one. A few adjectives here and there. A nice quote from a book or maybe a fool typing out a whole paragraph and yet not being able to pen down the reality.

Well, how do you encapsulate a whole year into a few sentences? And even if you do, can they really reflect all those hours? Those minutes when it just felt like time stopped? That this was it? Nothing would ever be the same?
Can that be articulated? Is it quantifiable?
I don’t know. And hence I would probably go the same way as everyone else.

Someone may find that I’m being too mediocre with my approach but I think for a change, I’d like to be involved with mediocrity. Atleast I’d feel like I’m part of this world again.
We’ve all experienced what disconnection is.
So here goes;

  1. No matter what, life will go on.
  2. Whatever/whoever you think is good/best for you might actually be the opposite.
  3. Forgiving someone is hard. It requires a lot of courage to forgive and give back their places.
  4. Owning up to your mistakes may take a long time but you will know when it is time to do so.
  5. Forgive yourself for whatever you have done. Try not to do the same again.
  6. There is no alternative to trust. It is the basis of every human relationship.
  7. The closest ones hurt you the most.
  8. To put blame is easy. To maintain integrity for those who’ve lost their own is the true mark of commitment.
  9. No matter what, life finds a way to go on. Whatever dies shall be restored.
  10. One unexpected person can light up your life in the most unexpected way.
  11. We’re all hurting and healing; being considerate and mature is being strong.
  12. Not everyone has the strength/courage to give up who/what they love.
  13. Pathways open up in an instance and then close up even faster. Like getting into a globally top ranked university and ultimately giving it up due to constraints.
  14. Even the ones who know you can misunderstand you based on other’s opinions. You can’t make everyone understand everything.
  15. Those who are meant to stay, will stay.
    What is meant to happen, will happen.

Hope the coming year brings some joy into our lives. Hope we can talk more about issues and shout less about trivialities. Hope the world becomes a better place. Hope we become better human beings.

©theblackcurse via the year that changed everything

Musings × 02

“Don’t fall in love with her”

Oh but how could I not?
Sweet sixteen. Hormones raging.
Feeling like the king of the world.
Spending hours and hours Infront of that mirror,
Back brushing his hair in the perfect way.
Making sure the shirt is squeaky clean.
Reaching to school as fast as he can.
And rushing past the gates to run upstairs to the classroom.
And there she was.
Everyday. The first one to arrive to school from their class and he was always the second.

Felt like a love story indeed.
Empty benches. Clean chalkboard. No one around.
Just us. Looking and then looking away.

Sweet notes of the classic love song playing somewhere around sombrely.
She loved standing at the far end of the room; beside the window sills.
Looking out onto the concrete basketball court.

He used to worry; if the senior players were what she looked at. But her sheepish smile and the rosy cheeks gave her away.
And don’t be mistaken; her mocha skin made it excruciatingly hard to understand the colour.

They exchanged feeble morning wishes. Nothing more to say.
Two steps forward; three back.

The bet with his friends comes to his mind.
“Tell her before it’s too late. Unless you’re a wuss.”

He ain’t a wuss. He ain’t afraid. He just wants to make sure she won’t walk away. Or worse; say thank you when he tells her how she makes him feel.
About the butterflies that have manifested in his stomach and won’t leave him no matter what.
And about the sudden music that bursts out of nowhere when he sees her.

Does he sound needy? Cheesy? Crazy?
Oh what a tragedy!

Two steps forward. One step back. A few friends come into the class now. It is raining quite hard. Most students will sit home and more importantly; assembly would be cancelled.

That means he can sneak up behind her desk..
And there’s the song again.

The upbeat piano beats; matching his heartbeat.
“Let’s not screw this up”

Deep breath. He walks up to her.
And she looks at him.
Smiling. Expecting. Waiting.

She whispers “don’t fall in love with me”

Oh but how could I not?

©theblackcurse

Picture Courtesy – Debasmita Chakrabarty

Musings × 01

The memoirs of people who’ve left this worldly abode.
The inhumanity stored
In fragments of books and in people’s minds.

