“What if we all are just mere stories in a dreamers head, what if life is one in our own head, what if you are just a villain in my story, my dream, a nightmare I hope I don’t recount again.”
-Aanya
Illusions, dreams, nightmares, hallucinations. What if in reality that’s all our life is? Or what if maybe, we dreamt it all up and woke up to find none of it is real. What if you were never really my friend, just a villain in my story. What if you hadn’t been my friend all along, what if you don’t exist and I had dreamt you up. What if me annoying you was your nightmare and it didn’t happen, what if I was so lost in my dreams I thought you responded but you didn’t.
What if you dreamt me up, or about me, and then forgot it wasn’t in real life. What if you imagined me something I wasn’t just for the sake of your sanity. What if you didn’t exist and I imagined it all up, all of you, all of everything and I am indeed insane in another world of reality.
Nothing is real in this world except me, or is everything real except me. What if this universe is paradoxical and I belong to a parallel one, what if one day you all turn against me, different creatures and I am the only one left, and such so in another universe, where people like me turned against one of you.
What if you all are coded to tell me you’re real and yet fill the same confusion in my mind thinking we’re the same but we’re not. What if you want me deluded, to turn me into something I’m not, or maybe just to throw me out of your way. Maybe you didn’t mean to hate me, maybe you were taught too. Maybe I should forgive you cause you were never really who you were, or maybe cause you didn’t exist, like now you don’t, atleast not for me.
What if all we see in this world is just our worst nightmares mixed with reality, or perhaps the good in our dreams mixed with the brutality of this world. The world is just an illusive vision, or maybe we are unwritten characters in a writer’s mind. Maybe we are characters in a book and people are reading us like we read or maybe people are watching us in a movie hall eating popcorn, without a care in the world, with kids screaming about everywhere. What if there is a larger and greater species than us, and to them we are just as tiny as atoms and exist like the amoeba, unseen yet studied upon by the curious.
And at the end what if nothing is real but I am, all alone in this universe just a single soul, with no assurity so as to what life is……..
From that teeny little 4th grader who learnt to beatbox and whistle on songs To the one who used to be so happy when with her tiny keyboard she performed To the one who learnt the guitar, fingers bleeding in pain At the end of the day This was all for that tiny little girl Who just wanted to show other people the new song she learnt on the guitar that was so much bigger than her To that 6th grader who'd sit on the tables of her class playing random songs with her classmates cheering her along We've come a far way since Might have lost touch and gotten worse But the point was to enjoy the all the way along right?
I’m going to college in a few days. I started this blog in grade 8th when I was OBSESSED with Harry Potter I have definitely grown out of it now (somewhat). Some things have stayed the same and a few others have changed, do visit the site to find out.
I have decided to change the blog name to ‘Faletusiican Caves’ which is a reference to my own book (someone has be its fangirl and until I find someone it’ll be me). If you want to check it out you can find it here.
And yeah, here is to new beginnings!
I’m also coming up with a new Sudoku Blog soon (I’m a huge nerd, surprise!), so stay tuned!
Thank you so much for all of your support these past 5 years!
June. The month with the strawberry moon Quite an exciting and exhausting month this time i’d say From starting the month by solving sudokus to ending it by building blocks I guess all the races i watched were the only constant Spent all of it by continuously knitting a scarf with my plans for when i reached the end of exams that life just kept unravelling….. Just for me to realise i am sort of free now aren’t i? I can infact stay up until 4am to read And so i did I don’t have to study all day I don’t have to plan which chapter i’m going to study what topics to finish right down to the minute! It just sounds exhilarating right? Right to when the exams get over and i realise that there are so many things that i’m out of touch with Trying to reconnect but i can’t Before everything was planned Now it isn’t… Sounds free right? But is it though?????? Terrifying to say the least My future is in my hands completely but i’m free right? Or am i really…?? The transition from school to college hasn’t happened yet I’m done with school but college hasn’t started What am i now? Where am i now? This time in between confuses and confounds me Where does one end and where does the next start June, this june One ended with me getting my marksheet officially for school to end And acceptances from different colleges for the next month May marking the end July marking the start But i’m stuck in june or atleast i was… Everybody moved on but im still in june Terrifying to say the least I want to leave june yet somehow stay here too…
Anyways that was my June wrapped up 🙂 how was yours?
