Reverse Metamorphosis

I believe that more often than not people fail to see that the one who has broken the promise of a forever feels equally devastated and guilty beyond measure.

Screw that.

6 months is all it took. Today, I'm a different person. I'm the very person I was running away from. Nothing seems to be helping me, now.

Before I had joined College, my Aunt told me something that rocketed me towards the person I wanted to be. She told me, "You are going to College and there are two things that you must keep in mind: Dedication and Discipline. Dedication towards your work and Discipline in your lifestyle." These words struck a bell that kept ringing for months. Then, I guess I eventually gave up. Bit by little bit until now, when I really don't know what's up!

A friend wrote, "...I felt like i had my life figured out." That is exactly how it felt.

Dedication, Discipline and Doctor Who: the three things that taught me to stay independent- happiness was with everyone, but, sadness was within myself, excitement was my own, despair was mine. I expected things from myself and nobody else. As asocial that may be, i was not asocial. I was just expecting more from myself than from others. Thing is, I knew I wouldn't let myself down. That was quite true.What I achieved, that year, was because I believed in myself entirely, without doubt, without fear. I was maneuvering my life at warp-speed in an asteroid belt. I had it in me.

A year later, things began to fall apart. I could still maneuver my life. But, it became very difficult. Doubt found its way in. Fear found its way in. I was just sitting there, like I did not notice these enter. Life became a sequence of denial and acknowledgement. Everytime I denied it, I drove them out. But, every now and then, they came back. The cycle followed.

I became particularly close to this person. Anonymous knew everything about me. Anonymous knew what I believed, what I would say, how I would react, how I would feel. Anonymous was shining bright. And I fell in love with Anonymous. With each passing day, Dedication and Discipline went further away from me. Or perhaps, i went further away from them and they couldn't move without someone carrying them. Eventually, they became memories I would remember when my Aunt asked me what it was she told me. What should have been dedication became obligation and what should have been for the future became dedication. With that, discipline went for a toss. I was still quite independent. Can't deny that. But, little did I realise what I gave up. I began expecting things from Anonymous. Little things like understanding. But, I guess "little" depends on perspective. Either way, that is not what I want to talk about.

I gave a part of myself up. I placed it in the hands of Anonymous. My rainbow ride with Anonymous soon came to an end. By this time, which is right now, I have begun expecting things from people who are not me. It's not a lot of people, but, it's no longer the same. I am no longer independent. And that sucks. My dedication lost its course. It is wandering somewhere I am unable to sail to. My discipline finds itself at staggerheads with Doubt about the dedication I talk to myself about, in my head. Fear fills the empty spaces left by everything that I lost in the past year. Empty spaces after empty spaces, some of them from my own doing and some of them that just happened.

Bright Colours found their home in these spaces, once. It's just shades of Dull Grey or Pale White, now.

My obligations refuse to become things I would dedicate myself to. Fear refuses to move away. I am unable to succeed in a siege over my own self. I am becoming the person I was running away from. And I don't know what I can do. There is nothing likeable about this Reverse Metamorphosis.

For When You Get Here

Dear 18,
I've been needing your letter more than you thought, in the last few weeks. I know you won't like this the same way I am not and maybe even more. But, you need to know that some things change for the worse. I broke them. I broke all of them, perhaps. I had to.
I know that you believed life would be the rosiest if you could make it that way. I know that you were foolish enough to make every promise you did with that in mind. I know that you were too confident that things would be right. 18, you were also very ignorant.
Life is rosy and rainbows. I will never say anything different. But, I think you know, that thunder is a reality. You know what I am talking about. You were there when it happened. You did it because you feared this day would come. Well, it is here. And I broke them.
This letter won't reach you. I don't want it to, either. Because there have been some amazing days. I don't want to risk them by telling you not to make them. But, I will leave this letter in this place, in this time. When you will reach this point, read it. Please understand that you should stop seeing things, about this, in absolution. This does not have diamond absolutes. It's always one ocean overlapping with another. It's both of you and not just one of you. It is not your fault- there were other universes burning. You had to break this one to stop it. You may have been selfish. But, that is what you were left with after giving yourself up. You were breaking apart. Perhaps, I am writing this letter for making myself feel better about it. But, I am definitely writing it for you, when you get here; and when I revisit this.
There's a planet called Venus in me. And it is burning. But, it's not our fault.