I look at thee in contemptuous agony,
I see through your soul,
Barren and empty,
Like the desert which was once a lovely seashore.

You have your own labels and antiqued ways,
How naive to think that even heaven is ruled by a king in a golden throne?
That angels in white robes await men who have not sinned
And that Beelzebub’s wrath awaits all those who’ve led a life not prescribed by hypocrital fanatics writing the testament of old and new.

How insane we must be
To imagine the exact same camaraderie
Even after Death comes to take us away
All we ever see is what we want to see.

©theblackcurse

Picture by Debasmita Chakrabarty

A faceless man in an empty room

The sunlight ushers in through those tainted glasses loosely fitted into the window panes. One could see innumerable particles of dust and what not floating around; glistening in contrast to the rays of the sun.

The chalk box is empty, the duster seems to be missing and a few words appear to be etched on the blackboard. The words are half rubbed off yet one can easily decipher the missing letters.
The desks stand still, like soldiers in the army line reporting for duty; showcasing past injuries and scars that makes one remind of that model essay about the autobiography of a school desk where it was told how the desks quiver in unbearable yet silent pain when students carve something onto them. The room seems to be squeaky clean, white mezzanine floors with only one corner seemingly filthy. An overburdened dustbin that has spewed out what it couldn’t contain. Crumbled sheets of paper lay strewn about the old tin dustbin.

No students can be seen. No voices or any uncanny noises can be heard. Just the ticking of the white dial wall clock breaking the tension that can be sensed amongst the atmosphere.
The systematic ticking and the heavy breathing of a man sitting at the teacher’s desk. The two sounds have synchronised to such an extent that if one doesn’t pay attention; one cannot be differentiated from the other.

Receding hairline of brown hair with a salt and pepper beard. An oversized brown coat worn lazily over a shabby blue shirt. Creased all over and faded near the buttons. A vibrant coloured tie breaks the monotony of melancholic colours draped over the man; a red and brown striped tie with a Windsor knot.

A sense of defeat looms around the classroom and seems to be accelerated by the eerie silence. A paper cup sits comfortably on the desk infront of the man; towards his left. A convoluted mesh of intricate designs swirl up from a half-burnt cigarette that rests rather uneasily in his left hand.

How easily has the world been fooled by a select few into forming deadly addictions out of objects that ultimately put us in the grave.
What a genius move it was to advertise a stick of tobacco and a yellowish substance poured over a glass filled with ice cubes as a symbol of wealth, superiority and power. And for those of us who fall outside the purview of these words; it was transfused and transformed into a symbol of relief!
That’s the catch to selling any goddamn product – finding the right word that echoes through the soul of the consumer and the common man gravitates towards that product inevitably.

The man sits back on his chair; loosening his tie slowly. He drops a piece of paper onto the desk as one does once the content is read. He finishes the cigarette and throws the bud away. The bud flies onto the far end of the window and hits the glass before falling down onto the floor. The last few flakes of tobacco burn as the man looks towards the flickering light. He picks up the paper as if to read it again.

Temporary problems sometimes do require permanent solutions. If not solutions then definitely closure. Another one bites the dust, Sir

The paper is crumbled and flung onto the pile of rubble lying near the dustbin. It mixes with the rest of them making it indistinguishable.

“Class dismissed

©theblackcurse via Detachment

Oblivion

We run around hither and thither,
Unaware and unabashed.

We walk around the corners,
Not knowing what’s waiting for us there.

The darkness is somehow eerie.
The mornings dreadful to our very existence.

Why do we fear? When we don’t have anything to lose?
After all, who’s gonna leave this world with what they choose?

There’s nothing to dread, dear child except fearing Oblivion.

© the black curse

Picture courtesy ~ Debasmita Chakrabarty

The flower within

I once touched a picture,
It spoke to me in a thousand different ways.

I saw the incredible paint and the delicate brushes,
Take over my senses and giving me adrenaline rushes.

I stood there placidly,
Noticing the work vividly,
I tried to understand what it conveyed.
Whether the painter wanted to express a lot of happiness like the sunshine during winter season,
Or was it a metaphor for the darkness within mankind itself?

