About me. And you.

There is this thing about life,
I wanted to share with you.

In the presence of those beautiful eyes,
I can’t stray away from your soul.

Within the shield of your calming vibe,
I feel I can conquer everyone around.

With the presence of your sweet voice,
I feel as if I am cloud 9 bound.

So be mine, because you make me drive,
And fill the world with our sound.

Loving an object.

Isn’t it easier to love an object,
Than to love another person,
Because whatever happens,
The object won’t say a thing,
Nor would it complain for emotions,
And yet, it won’t say what’s in it’s heart,
Or what it went through during the days.

But isn’t it easier to love an object,
One which is much easier to chase,
As it doesn’t walk away from you,
Nor would it do anything to frustrate,
And yet thinking back I go realize,
That it won’t make you smile or cry,
It will be there just like you want it to.

So then why not love the object,
It will remain there forever in time,
Whether you are angry or sad,
Or you feel happiness or joy,
It will always stand their firmly,
Without blinking an eye or dropping a sweat,
Just like the senseless fool it’s supposed to be.

But then how can I love the object,
When I know that it can’t reciprocate,
Knowing full well that it can’t even try,
And help me talk out when I am annoyed,
But how would it know if I do exist,
And how would it even remember me,
After I leave this world but not the moments.

– Siddarth

A way.

If there was a way,
To hug you so tightly,
With a genuine heart,
And kiss your head lightly.

If there was a way,
To ask you out politely,
As my chest tightened,
While I waited a reply wisely.

If… there was a way,
To look at you nightly,
Calming the storm inside,
Because you make me lively.

If there was a way,
To do all of that timely,
And win your heart,
That’s what I want, precisely.

– Siddarth

The Night.

This night, it’s just beautiful,
Filled with all the silence;
You hear the sound of heartbeat,
Or the rattle of your soul’s fence.

You pour out your thoughts,
Examine your days content;
What was right or what went wrong,
Pushing hard to earn each cent.

And then nights are full of emotions,
A moment to talk to someone you like;
Because at this time all you hear,
Is the genuine words, not a disguise.

Often, people stay up to wish others,
Whether it’s a birthday or anniversary;
Or even the beginning of a new year,
Or ‘Incidents’ when people end up married.

Some use the night to study, or work,
These are the ones that try harder;
The ones who want to change the world,
And dream about that successful startup.

While there are some who just sleep,
Exhausted from their day’s chores;
They look for the opportunity to lay in bed,
And forget the
numerous daytime lores.

But night is young as well,
For people who want it to be;
Or they binge watch that series,
Netflix and chill is better for me.

Yet, night is full of darkness,
Often portrayed by scaring scenes;
Because anything can happen then,
Incidents caused when you are too keen.

This, and so much more is the night,
Coming and going every single day;
So which night was it for you yesterday?
And which one are you wishing for today?
😉

– Siddarth

When being emotional…

A day passed, and it was slow,

Very numb, shouting in the inside;

I kept avoiding the recent lows,

In hopes that the dreams won’t subside.

Morning came, and there were no greets,

I missed the words throughout the day;

Somehow the evening passed without a call,

Seemingly making us drift farther away.

You are the one, or so I thought,

Or, were you just a phase of life;

Uninterested, and so we fought,

Right is wrong, in this hopeless drive.

Triggering again that age-old feeling,

A feeling I thought was locked away;

Loneliness, did, come back to surface,

Kissing goodbye, as the cold heart lay.

Sid

Tough Love.

“I don’t have any stories for you today”, the Mother told the child, “You have been behaving very selfishly and inappropriate since the past week, so no stories for you from now on.” She looked at the child, who now had a puppy-like face, imploring her to read a story.

“Mom you are so mean. Why can’t you tell me a story? You tell me one every day. I can’t go to sleep without hearing a story! Mommy!”, cried the child as she pulled at her Mother’s dress when she was standing up.

“No Laila!”, her mother shouted, “You don’t know how to act in front of others or respect your elders. You need to go back to the starting of yesterday and remember what all you have been doing wrong all this time. I am sure you will realize, so tell me what it is, and I will forgive you. If you can’t realize, then I am sorry.”

Laila looked at her, punched her dress that she had been holding and shouted, “Go away. Idiot!”. Hearing that, the Mother became furious and shouted “Laila! Stop and Go to sleep. Right Now!” and she hurried outside the room.