 Yours lovingly,
19

Another Farewell Letter

Dear PolSci,

I think- if I don't tell you this at least now, at our parting- I would not be doing right by you; I will not be doing justice to what we have become, over time.
I have to be honest with you, I despised you when we first met. I had reason to. You called yourself a science and it felt like you were mocking my beloved Physics. I hated you for a long time. Call it attachment issues, if it will please you. But, nothing takes Physica away, alright? I still love her. I'm just not sure what I feel for you.
Over time, you showed me what you really are. You showed me something about myself that I hadn't realised till then. You showed me that I will love knowledge, in whatever form it comes. Now, don't take this to mean that I LOVE you. I just love you. I LOVE Physica. Understand? Good!
Anyway, I started liking you. You slowly caught my attention with all of your theories which perfectly blended with my thoughts when i tried to study you. I will be honest, that did not always happen with Physica. You read my mind- or perhaps, I read yours. Getting to know you was to see my thoughts look back at me. You showed me that I understand beauty. You showed me a different sort of beautiful. You showed me the mirror that my thoughts are. Life hadn't been the same after that. What, with your individualism and everything? How could it ever be?
And then when I was comfortable with who you are and what you would make me, I tried to introduce you to Science. The real one, alright? It was just beautiful how the two of you get along. That day, I made a promise to myself that one day, I will make sure that you and Science come together; become the best of friends. What's that point of hatred, eh?
More than a year has passed and I see myself looking at you like I looked at Physica when we parted ways- just not that tnostalgically. I will miss you, but I will not cry for you. I will miss making theories about the world and its weird tidings. I will miss you giving me the chance to speak about the musings of the world without stopping me, ever! But, I will not cry for you!
But, if this is the last time, I suppose I might as well say it. PolSci, you're a science!
I bid you a good life. I love you.

Yours Truly.

Burning out

An urge burns the walls of my heart. A fire rages inside. It wants something.
It wants to do something.
It wants me to do something.
It wants something from me?

I let this fire rage and burn.
I let these walls melt and blister.
I let it consume everything and grow into a wildfire, disregarding what it does to me.

I walk, I run, I jump,
I let time while itself away,
I let people brush past,
I hold on to some unlike anything else,
I eat, I starve, I drink endlessly.
I grin with my teeth bare, I laugh my lungs flat.
I love and never hate. I only befriend.
I write things for you, I erase them because you're worth more than just those!
Is this what the fire wants me to do? It's the one question that chases everything I do.
The fire doesn't tell me what it wants. It wants me to understand it. But, well, do I?

I let it burn through. After all this, it stops. It just stops, not out of exhaustion, but out of blankness. The fire stops because it does not know what it wants. It just burns because it has to.
It slowly recedes back into the heart. What does it want? Does it even want anything or am I just that combustible on the inside?

I guess, the heart wants what it wants.

Walks

Cold Nights are what we are.
Gentle breezes with the chill,
Brittle leaves on the window sill and
The warmth of memories.

Cobbled streets are what we are.
Gentle blocks pressed in,
Brittle sounds of our footsteps and
The warmth of their imprint.

Streetlights are what we are.
Gentle fog in their light,
Brittle shade trying to seep in and
The warmth of their yellow light.

Trees are what we are.
Gentle sway of life,
Brittle rustling of their branches and
The warmth of their smell.

Park benches are what we are.
Gentle curves of wood,
Brittle, rusted nails and
The warmth of our embrace.

The Night Sky is what we are.
Gentle movement of the clouds,
Brittle twinkle in the stars and
The warmth in their magic.

A walk is what we are.
Gentle movement of your hand in my hand,
Brittle sparks around us and
The warmth of being what we are.

Crystal Palace

They call it butterflies, they call it butterfingers, they call it tickles, they call it a lot of other things;
none of which fit.

I will call it a crystal which
Carved itself into a Palace.
I will call it a crystal which
Bluffs itself to be a diamond.
I will call it a crystal which
Only You made it to be.
I will call it magic which
Only you cast on me.

Tens & Hundreds of people populate my Life.

Look outside this Palace,
Citadel after Citadel,
They stay there.

Look back inside,
You will find me & You &
Nobody else.

It stand tall, this Palace, all so daunting and all so shimmering. Yet, there is nothing more delicate.