They say flowers are a way of telling everyone how beautiful life can be,
They say even blind people like me can touch the petals and try to see.

They say the aroma of the sunflower is one of a kind,
And those are the times I wish I could see what was there Infront of my eyes.

But then again, aren’t most of us blind? Even after having what I don’t have?

© the black curse

Artwork by NILAKSHI SARKAR

Masquerades

You came in like a butterfly, fluttering around the dark side of my life.
You woke me up with a smile, the smile that can make everything feel just fine.
You made me realise that it was not my fault, that I too could be loved even after being so drastically flawed.
You made my insides crawl, with that look in your eyes and the earnestness in your soul.

You gave me courage to look at myself in a new light; not dreading the shadows and the past mistakes of my life.
You turned all the knobs of my insides and set them right; suddenly I was in tune and singing amidst the moonlight.
I looked at the mirror and there I was; the old me; rearranged and remoulded into someone absolutely new.
And then you did what I could never associate with you;
You left me and didn’t bother seeing me descent into the abyss of my past and the turmoil of breaking down; negating my growth in plain sight!

Tonight I am decked out for the whole world to see me,
They love the mask that is masking my insanity.
The cracks and crevices can be felt if someone looks a bit more closely but no one’s allowed anymore; after what you did to me.My frailties have slowly crept inside and morphed into my reality,My tears have dried up; just like your decaying humanity.

I arrange and rearrange the pieces of my mask every morning,
Only to break it again during the wee hours of my unceremonious mourning.
My hands often bleed because the shards are far too sharp for my skin,
But then again I make myself remember who I am and what I carry within my soul masked by my smile and my body:

A broken mask of beauty masking the marks left on me for loving someone ever so deeply. An emblem to prove that love heals a lot less than it ruptures and damages.

©the black curse

Picture courtesy – Sakshi Jajodia

Unposted Letters #3

I don’t know if I should start the letter by addressing you in a loving manner because of where we stand today. I never thought we’d fall down this far into the pit that getting out and starting afresh would become impossible. But then I believed we could and told you too!
And then the rant began when I questioned my disgusting self.

Why would you believe me? Have I ever given you any reason to? No! Quite the contrary. I’ve given you nothing but pain, tears, turmoils and struggles. How can I expect to heal you now?
I was so stupid to think that it would be easy. So idiotic to think I could do it. I’ve never been able to mend anything. How’s this any different? How can I fix you when all I can do is break people? Funny right? How a broken person can break so many more down? I suppose a shard of glass still cuts deep into the skin of the innocent as much as a knife does.

Did I really take the decision? To leave?
Was it so easy to believe that I’d leave? Yet again?
Was it so hard to trust me one more time, my friend?

Are the scars so deep that I could never even reach them?
Did I fill you up with so much negativity?
That you could see nothing instead?
Feel nothing apart from the fear of me leaving you stranded?
Was I not trying enough? To make things better again?
Was I not trying enough? To mend those bridges I had burnt down between us one day?

Did my eyes not show you the regret within my soul to see you like this? Or were you so blinded by the past that the present made no sense? Was it very difficult to imagine that we could make it till the end? Was it necessary for you to leave me alone during so many nights, my friend?
Did it feel weird when they called you my girlfriend because you’d stopped believing we’d ever reach that stage?
You know it is funny, this age.

Defining love is none of my business and trying to make you realise that this was real was probably a futile exercise. We’d been waging wars from quite a while but don’t you think off late our weapons used to hurt us quite a lot more than the previous times?
I know what I did was the reason for all this mess but baby I actually never even contemplated leaving you this time!
They say our past comes back to haunt us but I believed that our present would be so strong that it’d scare away our past and it’ll make sure we’re never in tears.

The voice notes actually were wrong. The words said were venomous like I am. The tone was hissing like a snake but I am not a snake; I’m not two faced. I expressed and look where it has brought us, dear. Look what I did to you after you took me back again. Look what I did.
I wish I could take it back but I can’t and now it is all too late for anything anyway.

