Can you Forgive

This is perhaps one of the few posts I will make, in which I myself do not have complete faith. Everyone tells me I get hurt very easily. Guess I do. And the worst part is, sometimes I'm not really good at hiding it, either. We hurt people, people hurt us. Who is right? Is there a right? Who decides? I don't have answers. Maybe I don't need those answers either. But one question which I do need an answer to, is "Can I forgive?" Or rather, "Do I forgive?" Again, I don't know. I try. But do I really truly do it? If I do, why does it still hurt, every single time?

I had lost this poem in the passage of the years, it came back at a moment when I was really feeling antsy. The last line goes "We’ll all find peace if we forgive." But then, peace has never been one of my strong points. And "I forgive you" sounds so condescending. I wonder if it so, in reality. I'll try anyway. Forgive me too?

Forgive 

                                     -Danielle Rosenblatt

Forgive the sun who did not shine

The sky had asked her in to dine

Forgive the stars that heard your wish

The moon prepared their favourite dish

Forgive the rain for its attack

The clouds have tears they could not hold back

Don’t hate the birds because they are free

Don’t envy all the things they see

Don’t block the wind, but hear its cry

Or else that wind may pass you by

Forgive the storm it means no harm

Could not resist to, show its charm

Forgive the earth that never turns

Don’t hate the sun, because too much burns

Life intends to cause no pain

The flowers bloom from all the rain

The storm will come and it will pass

The sun that shines, it grows the grass

The wind it cannot help but cry

The stars at night light up the sky

Forgive the world in which we live

We’ll all find peace if we forgive.

Life,Blues, and Some Answers

I had been struggling since a few days to make sense of it all. People killing themselves, choices and consequences, acceptance (or rather the lack of it), and of course, human folly. In short, the usual drivel. I got caught in a Mobius loop of it all. I talked it over with a friend, and a few home truths came out.

Truth one. I am scared. I am scared every day of my life. If it goes bad, I’m scared it will go worse. If it goes good, I’m scared it will go bad. I’m scared I will not be able to cope. That I’m not good enough. That one of these days, I’ll snap.  

Truth two. I am confused. I revel in grey. I don’t put things in black and white. I wrote before of hating “straightlines and twisted logic”. I probably wear glasses to see things blurred, not to see them clear (this is metaphorically speaking, not literally!).

Truth three. I am never going to be ‘normal’, in the most ‘normal’ use of the world. I am always going to be a bit of a loner. I will always have trouble finding people who are like me (and consequently, like me. As in, ‘like’ the verb.). I may never get what I want of life.

All of which leads to Truth four. Ta-da! (Well, ok.).
When I say I am scared of snapping, I know that I will definitely snap. One day, but it’s not today. It’s never today.

When I say I am not good enough, I know it’s true. It also could have been worse. I am lucky to not be homophobic, or xenophobic, or bacillophobic. Or even a sociopath, for that matter.(Oh wait. I am probably that partially. Just kidding.).

When I say I revel in grey, I know it’s something I will struggle with for years to come. It also means I have a sharper perception of all other colours too. Specially those in people.

When I say I am not normal, I know it makes it tougher for me to survive. That doesn’t stop me from  knowing that I can. Not matter what, no matter how, I will see it through.

When I say I may not get what I want, I know that it is pretty much true, too (never mind what the birthday and new year wishes say). But I will always have what I need. Always.

I mentioned once before that I feel like a fraud with my words. Because they are just words, nothing more. But I still cling on to them, because, perhaps, they let me be who I am. And in my own poor, stupid way, I am an all right person (at least kinda).

And if the whole thing read too oxymoronic, it is probably because that’s exactly what it is. That’s why they call it life. Otherwise they would have called it three-cheese-and-pepperoni pizza. (I know you grinned at that.) 

Click-a-roo II

Joy. Unbridled.

Its Over.

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken 
I just want you to know who I am .

                                                      -Goo Goo Dolls - Iris

I start to see the pattern. Every time I think, this will be different, every time I open up, I’m only handing people ammunition. I understand that no matter what I do, I cannot make the world love me. There is nothing to love, nothing to respect. Only a black self-annihilating void. I abhor myself and everything that I tried to hold close. I seem to have some kind of anti-Midas touch, whatever I touch turns to poison.

I realise the fact that I am a fool and a fraud. My words are just that, words. They have no power, no life. Except to bring out the pathetic whining of my demented mind. My ideals have been shattered, each pounded to pieces. My ideas ring hollow and false.

Its time I called myself a failure. I lost. I thought I would make my own rules. I thought I would be good at what I am good at. I tried to make the small things count. But I am only mediocre. I am defeated. My best is not good enough. I am not good enough. I am sorry. I tried.

Its over. I would be lying if I said there is nothing left for me here. There is. But somehow, I don’t find it in me any more to seek it. I know it’s not the worst a person can go through. Not even close. But this time, I just want to give up. I would fight it, if I could. Smashed, broken and bleeding, I would have hung on. But I don’t want to, not any more. I want to let go.

I guess that also makes me a coward. How fitting. That I should become everything that I have always hated. But I can and will maintain one last semblance of prestige. I shall not make excuses. The only faults to be found, I will find in me. Not in the world, not in life, not in any one.

Please know that I love you, in my own weird way, across the words. Every one. Thank you for listening. Whether a minute or an hour or a year, you brightened up a stupid girl’s world. Whether you knew or not.

As I read this over, it sounded a bit like a suicide note. No, you probably won’t find a body on the bed tomorrow morning. But if you search in the rubbish heap, you might just find a soul. 

Goodbye.

[image courtesy:http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2203/2498445479_064841a97d_o.jpg]

Anyway

“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”- Elisabeth Kubler-Ross 

The following poem is variously attributed to Mother Teresa and Kent M. Keith. The verses are displayed on the walls of the Missionaries of Charity's children's home. It should probably be displayed on all our walls. And our hearts. 

ANYWAY

People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds;
Think big anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs;
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them;
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and it will never be enough;
Give the world the best you have anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;

It was never between you and them anyway.

Click-a-roo I

Hint of Colour on a Wind-shield

Learning

A personal favourite, in good and bad times.I have learnt how true it is. And I have learnt how hard it is to learn it, too.

You Learn

- Jorge Luis Borges (translated by Veronica Shoffstall)

After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning

And company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts

And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…

That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth…

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.