See, what amazes me is being a science nerd and a poet I know how stars work, yet somehow I’d rather they blink at each other in love than listen to the science I’d rather rainbows be a pretty bridge with a pot of gold at the end than just refraction of light I’d rather believe in the pretty purple potassium permanganate color than know it is ligand-to-metal charge transfer But at the same time, the beauty of science is marveling because I’d rather know the brain controls emotions than blame it on my inbuilt blood purifier I want to know the way atoms build and create the universe, but not the theories they disproved I want to know how light works, how it bends, and I want to know which colors exist and how they work And I want to know the Aurora Borealis, the physics behind it, rather than it be a magical colorful wonder. I want to understand architecture, the beautiful bridges and buildings, how they were built, how they remain standing, instead of admiring the carvings I want to know which metal knives and tools they used to do the carving, which metals sustained, instead of just staring at the carving Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t about believing in science or literature. Maybe it is both… Life is both, isn’t it? Those who dream invent Those who believe create beauty and knowledge Science and art go hand in hand, don’t they…..?
Every day you’re alive could end up being one they study forever in history, so make sure to pay attention to it.” Her father’s words, once her mantra, now echoed in her mind like a taunt.
At this point Jenna was fed up with it. “It’s just one day,” she thought, “It doesn’t matter, I have plenty of time, I can deal with things tomorrow.” She could study tomorrow, she said, she’d work on new skills tomorrow.
Now, a reigning cliff diving champion and a Harvard student, she was the epitome of success. People marvelled at her effortless grace, her intelligence, her luck, sheer luck to them. People believed her talent came naturally, but that wasn’t true. Jenna had worked hard, but praise and tabloids made even her believe it was effortless. After years of fixating on how she worked hard, she believed them now, maybe “I don’t need to work hard she thought, it’s all natural isn’t it?” she thought. She stopped working for it, she began procrastinating; and went from “I’ll wake up at 4 am to finish my tasks and train” to “I’ll do it tomorrow, one day doesn’t matter.” The pressure to maintain perfection had become a suffocating weight. Her once-ironclad work ethic had rusted, replaced by a dangerous reliance on impulse and instant gratification.
This continued, she was at an all-time low, she never realised how hard she worked. She used to be fed up with people because she did, she worked hard, she now believed these people. Her grades slipped and now she wasn’t that academically gifted kid anymore but a failure, “at least I still have diving,” she thought. Though she didn’t train as much for it. She stopped taking it seriously, she had been crowned world champion four times, and the dangerous dives off of cliffs?
She began to make them carelessly.
She lost her fear for them, and it was not something to not be afraid of, she underestimated them.
And then disaster struck.
She carelessly dived one day then all of a sudden she realised two horrifying things: the water was cold but in a different, cruel manner this time, what felt like a safe haven each time now hurt her, and that she could not push her body to come up, she was drowning.
She was hurt and that too pretty bad, yet something lured her to swim deeper and not just pain and shock, she heard something and whatever it was she had to find it, she had full faith that she had heard a voice, it kept cajoling her towards it, she felt an electric rush pass through her. There was a voice singing to her like the mythical siren, coaxing her to come nearer, to let everything go away, it was what kept her down and under the water, the pain didn’t, had she swam out at that time she would’ve been fine, wouldn’t have succumbed to the water pressure and her injuries but there was that voice, that whispery melodious song ringing in her ears, reminding her of the fun and the worthless pleasures of life. Of an alternate reality where life was effortless and of the greed to earn things without actually working for them, but when she was entranced enough, she felt the electric jolt again. Except now it reminded her of her mistakes, the sweet voice turned into a haunting and mocking one reminding her of what she had now lost in this greed, the daydream of hers wasn’t real, it never would be and that was when she knew she messed up.
And then she woke up, regained her consciousness and she was in the hospital, except now everything was different, her parents were there, eyes filled with worry and disappointment and pain, so much pain. Her coach was there as well, trying to analyse something asking her what went wrong, why didn’t she swim up when she knew she could.
She knew she should have swam when she had the chance too. Had she kept up with her training, the fall wouldn’t have impacted her in any way, but now she couldn’t even look at the people in her room without feeling the guilt.
How they were all in pain because of her, they thought it was an accident, deep down she knew it wasn’t and at some level they knew it was one which could’ve been avoided too had she not procrastinated. The greed to postpone things to tomorrow and that alternate reality she dreamed of wasn’t real, those practices she missed and stalled till tomorrow were exactly what she needed. She was so out of touch with her body that that dive completely ruined her spine.
Her fall fractured her skull as well and now she was facing the consequences of her actions. She couldn’t walk again, she couldn’t even speak again.
She lost it all because she delayed things and postponed it to tomorrow.
Had she not waited for tomorrow to come to work on her swimming and training, had she not missed those physics lessons in college and actually paid attention to how the water and pressure works she wouldn’t have lost everything in her life.
She never realised the importance of each day; she used to internally laugh when her father tried to remind her of it and this day; the one when she didn’t pay attention to the life threatening activity she performed, when she underestimated it, did indeed go down in history.
Once a celebrated athlete she was now reduced to a precautionary tale.
