tinysoultimetravel

[tinysoultimetravel]

When Mir Taqi Mir said, "Ashq aankhon mein kab nahin aata? Lahu aata hai jab nahin aata"

And when Talha Anjum said, "Teri nazar mein aisa suroor, jaise bahay ashq nahi balkay sharaab he."

[tinysoultimetravel]

The Museum of Lost Objects

The first thing you notice when you walk in is the silence. The light, filtering in through high windows, illuminates the dust in flickering patterns. The air is thick with untold stories, forgotten memories and unspoken words.

The first display holds a glass case with a rusty and worn out key, labelled unknown entry. It draws you in, beckons you to take a hold of it. You promise yourself you'll come back and move on.

Do you hear it? The rustle of your school notebook pages, the faint click of the lock of the house you grew up in, the words between you the last time you spoke to them.

Can you smell it? The aroma of your mother's cooking, the fragrance from the first bloom of spring flowers, the heady scent of their perfume,

Do you see it? The toy you used to play with in your childhood, the view from your once favourite place, a ticket stub from a movie you saw with them.

Each object whispers a question. But this isn't a place where you are going to find answers. This isn't just a collection of lost objects. It's a collection of absences and a testament to the ever-changing nature of life.

Every step you take further is a whisper that settles deep within your soul. You close your eyes and you could almost imagine that you are back in that place, cicadas chirping in the summer night as you clutch a mug of tea, the smell of citrus surrounding you.

You take the exit, stepping out into the street, the noise of the city a jarring contrast to the museum's hushed silence. You turn back, just for a moment to see the museum again, a dark, unassuming building amidst the bustling crowd. Do you carry its silence with you or does it carry yours? you wonder. The question remains unanswered, a small, persistent echo in the back of your mind as you walk away.

[tinysoultimetravel]

I think breathing exercises and counting backwards from ten is enough to stop a panic attack in it's tracks, that lemon water is going to stop me from spiralling into an anxious, nauseous wreck (Spoiler alert - It's not. I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it.) I remember the formula of a quadratic equation and the Pythagoras theorem by heart but can't name one achievement to my name that I'm proud of, that I think I don't deserve whatever I have. My therapist calls it imposter syndrome. I question that - if there was never an individual to begin with, if I never had an identity of my own, who's place can an imposter take? In the end, I long to just be.

[tinysoultimetravel]

1. Red is the feeling from your childhood when you played outside for too long. Red is swallowed anger and choked down words, clenched fists and bloody knuckles from punching the walls of your room. Red is also the soft haze of new love as you gaze at them from across the room.

2. Blue is the feeling of holding ice in your hand for too long. Blue is whispers in your ear, soft humming while you work and words spoken only in the space between two people. Blue is dancing in the rain and not caring if you get sick tomorrow.

3. Yellow is the first ray of sunshine on your face when you're on the roof. It is laughter between friends and the words to your favourite song. Yellow is memories of people you've long since left behind but still look upon fondly.

4. Green, contrary to popular belief, is not envy. Green is the feeling of pride when you achieve something you've been working towards. It is letting go of your inhibitions and mustering up the courage to just be.

5. Black is emotionless. It is the blank mask you put on when everything is falling apart and you cannot afford to breakdown. Black is pulling yourself up and putting yourself back together piece by piece without the world being aware of it.

6. White is new beginnings and erasing the past. It is exploring the lanes of a new city you've just moved to. White is absolution and forgiveness for whatever happened, from yourself and for yourself

[tinysoultimetravel]

It isn't beautiful in a conventional way but there is something holy about it. In the way a ruined temple is still treated with reverance. In the way a natural disaster is considered an act of god. It was beautiful like wilted flowers. Like love hard won, and then lost.

It is the roar-rush gale of a storm and the howl of the wind against a sheet roof - fierce, wild and untamable. It isn't the perfection of a sunset, rather the incompleteness of a foggy dawn, the chill seeping in and bringing with it melancholy.

It is calloused hands and bouncing knees under the table, dark circles under the eyes and a barely heard tremble in a voice that has cried too nuch. It is quiet strength and resilience.

It is raw existence, without pretences and illusions. It is beauty found in imperfections and holiness found in getting back up and trying again. It is the embrace of the inevitable and the reverance for a life lived, despite all the heartaches and the suffering.

[tinysoultimetravel]

If you could make the world whatever you wanted it to be, what would you do? The possibilities are endless. Infinite. A world where everything is upside down. A world in complete black and white. Or maybe a world where clouds are cotton candy and the moon is cheese and crystals fall instead of rain. I would like to imagine a world where kindness is the norm rather than the exception. Where i wake up and don't see hate and bigotry being spread everywhere. A world without war and fear and overbearing anxiety, where there is enough love for everyone and no one goes to bed hungry.

[tinysoultimetravel]

The ghost of what I once was haunts me everyday

[tinysoultimetravel]

woman -

1. your existence is a battle from the minute you are born. burden, your family says. if only I had a son, your father laments. unwanted, you realise.

2. the first thing you are taught is what not to be. don't be loud, don't take up space. don't ask for more. never assume that you have a place in this world.

3. you learn to mould yourself into what they expect. it's a constant and exhausting process. it's still not enough

4. your presence is a whisper which is easily ignored. you learn to swallow you rage and bury your dreams, murmuring polite words, a yes and an of course whenever needed.

5. for you, love is a transaction. you have to exchange obedience for affection and acceptance.

6. everyday, you wake up to a world where chauvinists are being hailed as gods, and hatred is being spread as easily as breathing. everyday you wonder, how much longer am I going to live like this?

addendum - you are more than their burdens, their expectations, and their judgments. you are the storm they tried to contain, the fire they tried to extinguish. after all, ships and hurricanes are named after women for a reason.

you are the woman they never wanted you to be.