That’s a sad story right there. Our ‘could have’ would definitely have been a dream come true! But then the ink is dry and your eyes are wet again; the Kohl around your eyes are not the ink I wanted to use to write down our story on these white papers.

Why am I so bad? Why is it so hard to be in love with me? Why did everyone around me who tried to love me, give up and go away? I used to think it was a two sided affair but now? After today?
I stand corrected, rectified and completely flabbergasted.
It is always going to be just me and my unmanageable regrets.
I never intended this to happen, you know? I actually wanted us to make it till the end…. but now I realise I’m designed to be alone.
No use trying to make something impossible and improbable into a mess. I’m already one; why make you into one too? I feel sorry for this. I feel guilty of doing this. I am disappointed that you couldn’t trust me the time I really deserved it. I am not supposed to be loved. I cannot be.

In a world full of people who live and love; I’m supposed to survive alone. That’s my destiny. That’s what I shall get. But not you. Not you.
Everyone cannot be lucky enough to find love but look at me? I found it and I lost it. So many times. This isn’t a way to make things fine; using words to melt you because honestly I have understood I can’t. This is not a letter but a declaration of defeat. I accept all that I did. I accept all that I never intended to do. I accept that I am unlovable. I accept that you are better hence you deserve better. Sorry but these words have come back because one cannot hide the truth with compensating lies. It just doesn’t work that way. I never thought I’d bring you down here and now I don’t know if I can ever make sure you get out of this pit of danger but you should. Escape it. You’re meant for better things. You’re meant to be loved in a much better way. By a much better human being who doesn’t have so many underlying issues. I’m sorry for being a mess and making you one too! I’m sorry for being this way. I’m sorry I didn’t die before I ever met you. I’m sorry that it is too late!

©theblackcurse

Digne • Indigne

Sorry for being the person you never wanted me to be.
Sorry for being the partner you never deemed normal and worthy.
Sorry for being the friend you never could flaunt proudly.
Sorry for being a disappointment for you and your family.
Sorry for being a ridiculous excuse of a man.
A hollow shell making sound but worth nothing.
Sorry for disgusting you with my cheap mentality.
Sorry for being so toxic to you and your soul.

People know me to be who I am not.
I am the worst possible man in love with the best possible woman.
I am loved by her even after I have destroyed her in every manner possible.
Her patience is paramount and my paranoia is all she ever gets back!
Anxiety, possessiveness, anger issues and so much more
She suffered it all with a smile on her face and silence wrapped around her lips.
I left her countless times and yet she was there to recover me everytime I came back.

The world should know that you are an angel.
And I am worse than the Devil himself.

I can never be who you wished for me to be.
No matter how many times you buy me expensive ties and shirts; how can a man like me be good from within?

I’m a sinner. I am your sinner. Always was and always will be.

You’re my salvation and I’m your damnation baby.

©theblackcurse

To be continued.

The Mosquito

I’m trapped inside the bathroom,
The lights are off and there’s a foul smell around here somewhere.
Oh how I wish the window was open but it is bolted from the outside
And I don’t know what to do now.

The Sunday is leisurely passing me by,
Everyone is quite happy and content with their lives.
The lunch has been served at the big, brown dinner table,
And the family has gathered around to have a sumptuous meal.

I cough up some blood; everyone stops and stares for a while.
I excuse myself and go into the bathroom to wash my face,
I stand there thinking about someone who used to stay nearby
but now she stays away; we’re miles apart.

I can here the buzzing sound,
It is still here somewhere,
I open the bathroom door and windows,
And then I return infront of the mirror to see my face replaced with a long black pipe of some kind.

I can’t speak. I can’t call out to anyone outside. I’m hapless right now.
All that I hear is a buzz and then I realize I’m the one making that annoying sound.
I lock myself inside the bathroom, I know there’s no way out.
And then I see it flying out the window;
I cannot grasp it in the palm of my hands.

The mosquito flies out. Smiling at the irony left behind.

©theblackcurse

Inspired by Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.