Month: October 2015

My question

My question , dear readers, is very simple.

What does it take? To shine and go rise beyond expectations. To be the best. To reach the moment when you can actually say I did it.

What will it take? When do we say enough, now maybe I can kick back my heels and relax.

The answer is you don’t. It’s never enough. But you know in your heart, that yes, when is the time to stop pushing and start living.

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Me and My Memories


I often contemplate when there is silence, what would happen if I just died now. On my will, by somebody else’s hand, through a freak of nature. Whatever the reason, what will happen?

Sometimes, you can’t help it. These thoughts circle your mind. They plant a seed and it grows. You know it is wrong, life is precious. It is to be cherished and to be lived. But what if you just want an out at times?

Something always throws me off track, make life seem like a chore more than anything else. There are days I wanna go to sleep and never wake up again.

Life is hard, they’ve been saying it from eons of ages. People die, what if I was the next in line. I mean, I took a wrong decision, this way maybe I can get an option of redo, or just a blank dark slate.

Whatever the reason, whatever the musings, these thoughts come. And with them comes a sense of peace. But the peace lasts for just one minute.
The peace is followed by faces.
Faces of the people I love, the people who love me.

My father, my mother, my whole crazy extended family, my girl trio, my best friend, my person, my pig headed friends, my friend who calls me at 2 in the morning to ask if I am done with my course. I think about the teachers who believed in me. Face of that didi, that maid who watched me grow up with such pride.

I think about the memories, memories of laughing, crying, fighting. Of feeling lost, of being found. The sense of belonging, the sense of home. The feeling I had when I life kicked me in the ass, and the one when I kicked her back.

All those moments, my mother’s smile and my father’s pride.

The seed, that little seed, just dies.
But it’ll come back, and me and my memories, we’ll be ready.

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