All this time, “Tomorrow” she said, not this time though, there was no tomorrow….
Wrote this sometime back for a competition took a lot of influences from real life, but yeah life goes on, things happen…
Haven’t posted for a while with so many things going on, but finally college soon! I’m thinking of making a new Sudoku puzzle site because I’m a nerd with weird obsessions, stay tuned!!
Anyways how have you all been, what are you currently reading? Do let me know 🙂
You can’t patch up a cloth over a hundred times It wont retain its style You could say it feels more homely know after one or two times Worn in and comfortable Just like home But darling you can only patch it a few times In the end it becomes a rag Used and torn apart Redundant to say the least Utterly destroyed by those mordacious clashes I know that only love can hurt like this And you know it too So why’d you have to hit me where it hurts the most Because there’s a limit to how much you can fix And even you with your smarts and intelligence quirks you teased me about Can’t fix it all And change it back to the way it was There’s no magic for us Just reality That now we are apart And you’re happy now Because you’re free Free from me…..
There is an specific amount of times you can salvage a friendship, try to fit in or be pushy about it, but then you just reach an extent and then there comes jealousy. The jealousy which quite wisely put never has an expiration date, but one day you grow out of it just unexpectedly out of the blue you forget that a person exists and you move on and the joy that comes with it is the best.
There are no words to describe it you just stop caring kill off the character in your story and move on to a new chapter with different people different scenes and lesser but more valuable characters. In the end so many things are best left unsaid..
This past year had sooo many ups and downs and honestly there is so much I can say but then again it’s special yet not and some secrets are best when there is a mystery.
In the end both sides feel relieved when we loose someone because it’s for the best.
Anyyywayssss I’m backkk
Boards are over and I’m elated I’ll try to post more often now :)))
Feeding on darkness
Such a delight
My hunger is finally being sufficed and fulfilled
What a joy it is to live in this century
With humans who care
A bit too much
And then none at all
Oh this society
Doesn't think at all
These demeaning taunts
How I feed on them all
Such joy to exist
Ebullience rushing in my veins
I think of a time when humans used their brains
Such an abomination was it when they didn't kill themselves with strawberry flavored vape
I'm elated to live now
And forever prevail
~Suicide’s musings
Thought I’d do something different and write the musings of suicide as a character living in our era. Each year on 10th September Suicide prevention day is marked to help people and spread awareness on why mental health is important and how drugs and suicide are not the way to combat life and problems. With each day suicide is a growing issue impacting millions in the world. Least we could do is recognize the symptoms before a person commits it and help prevent it…..
Confused is the man who takes a break Yet is unafraid The man might be confused At least he isn’t dull Temporary solutions exist Don’t force yourself to choose the one In which you won’t exist……. ~Aanya
Um hi? I’m alive hehe…. Tenth is hard💀 So I wrote this poem long back questioning everything inspired from Oscar Wilde’s quote ‘To define is to limit’.
Who am I?
To define is to limit.
To define me on my religion,
Or from the state I belong,
Or maybe to define me on my looks,
My hair colour.
Or perhaps the colour of my eye,
And yet so from the area from where I use my wifi.
From my country,
Or from the colour of my skin,
From my age,
Or to define me on the basis of my brain.
Whether I am a fool or a sage,
To define me as a human is yet again to limit.
Maybe that’s limiting us all,
What if we are not one at all?
What if we are different?
What if defining a person,
As a person is not at all free but yet again to limit?
Calling them by their names is to limit,
Like Anne said;
She was an Anne and a Cordelia,
And maybe we all have a Cordelia we just need to find.
But then again,
We define.
And,
We limit.
We limit greatness,
And we limit,
Creativity,
Freedom,
Happiness,
And at the end,
We limit,
Life.
So like this poem was more of a rant on how we all are limited and just caged. I mean even the free birds don’t have freedom…. At the end of the day they are caged To the sky~
I am me,
The small gentle little girl who hides behind her hair,
And the one who craves the spotlight and lets herself shine,
Run and soar in the morning air.
I am me,
The timid nerd behind her glasses,
And the girl who can easily challenge masses.
I am me,
And I am fire,
You can roast me,
But I will burn you after you try,
From the splinters of your pitiful fire,
I will change it into a forest fire,
For I am me.
I am a star,
Not here to be pretty though,
I am burning, writhing and raging yet dying,
But I will live longer than mankind,
For I am a star.
And I will be remembered as the star,
With people trying to study me and making me a part of their memory and textbooks,
A millennium later.
For I am me,
And not afraid.
I am fire,
And not afraid to burn the world down to build it again.
And I am a star,
I exist not to look brighten up someone's night,
But to be gazed upon as a powerful, unreachable and invincible body.
I am ME....
The Faletusiican Caves 