My crude crude world

    Midnight thoughts & thunders

     〈serial soliloquies〉


 I’m crude. I say the wrong things at times and I don’t adhere to common courtesy if it falls out of my frame. My edges are jagged, my core raw. I’m naïve and narrow-minded at times. I’m spoilt,impatient and lackadaisical. There’s no twist, no ‘but’s. That’s the crude part of me; the underdeveloped. But I love it. After smoothing the hem of my mask for pretty much my entire life, I realized not too long ago that even though things looked super sleek on the surface, my true nature remained intact beneath. So whilst I was ironing out the wrinkles, my true self lay beneath seared by the steam.

My goal is to retrace my steps to who I was when I was 6 years old. I don’t know why exactly, but I sense that’s before I was tainted.

I want to be silly and ask all the questions I’ve been raring to ask, but didn’t for fear of being ridiculed. I want to follow my curiosity as if it were a butterfly even though I might seem confused and erratic to others. I want to love madly and deeply and authentically without any undertone of pathological need or expectations for reciprocation. I want to venture into the unknown with lofty and colourful hopes despite the risk of rejection. I want to risk rejection. I want to feel the bad so I can feel the good. I want to be vulnerable and not be defined by the bad that happened to me but by the good with which I responded.


I abdicate

“Live no longer to the expectation of these deceived and deceiving people with whom we converse.

Say to them; O father, O mother, O wife, O brother, O friend, I have lived with you after appearances hitherto. Henceforward I am the truth’s. Be it known unto you that henceforward I obey no law less than the eternal law. I will have no covenants but proximities. I shall endeavor to nourish my parents, to nourish my family, to be the chaste husband of one wife, – but these relations I must fill after a new and unprecedented way. I appeal from your customs. I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you, or you. If you can love me for what I am, we shall be the happier. If you cannot, I will still seek to deserve that you should. I will not hide my tastes or aversions. I will so trust that what is deep is holy, that I will strongly believe before the sun and moon whatever inly rejoices me, and the heart appoints. If you are noble, I will love you; if you are not, I will not hurt you and myself by hypocritical attentions. If you are true, but not in the same truth with me, cleave to your companions; I will seek my own. I do this not selfishly, but humbly and truly. It is alike your interest, and mine, and all men’s, however long we have dwelt in lies, to live in truth. Does this sound harsh to-day? You will soon love what is dictated by your nature as well as mine, and, if we follow the truth, it will bring us out safe at last. — But so you may give these friends pain. Yes, but I cannot sell my liberty and my power, to save their sensibility.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m rather cagey

I’ve noticed the incessant urge people have to label me, to label anyone really. It’s as if the words they assign me would contain me and tame me, perhaps reduce their fear of the unknown.



-the eccentric one

Every label has some hue to it. I’m painted with it even before an introduction and for a long while I felt trapped by these brands. I felt the need to be placed in the ‘right’ category. Appease,please,compromise. I bent over backwards to squeeze myself into a fanciful label.

Two years ago I underwent an extensive Maskectomy. Now for the scientifically challenged, maskectomy is the removal of one’s mask which was invented by yours truly 🙂 . Instead of trying to pigeon-hole myself, I embraced all the different sides of me – the weird,the weirder, the good.


That’s when I realized – the labels that people assign me have nothing to do with me, and everything to do with them. Those who peer behind their self-imposed labels,boxes and masks . The labelling is for their convenience, because they can’t be without a label and thus can’t see without one. It threatens their very existence.

Now, my staunch rebellion scares them. When they realize I’m a label-less one, they scurry off to their hiding places. Which I’m cool with ,by the way. Because I like staying out after midnight. I like the blanket of darkness that covers me as I lay down in the grass, stargazing. I don’t mind the grass stains on my black jilbaab , and my loyal Vans are made for mud.If you want to hang, I’m cool with that too. But please, remain quiet and listen intently. Haven’t you been told that it’s rude to talk while the stars are telling their stories?




Price of freedom

My childhood was riddled with a forceful drive for curiosity. While other children played, I sat still in solitude, observing. This disturbed the adults around me in my daycare and later on pre-school, informing my parents in a bid to make me ‘normal’ like an ‘ordinary’ child. Had they asked me what I was thinking about, I would have told them that at age 4 I was thinking about my reason for existence, repeating over and over again ‘ why am I here‘ in my head with such intensity, circulating the coffee table in the living room, it made me scared and dizzy.

Continue Reading

True Lies

Facing the truth and keeping my head up from submerging in waters of lies once again, is , well torturing to say the least. Acknowledging the reality of a situation is like being showered with ice cold water on a December morning,like stepping on a pool of water that drench your socks- it’s easier to just close your eyes and lull yourself into an alternative reality. Easier but also fatal. The biggest and worst lie is the one you convince yourself of. While it might offer temporary relief,it’ll put you in a maze of lies so hard to get out of , the lies become your truth. The lies end up becoming you,like having a a costume etched into your skin. You lose yourself, all in the name of what? I dunno,I forgot.

No more posts.