One of those days

​Its just one of those days where I think of bad touch while running from the good. My body demands to be held and my soul is tired of saying no, and I am growing so tired of chasing tarot. I am making candles, I am making temples. And yet this existence feels hollowed out, miserable. 

The summer heat on my back has my insides in its palms. I like heat. I like water. And I like you. And I understand that sometimes you do not exist.

It’s just one of those days.

In Hindi there’s a song that goes 

“Aaj agar bhar aayi hein, boondein baras jayengi. Kal kya pata, kinke liye aankhein taras jayengi.”

The fact that we all understand it. The way it feels. The aankhon ka tarasna side effect of human emotions. How it aches , how it aches, oh how it sings and how it stings.

I can feel it physically in my body sometimes, the ache to see someone. Tears are countless and ready, and impatient and greedy; I was given the gift of sight to behold you.

It’s just one of those days. 

Something about absences hits hard.

The other day someone said that you never know when you’re doing something for the very last time. For as long as you live, you will never do it again. 

I know now what I’ve done wrong when I went about my way, when I left the world behind to say I didn’t need anyone. It’s hollowed me out this life. Living without people in it. I always think I need to make something of this life so I can tell myself a grand story when I’m dying and I keep thinking I just haven’t done enough epic things to make it an interesting one.

But today I understand. I understand it’s because I was not paying attention.

This story would be a grand one nonetheless even if I never become someone grand. I will pluck little moments and treasure them in my chest. In my hearts or hearts, in the corridors behind my eyes, I will know. I will have a shrine. A palace. Atlantis. A galaxy. I will live. Through small moments, through little joys. 

Do I curl up in prayer, do I curl up and whisper god’s name like a scared little kid hiding from his  worst fears unknown to the fact that they are within him? Both his fears and his God.

My God comes in many colors.