My heart is a Crystal Palace, and
You are its Queen.

Safety Valve

Dear Future-me,

I think you will remember this day I am going to tell you about. It was February 2nd, 2016. You went flat-hunting! You walked a road which you frequently visited in your first two semesters. Remember that shady road on that chilly night? When you were walking on this road, a thought struck your mind like a clock striking twelve. The needles of space and mind came together, perfectly. You remembered those times in which you used to frequent the road, you remembered everything that happened, everyone you met there- You know, as much as you think your memory is in ruins, as much as you think that nostalgia is a thing of the past to you, it's not true. You know the truth. I think you should accept it (I hope you remember that the very instant you wrote this, you accepted this to be true). Our fanaticism with 'Doctor Who,' perhaps, brought about this thought. I don't know how old you are, right now, but, I am 19, Future-me. We were 17 when we came to this place. One and a half versions of us shared the wind with this place. I am 19, now, and I thought of our 17th and 18th. I thought about everything that had happened in those two years. I went through so much! We went through so much- so much to even comprehend or remember. We went through the tiniest of things as well as cataclysmic happenings. I-we- felt that if I had met 17 or 18, there, he would have simply raised an eyebrow in appreciation, shock and cluelessness.

I don't know how many years after 19 you will read this. Only time will tell how it will shape me. Only you can tell me how it has shaped you. But, I  know that if not straight up, deep down, you are still me. I know that 16, 17, 18 and 19 are not people you will let go. And by some calamity, if you forget what they were, I hope this letter will remind you. Anyway, I know that my future, like every other, is filled with fractures which will distort it. I know that time can alter me. I hope that this letter will remind you of what not to be. Future-me, I want you to remember certain things, because you have stored your soul in them.

I want you to remember that you have made promises to people you hold most dear. I want you to remember every promise that you have made to them. I want you to remember that you must keep them at any cost. I want you to remember that these are not just any promises, but promises on which others have built parts of their future on. You matter to them and you keeping your promise matters to them. Do not forget!

I want you to remember the people in your life: those people who have shaped you. I want you to remember why you are the way you are. At 19, I remember every single person and every single memory I share with them that has made me what I am. Only then will you know where you went wrong, if you did. I want you to remember that people deserve second chances. We know the value of second chances. In case you forgot, remember every black day that ever stopped us in our path and made us realise their worth.

I want you to remember everything that you have accomplished. Being me, being our former selves,  we have accomplished so much. I know that this does not mean much to you. But, think of everything and everyone you have gained. Remember that my last day brought you something so dear that you swore to never let it go; just because it was infinitesimally magical. Remember that 18 lost someone very dear. Remember that you understood that the colours you lost can be remade with the colours you have. Remember that you did things you never thought were doable by our stupid, younger selves. Remember that we trashed doubt.

I want you to remember that your motive in life is to make others feel at home. Remember that you have always wanted to add a bright spark to others' lives. I want you to remember why you wanted to be that.

I want you to remember that your way of life is defined by Geronimo and Allons-Y! Remember that thinking twice before jumping is not you! Remember that you always gave it one thought. Remember that your insanity, quirkiness and childishness are what made you who you are. Oh, also! Don't let go of that Drama Queen! Our friend once told 18 that one of the better parts about him was that he didn't bother about people caring to hear what he said; he just spoke what he wanted to. I falter, now and then, but, I'm working towards not losing that. She was a nice addition to our story, wasn't she?
Remember that the amount of confidence you have in yourself is what you want it to be! Remember that the people you consider most dear will not let you hit the ground! These hands will always catch you!

I want you to remember when you believed that happiness lies in the small things, like the tiny packs of chocolate wrapped in shining foil, kiwis and raindrops, stories and memories and every single thing that you fell in love with. I want you to remember the last Rice Krispie you stored in your cupboard because it meant so much to you!

More than anything, I want you to remember that you have written your story. You have written this letter. You have entrusted my future with me through this letter. I am honoured. Everything said and done, these have been the most memorable parts of your life! When you read this letter, you may become someone I will not recognise. But, you will recognize your old favourites.

I will not say that you will never need a reminder of all this. I bid this to be your safety valve; something that will stop you from returning to being someone we chose not to. But, you know what? I know that my future is in safe hands! Just make sure you don't lose them!

Yours lovingly,
19.