abhijñānaśākuntalam

Live for love

“But hurry! so united, entwined,
mouths broken by love and soul bitten,
time will find us destroyed.”

Federico García Lorca, from “Sonnet of the Garland of Roses,” in The Collected Poems: A Bilingual Edition (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002)

Naan saayum tholmael verarum sayinthaalae thagumaa?

I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible person. I’ve not been giving you the love you deserve. At the end of the day, I love you so much and I’m not making that clear enough.

I’m with you and I have him in my prayers. Nothing else matters

Hold me

When I called you today and heard the sweet timbre of your voice, something snapped within me. The tears were immediate, I won’t pretend they weren’t. Even now, just in remembering that moment, my eyes are moist. Nothing terrible has happened, it’s just that there is an overwhelming surge of emotion. You know when you think that someone has died and then you chance across a book someday and turn the cover and you find a piece of them in a handwritten name, an underlined sentence, a highlighted quote? And then they are suddenly alive? Suddenly more real than ever, suddenly your entire world?  That’s an extreme comparison, but that is how it felt like. I wanted nothing more than to collapse into your arms and just cry and kiss your soft mouth and feel your heat upon me when I go to sleep with my heart beating along yours, and hold your sweaty palm like I did so many monsoons ago. And I want this every single day….husband.

I know you have grown disillusioned. Sturdy. Practical. I’ve inhabited completely the other end of the spectrum. In fact, it’s hard for me to write this because I feel like I’ll burst out crying and I can feel the tears gather in my eyes right this moment. Apparently, nothing is wrong with my life, but to me, it feels like everything is. My life feels lightly sad, like I’m a ghost who’s just standing here, watching from distant eyes. It’s hopeless.

Reasons? Basically, it’s not anybody else but me. First reason is undeniable, I love you too much and I’ll never be able to unlove you. I’ll never get over you. Never bury you. Never forget you.My entire life feels like there is no purpose to it without you in it. I want to have you. Forever. Always. And these meager escapes, you know—ignoring you, trying to fall in love with someone else, writing, pretending art, pretending fame, pretending enthusiasm…well, it’s failing. And I’m panicking because when even they act like only temporary antidotes to this great void I don’t really know what to do. I don’t have a solution. I simply can’t get over you. Even if you stay away from me forever. I’m beyond broken, I’m cracked. There is nothing without you, I’m numb. It’s like dying. I’m crying now.

Secondly, I am deeply unhappy about the person I have become. A coward. A bad daughter. A person who isn’t following her heart (the worst of all self-afflictions), I lack basic empathy and moral sense. I’m disappointed in myself. I have been trying to cure myself though by telling myself I matter. Which is a lie, And I’ve grown up. I’ve realized that everything is not about me. It’s not about my dreams and aspirations and sadnesses. I’m not really that important, I’m not really more than average, I’m not really who I have portrayed myself to be for so long. And at the end of the day, it’s not about me. What am I but an insignificant speck in this universe, uselessly consuming earth’s resources? I’m not talented, useful or handy. And the world does not revolve around me. And sometimes, I have to put others before me because they are worthy of that choice. It’s not about me. It’s been so hard to realize that.

People have been asking me why I’ve been depressed. And I know I am. I know I am clinically depressed, I’ve heard that before. Honestly, I’m trying not to be so dark, but the mood shows. And everyone’s asking me why I’m depressed. I don’t answer them directly and I don’t tell them it’s because I hate myself for who I have become, I hate how I can’t get over you, I just want to get married to you soon, I hate how I’m trying to cope but it isn’t working, I hate how I cannot write in the composed fashion I used to, I hate how we never made love when we had the chance, I hate how I want to make love to you right this moment but you are so far away, I hate how I break so many hearts.

It’s been so hard, I’ve been disintegrating. But I don’t tell people that. I just tell them sad people should be allowed to be sad, and I give them no reason. Now they’ve gotten so used to it they don’t ask anymore. 

I’ve seen the most horrifying things these days and it has disturbed me deeply. Like on the pier the other day, someone slit a dying shark, and I saw it right before my eyes. The blood spurt from the arteries. My brother forced us to watch Aniyan today because he thought it was brilliant, but it scared me. Life should be dealt with love and tenderness, but most importantly—forgiveness. That’s the right way to go. Forgiveness. Not punishment. I don’t know, the movie just disturbed me. Doesn’t help that the book I’m reading, Indigo, is full of horrible deaths and ghost stories. My mood is turning sour. I feel exhausted. I’ve cut myself a couple of times and have made a big deal of it.

I wish you could just hold me together and keep repeating everything will be okay. I know it’s selfish to expect that, because the world is not about me and I’m basically a terrible person.

But I wish you could hold me tight, and sing Kanne Kalaimane. 

That would be everything. 

That would be all I ever need. I’m so broken. 

“Will you braid the hair of a well-traveled girl, she doesn’t smell of roses, she smells of earth. And all of that it gave her: some hope, some hurt that she gathered. Will you braid the hair of a well-traveled girl?”