Once outside, she couldn’t hold her tears. She could still hear Laila’s voice from inside, “Yes! Fine! I am going to sleep! Go to hell Mom!” The Mother just stood still outside the door, put her ears to the door. She could hear a faint sobbing, and after five minutes, nothing.

Laila has probably gone to sleep, she thought, why does she behave like that? What has come into her? Did I not raise her correctly? Did I spoil her too much? When will she understand that she needs to respect others? Perhaps I need to be stricter with her from now on so she can mature into a beautiful woman with a good personality. But I need to be strict with her, thinking this made her heart tight, that is the most appropriate thing to do if I need her to have a better future.

She walked back to her own room, so as to go sleep but ended up reading a story to herself, as tears rolled down her eyes.

-Siddarth

Emotional mis-steps.

“Stop it! Why do you keep gaming? What is so great about it? You should do something productive with your time”, Alex’s father scolded him.

“But I am good at it. See I am already ranked in Diamond class, only a handful of players can reach this stage”, Alex replied, “I am only 19, so I might even be able to make a career in this.”

“Did you just say a career? Are you an idiot? Who will allow there kid to be a gamer. Will you be even able to earn anything. Stop the day dreaming and focus on your study. Next time I see you playing, I will throw the computer away. You should go to sleep now”, the father warned and shut the door.

Alex was very angry. He thought about running away, then he was just sad as he didn’t have any other place to go. He just kept on looking at the game screen for another hour, thinking, “why is this so bad. Why is gaming considered bad? People even play sports and a lot more people try and fail at sports than gaming, in that way gaming has a much higher chance for a person to succeed”, and so his thoughts continued. Before he realized, he went to sleep on the chair with his head resting on the keyboard.

Next morning his father woke him up. He was looking at Alex with disgust. As Alex lifted his head from the keyboard, accidentally pressing some of the keys. He could see a familiar screen on the monitor and after realizing what it was, he turned his head towards his father, scared of what’s coming.

His father punched the wall, only to get hurt himself. He shook his hand and began blowing on it slowly.

All this time Alex was just watching, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to think. He kept looking at his father as he slowly blowed on his knuckles.

After about five minutes his father spoke, much slowly, hoping that Alex would understand, “Please Alex. I can understand by the way you say it, that you must be good at gaming. That’s good. But families don’t earn on games. They need real job. I am already 45 and would want to retire in another 5-10 years. In the time I ask you to do something meaningful with your life so that you can stand up on your own feet. I know you are capable of doing anything if you put your mind to it. So start doing something productive.”

Alex was speechless, it was hard to reply to the weak voice of his father. He wanted to say, “I am confident! I can win and earn from gaming. I can join a professional team. I can make a name for myself”, but he couldn’t gather the courage to say that. Tears began to roll out from his eyes and he just nodded to whatever he heard.

“Thank you, his father replied. I believe in you. You can do so much more.”, his father repeated, and hugged him.

  • Siddarth

Book Review: 13 Things Mentally Strong People Don’t Do

Interesting. Although the explanations seem a bit long at times, I believe it points out the main points that a person shouldn’t be doing.
Obviously no one is perfect, and after reading the book you will realize that you probably do more than a couple of points that have been explained, however, it never is bad to point out what exactly is the wrong or right in your thought process.

It is interesting how the author Amy Morin explained all the points with considerable amount of examples, particularly taking instances and problems from her own life as well as her patients, marking the issues as well as the solutions in the case.

Most of the points mentioned are ones that I am sure readers have had the opportunity to have heard from someone, perhaps an elder. However, until and unless given an example along with it, it doesn’t feel ‘worthy’ enough to be implemented/corrected in your own life. I believe that is the strength of this book in particular.


The book: Buy at Amazon

Our Weakness

There is a way, as they say,

To find the solution and make;

Between the clumsiness of reality,

And the strictness of the fake.

Night after night, I wake up,

Wondering about the riddle of life;

Placing my palm on my head,

Slowly moving to the edge of knife.

Things are not revealed,

So do we keep hiding it?

Will the solution reveal itself,

If the problem is hid in a pit.

Moments pass, memories are born,

Yet some stuff is still unknown;

Better keep those words within,

In this world, weakness isn’t shown?

They say, there is always a way,

So do me a favor and tell;

When was the last time you cried,

And when did you let society hide those tears away.

-Siddarth