Obsession with perfection

This is a rough piece. This came to my mind find all of a sudden and I felt like writing a blog post over it.


We are all obsessed with something or the other. And sometimes we don’t even realize it.

I am obsessed with a lot of things and then it kinda vanishes away. Like when I was around 10-11 I was obsessed with stamp collection and just a year earlier with fan fictions and etc etc. But I realized that there is this one obsession that never left me~The obsession with perfection. 

I tend to want things to be in an organized way but not all of them. There are some things I don’t care about like my study table which is filled with junk and my unfolded clothes. But when I see the same with others I get irritated. I can’t stand their clothes lying around or their books not kept in a neat pile. Isn’t this strange?

I had mini projects from third semester ( I am in 5th sem as of now) and we had to do make a complete documentation of our project. We worked in teams and when it came to making the documentation, I started to change every little thing. I couldn’t stand a single alphabet not being in the correct format or if an image was not properly placed. Even my code had to be properly indented ( You’d understand if you are a programmer ^_^ ). I realized this habit of mine in my next mini project when I slowly started to change what my teammate had written. I wanted things to be up to mark no matter if no one was going to read it. Even during events in college, if I have some other responsibility  I make it a point to keep a tab on publicity, posters and event management. I want everything to be perfect no matter how much I try not to care it’ll end up bothering me.

I have realized that sometimes this habit of mine irritates others and have been trying to bother less. I question myself why I prefer things around me to be so perfect when I am myself so imperfect. Is it my imperfections that lead me to want everything to be perfect? From my childhood to this day, I’ve been taunted both directly and indirectly a lot of times for a lot imperfections in me. I’ve both cried and stood up for myself. But there are a few things which I can never forget. I wonder if my mind has this obsession so that the people will see how perfect everything around me is.

In the end I do know we need to love ourselves and our imperfections and the fact that we are all perfect in our own way.

I just happen to remember these words of Marilyn Monroe (Nothing’s better than to end a post with a quote :D)

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”

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Run Out Of Words

Sometimes

I run out of words 

to express

the turbulent thoughts

raveling inside our minds,

the unexpected turn of

events in our life,

the burst of emotions

we deal with,

and the scare

of stopping to

read and write

because a life

without them would be

impossible  to live.

 

 

 

Raging Emotions

Ridha speaks her heart out…

I am losing the grasp of my emotions. I tend to cry often now. I think I am close to    someone I am not. I am making people uncomfortable with my words. They don’t understand it, they don’t understand me neither do they try.

They don’t know what I what. They think they know me. I know what I want. I knew what I want from a long time. I’ve been desperate to have it all this time and I don’t want to remain the same all my life.

Love is a million little things. They say love is immeasurable. But for me love is scarce. All I ask for is love from people around me. I crave for their affection not attention. Nevertheless no one has loved me the way I want to be loved. I long for conversations where we try to understand each other, smiles which come from heart and are not forced upon, willingness to hear how my day was and happiness to have me in life.

I might sound too emotional but these emotions have been clogging up my soul.

Is that too much to ask for?

I know I’ve done mistakes which I can’t undo. I know I’ve not been an ideal daughter or an ideal friend but I know my love for them is unconditional. I know I am worthy of a little love.I may not say it but  I am a broken person, trying to find solace in everything I can. Scared that my fear of leading a loveless life doesn’t kill me.

I don’t want to make someone to like me. Why can’t someone just love me for the sake of love and not because they have to? I wish I were the rose everyone would adore, not the thorn which is despised. It hurts even to think that someone you love don’t feel the same, but it kills when they say they wish they hadn’t had you in their life.

I’ve met some people sweet and lovely but I know they are those who’ll come and go. They won’t be there forever. I know it because a few of those people have come in life made a mark and then left. I miss them and would be delighted to know if they remember me  or at least picture me as a happy part of their life. Even today I have some people whose presence I cherish. All these people have lots of things in their life, they might not understand why this all is so important to me, why having long conversations or spending time together often is so precious for me. I don’t know if they value me as much as I value their presence but I  do know that I don’t want to lose what I have today for tomorrow. I want to carve the happy memories which are keeping me sane.

Ridah might be broken but her hope is not dead. She still has some hope left in her heart for a brighter life ahead. A life filled with love, unconditional love.                                      As the saying goes, Just because something isn’t happening for you right now, doesn’t mean that it will never happen.

 

Fade Away

Everything eventually fades away…

The colour

Of henna stains

On my palms;

So bright and red

 

Like

A life

Full Of

Brightness and prosperity,

A soul

filled with

Passion and desire,

Mankind 

Full of

Love and Harmony.

 

Eventually it starts to fade away

 

The colour of joy

Henna

Bids my palm

A farewell

 

Like happiness

Comes for

A while

And then fades away,

Like love

Stays

In our hearts

And then fades away,

Like satisfaction

With life

And success

Fades away,

Like the reason

To breathe

Eventually fades away.

Pillow-Midnight Ally

You hear

Sounds

Of  Sobs

None can hear,

 

You soak in

The tears

And handle

The rage.

 

You are a

Keeper

Of secrets

And lies

No one knows,

 

You hear

The words

Never uttered

Before,

 

You know

The nightmares

And fears

That broke me,

 

You know

The myriad thoughts

That moulded me,

And

My today.

 

You are

Aware

Of  the joy

My soul

longs for.

 

I know I can

Turn to you

At midnights

When my 

Soul gives up.

 

I know

My whispers

Are safe 

With you.

 

 

You are there

When nobody’s there

I’ll shed a tear

To you

Every single-night.

 

 

 

 

 

Escape

Escape. A six letter word, I encounter daily. 

‘Escape.’ My soul yells daily.

For that is the only thing left.

For that is the only hope left.

For that is how you can be free.

Free of judgements, you can no more bear.

Free of expectations, you can no more fulfill. 

Free of questions, you can no more answer.

Free of silence which kills you from inside.

‘Escape.’ Yelled my soul.

I shut it down today like I did yesterday.

I’ll shut it down tomorrow like I did today.

For my heart can’t leave it all back, no matter how hard it tried.

It has learnt to live with it and hopes to rise above it.

‘Escape.’ Yelled my soul.

Again and again.

Strange

Strange it is,

how you know what I want.

Strange it is,

how you make me smile.

Strange it is,

how you catch my sugar-coated lies.

Strange it is,

how you see what no one sees.

Strange it is,

how you bring serenity.

Strange it is,

how I want to see you smile.

Strange it is,

how I complete your words.

Strange it is,

how I influence your mood.

Strange it is,

how we tend to understand each other.

Strange it is,

how our demons vanish when we are together,

and we rise upon their shadows.

Strange it is,

how we talk like we knew each other since forever.

Strange it is,

how we got so close, in the twinkling of an eye.

 Strange it is,

how I fear you invading my heart.

Strange it is,

how I try to push you away.

Strange it is,

how I want you around but not in my heart.

Strange it is,

how I want you to be the same as all.

Strange it is,

how we are so close yet so far.

Continue reading “Strange”