Instagram Whispers

I miss the days when Facebook used to be a park where words came
to play. When the empty noise of real life drove you crazy, you could
come and sit on a bench in this playground, watching the words
do their thing. Occasionally, you could engage with them,
but only if you wanted to. And even when you did, these words
were shy, respectful, sometimes, filled with a little mischief,
like the smile of a child who throws a snowball at you.

These words are now grown up in an evolved Facebook world.
Likewise, they are all brash and bragging, screaming and begging
for attention in an exclamation party. Shallow anecdotes make out
with 90-character trivia in a one-night-stand. Opposing worldviews
punch each other in heady bar brawls until the other bleeds
into oblivion. Meaningless, hankering for more meaninglessness.
Just like life.

Perhaps, that's why I like Instagram now. I guess, if a picture is worth
a million words, then a million pictures say a lot, without speaking
anything. That kind of quiet warmth that you get when you are inside
a tent wrapped under a dense canopy. The kind of peaceful murmuring
only trees can do. And nestled inside my tent, I can experience what
the words originally set out to be, what they were always meant to be:
comfortable solitude.

Men Don't Understand

Men don't understand that long after they leave you, they are still with you.

Men don't understand that even though you might win the world, they will always
be your world.

Men don't understand that you don't have to sleep with them to fall in love with
them.

Men don't understand that even though you are the most articulate person
in the world, you are at a loss of words when it comes to them.

Men don't understand that you would do anything, just anything to make them
happy, even if it means losing a part of yourself.
Even though, you would hate yourself for it.

And they would hate that you have changed.

Men don't understand that you spend nights crying for small things.
And the weekends too.

And you dare not tell them that you care so.

Men don't understand that it doesn't matter if it's been 5 or 10 years,
you never stop thinking about them.

Men don't understand that you cherish the smallest of their stories long after
they have ceased to remember it.

Men don't understand that you will never listen to a song that reminds you
of them, after they are gone.

And that you will hate them for ruining a perfectly good song.

They don't understand that you might not like the red roses or chocolates
or even the day of love, but your mushy heart will be bubbling with love
when they do the smallest of things for you.

They don't understand that for better or worse, your life
will never be the same again.

It’s true that they never understand, but you do, don't you?

Yet, you let this happen.

Every.single.time.