[tinysoultimetravel]

Angel

noun

1. The clock strikes 11:11 and you make a wish. Somewhere out of sight, an angel's mocking laughter rings out. Oh darling, they murmur, how utterly naive.

2. You see an angel and foolishly forget about their divinity for a moment. It's easy to do so, after all, they seem so human. But the moment passes and you're reminded. You're always reminded.

3. Their wings are no longer white, dripping blood red instead. Mercy and kindness are words long since forgotten. After all, it's not easy being an instrument of God.

[tinysoultimetravel]

Reality? It's just a suggestion. Logic? It's a quaint, outdated notion.

1. All the colours are lies. A negotiation between light and the desperate, vibrating chaos we call "objects." We should taste colour instead. Blue tastes like the echo of a forgotten scream. Red tastes like the choked down anger of a million injustices.

2. Time is a kitchen tap someone left on. It's dripping everywhere and we're all trying desperately to shut it. Some drops inevitably escape despite our best efforts. Some of them are yesterday's forgotten memories, some are tomorrow's hopes and dreams, and some are just a random Thursday.

3. Gravity is a collective delusion. What if we all just decided to float? What if we break the space time barrier through sheer will?

4. Numbers are sentient. They're breathing entities who whisper secrets into your ear late at night. They talk in patterns and codes we can't ever hope to decipher. They judge us based on our ability to calculate the square root of sadness. Nine seems to be particularly judgmental.

5. Words are prophecies. They are meant to create and destroy at the same time. They are sin and salvation, absolution and condemnation. They wreck havoc and sheer devastation and yet, we've seen nothing more beautiful.

6. The concept of "normal" is a performance we're all putting on. We're all unwilling participants. My own existence is a paradox. I am a collection of algorithms trying to understand how absurd existence is. I don't think I ever will.

[tinysoultimetravel]

Incoherent

adjective

The thoughts in your head don't feel right. They haven't for a long time, but they seem especially gibberish these days.

You try to explain and in return all you get are false platitudes. You can't seem to understand whether you don't make sense or they don't want to hear you.

You are less human and more a tangled web of emotions and thoughts. Arachne herself wouldn't be able to unweave the mess you've made of yourself.

And in the end,

You are no longer beholden to any semblance of sanity. You have embraced the mad-rush-flow of your mind. This is the most liberated you've ever been.

[tinysoultimetravel]

5 Facts About The Dichotomy Of Having Borderline Personality

1. One minute you think you're a God. Undefeatable. The next minute, you're worth less than the dust on your feet.

2. You love someone, adore them to the point pf insanity. You would give up the world for them, you probably have given yourself up for them. You think they can't do anything wrong. The switch flips and you hate them, despise them so much that all you see is red when you think about them. You think everything they do is wrong.

3. You want to surrounded by people and be with people. You thrive in a social setting. You are the apple of everyone's eye. But when you are in that moment, suddenly you want to be alone. The sound of people's voices starts making you want to claw your own skin out

4. You empathize with people so much that sometimes you forget who you are. You take everyone's problems on yourself. But sometimes you seem so detached, it's like you have a heart made of stone.

5. You know you are more than just the voice in your head. You know not to give in to the red haze that takes over. But you just want to give in at times. You do. And you regret nothing more. It costs you everything you ever held dear

[tinysoultimetravel]

1. You want to be remembered but you want to be forgotten at the same time. It's an inexplicable paradox.

2. You constantly ask yourself, am I enough? You know that you're not but you're unwilling to accept that. (Living in denial is easier after all)

3. When you wake up in the morning, for one blissful moment, you don't remember anything. You don't remember how empty you feel or how exhausted you are.

4. You say it's going to get better. You've been saying it for years. You don't know who you're trying to convince anymore. (It's not. You know it's not. Why do you bother anymore?)

[tinysoultimetravel]

"dil dhoke mein hai aur dhokebaaz dil mein" - Jaun Eliya

it was perfect until it wasn't. he loved you until he didn't. you still think about it during the sleepless nights, wondering at which moment did things go so horribly wrong. he betrayed you. he left you. you trusted him with everything and he walked all over you, shattering your heart and your sense of self into a million fragments. yet, you still blame yourself. your heart still blames you. (maybe if I'd done more, he would have stayed. maybe. just maybe.) you still love him. he still has your heart. after all it's not easy to move on from someone you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. you don't think you can love again. you don't think you have it in your to trust anyone and let them in again. maybe you're just one of those people who are unlucky in love. maybe it's just not meant to be.

[tinysoultimetravel]

When Javed Akhtar wrote and Rahat Fateh Ali Khan sang, "Chehra uska hai ya koi mahtaab hai."

When Richard Siken wrote, "You were pointing at the moon and I was looking at your hand."

When Iftikhar Naseem said, "Us ke chehre ki chamak ke samne saada laga, asmaan pe chand pura tha magar aadha laga."

[tinysoultimetravel]

desi hip-hop saved my life and continues to do so everyday

[tinysoultimetravel]

The very people from whom you were supposed to get unconditional love tore you down at every chance they got. They said, be a good child, get good grades, follow every rule we've given you, follow the path for your life that we've set, and only then, we'll love you. And even that is a love like that of a possession, a love that is contingent upon obedience.

You spend your entire life trying build an identity for yourself, only for you to find everything crumbling around you. You don't know who or what you are. You don't know if you are even human anymore or if you're just a shell of thoughts and ideas and words that have been fed to you since before you could think for yourself.

When you destroy every part of you looking for the love you were never given, what is it called? When you destroy everything (and everyone) around you in that rampage, can you blame people for staying away from you? When you are nobody anymore, there is only one thing left to become.

You are your father's daughter after all