Thought of the day.

You cannot be great by acting like larger than life, confident beings with heated words, colourful metaphors and fake conviction; used to entertain the mediocre. It doesn’t make you god. And it definitely, will not fool the shit out of real rationality.

TRY

You tried so hard, you tried consistently.

You say you did, but, did you really?

You seem unhappy, you are always depressed.

It takes the best of you and you claim to have panic attacks.

But all you do is ‘try’.

Why is it that you ‘try’?

You dont ‘do’ you just ‘try’.

You try to fight for what you want.

You try to fix what went wrong.

Is it that you console yourself?

Or is it that you actually ‘try’?

Because, what you and I, both don’t realise is that ‘trying’ is a ‘thought’ and not an ‘act’.

‘Try’ is a ‘barrier’, a ‘hurdle’, a ‘rock’.

So don’t you ‘try’, don’t you dare ‘try’.

Just do what you can, and then do what you can’t.

Do that which is ‘mad’, do that which is ‘bad’.

Do that which is ‘wrong’, do that what makes you ‘strong’.

Because whether you like it or not.

“YOU ARE DYING ALONE”.

Yearn

She is addicted. She is fine. She isn’t fine. She doesn’t know. Yet she knows. She cares. She is taken care of. She smokes. She breathes. She drinks and eats. Yet everyday her addiction increases, her heart beats faster, she tries to stay normal. But then she thinks to herself this isn’t normal. But what is normal, and what is the reason? She can’t answer that. She can only ask. She is superficial, double faced and very judgmental. She is kind, open hearted and loving. She is normal. Because normal is a word of great meaning.

From time to time, she has flashbacks. She judges herself, her memories and her life.  She thinks of all the things she has messed up. Everyone she has hurt. But there is no way to make things right, because time has passed, days have become nights. But little does she acknowledge how right now is.

She remembers all the ex-boyfriends she has had, and she knows there is no one she loved. Yet when she was asked if the words of the song playing in the background had any meaning for her, she had said yes. A yes that was confident. A yes that meant, “YES”. But the truth remains as it is. She had never felt for anyone. Or maybe she did, but her conscience was never ready to accept. Her conscience believed she was a sinner and a liar. And this is why, on this day, as she sat and wrote everything that was anything. She was imagining herself in a place that was beyond her reach and yet so close. It was out in the universe yet in her heart. It was in the arms of the man standing right next to her. “If only I was prettier, and better as a person. If only I could be something he would want. If only I had a heart which was pure. If only I was as smart and intelligent to be considered an option.” She knew she was better. Better than all people and all women in her sight. But she had a past filled with darkness. She was comfortable being there. She couldn’t step out of it. It was her home. And he was light. She had recognized the light way long ago.  Yet she opted for the darkness. She chose darkness. She slept with darkness. She regretted her existence and walked back in to darkness.

But now as she sits and writes everything that was anything. She has finally realized, she want his light. She wants to be his home. The person he would come back to and never want to leave. But she knows it is beyond her reach so she decides: “I will watch, I will attend, admire and care. But I will do all from afar and never near. I might not be in love now, I might be heartless now. But he is whom I want. He is the one I want to love. May I fall so deep and never return. This may be my wish and I will forever yearn.”

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The Statue by Khalil Gibran

Once there lived a man among the hills who possessed a statue wrought by an ancient master. It lay at his door face downward and he was not mindful of it.

One day there passed by his house a man from the city, a man of knowledge, and seeing the statue he inquired of the owner if he would sell it.

The owner laughed and said, “And pray who would want to buy that dull and dirty stone?”

The man from the city said, “I will give you this piece of silver for it.”

And the other man was astonished and delighted.

The statue was removed to the city, upon the back of an elephant. And after many moons the man from the hills visited the city, and as he walked the streets he saw a crowd before a shop, and a man with a loud voice was crying, “Come ye in and behold the most beautiful, the most wonderful statue in all the world. Only two silver pieces to look upon this most marvelous work of a master.”

Thereupon the man from the hills paid two silver pieces and entered the shop to see the statue that he himself had sold for one piece of silver.

 

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Khalil Gibran Museum at Bchare in Lebanon