Thursday, September 3, 2015

Pursuit of happines


To the well organized minds, everything bothers them.
When you're at dismay, they'll ask questions, when you're happy, they won't buy it.
These minds, they're constantly looking to solve problem even when it wasn't even there.

I hated it. Maybe it's because I used to possessed that sort of thinking. Used to.
Or perhaps maybe it's the unfortunate fact that sometimes, people just don't want to be cured and don't want to be disturbed.

Great minds think alike? maybe so. But sadly, great mind, annoys people too. Particularly to the damaged ones

And unsurprisingly enough,
the inevitable, ultimate million dollar question came to me, from every directions.

"ikram, are you okay?"

Sigh.

ever think of how selfish that question sounds?
because 99% of those who asked, had already know the answer.

Now I know a thing or two about manners.
I'm not going to whine on how broken I am to a wonderfully constructed question of which I am sure filled with genuine concern about me, so, here it goes

*smile*

I'm fine.

*ikram, remember to smile*

honestly though, I. Am. Fine.

:))))


But "feeling fine" is such a massive phrase that I believe one can decide its meaning with his own words and his own descriptions. Assuming we define it with the ordinary definition, despite its glorious reputation, feeling fine is utterly boring and quiet frankly overrated

Feeling nothing, on the other hand, is a darling.
Such an underrated emotion.
It is the one true definition of feeling fine.
Empty, nothing, is my fine

I am terribly, horribly, feeling empty at the moment.

So in answering that famous old question again,

"Ikram, are you okay?"

Yes,
I'm okay.
I am perfectly fine.
I am just, not happy






Sunday, May 3, 2015

The art of deception


The beauty of instagram is,
you post a picture of you having fun,
with silly stupid caption,
then everyone will think you're happy.

With twitter,
you write about your bizarre opinions,
and joke about almost everything,
people will think you're doing okay.

With your friends,
you need to fake a big loud laugh,
and make sure your giggling mask don't falls off,
soon they'll assume that you're having a great time.

This is the art of deception.
I continued on deceiving people and wondering when will I ever get tired of this.

Ah,
I've heard a funny story once,

A man goes to a doctor,
Says he's depressed,
Says life seems harsh and cruel,
Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain.

The doctor says,
"the treatment is simple",
"A great clown named Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should cheer you up".

The man burst into tears,

"but doctor",
"I am Pagliacci".


Good joke. Everybody laughs. Roll on snare drum










It must be nice




I missed the days where I would wake up in the morning to the smell of my umi's cooking.
I remember walking down the stairs, still half asleep, expecting delicious meal to be on the table.
Being the lovely mom she was, she would ask me to eat first while she cleans the kitchen, and being an ungrateful son I am, I would gladly take a seat without even helping her. And on that table, are nothing but my favorite foods.

The thing about my umi is that she knows what I like and what I don't like. I love chicken rice, so she'll make sure to serve them at least once a month. I hate curry, so she won't make curry as our main meal ever. It's nice having a person who knows what you prefer, even if it was a simple thing as your appetite.

When she's gone, Wallahi it hurts.
I struggled to live. Everything is so dark and I honestly want to die. It didn't take long for me to realise that she was part of the air that I breathe in every second of my life. Everyone tried to cheer me up and inspire me with their words but deep down I know how damaged I am. I'm broken. They can't fix me now. "Ikram, hey, I know how you feel". "I understand you". Man, these people. they have no idea what it feels like. Not even a clue.

Wallahi it hurts,
And up until now, nothing has changed. You see, my family is not the type to hold hands and talk about feelings or have a group hug after a dinner. Heck, we don't even eat on the same table.
My brothers?
One of them is too busy wasting my dad's money and the other only came home once every two months.
My sister?
She is studying in a boarding school, and I can't look at her without hating the way she used to disrespect umi every time they talk. Even after umi's death, I just wanted to see a sign of regret from my sister but it never came.
And as for my dad,
heh, well, he didn't even cry the day my mum's gone so what's more to say about him.
Each of us is suffering, but as I said before, I'm not expecting a group hug from them anytime soon.

Wallahi it hurts,
I tried so hard to continue on living.
And only yesterday, my dad brought me lunch to home so we could eat together.
It was curry.
Hahaha.
I can't stop myself from laughing.
It's not because I hate the food,
It's not that I despise my dad for buying food that I don't like.
It's because I realise that there's no one else anymore who knows about my appetite.

You see, the reason you have "favorite food" is because someone actually cares.
Truthfully, I'm not sure what's my favorite food anymore
It must be nice having a person who knows what you prefer, even if it was a simple thing as your appetite,
 don't you think?











Thursday, April 2, 2015

The fearless little boy

This is the story of a fearless little boy,
who thought that he was destined for something big,
and he would one day be the hero,
who slays the big bad dragon.

A boy who made a promise to his mom,
his sweet beautiful mom,
comes hell or high water,
he will definitely,
unequivocally,
change the world,
without ever losing himself.

A fearless one he was called,
as he spent his whole days,
talking about the future,
as if he even had a clue,
with that chubby glimmering face.

Every folks in town would sing his name,
as they come marching towards him,
to inquire his piece of mind,
about their own personal concerns.
And the fearless little boy would reassure them,
as he had always did,
saying how bad things are only myths,
and that everything will be alright.

Years passed

The folks would gather around the boy,
still eagerly waiting,
for his great fervor of chat,
to lift their own spirit.
A comforter,
who made silly assurances,
and made everyone felt good about themselves,
with his mere words.

and nobody, had ever doubted him.
nobody,
except for the boy himself.

The fearless boy they would say.
A boy who was not supposed to be afraid of anything.
Tell a lie big and frequent enough,
and the lie will be believed.
The boy made a terrible mistake,
as he was so young and naive,
he did believed.

And as time goes by,
fate took its part,
as the universe couldn't even care less,
everything came crashing down,
along with his hopes.
along with his mom.

It all happened so fast.
As his world was torn apart,
and day by day,
it was getting rather tiring.
The moment he realised,
how he spent his whole life,
trying to help others,
while his dying heart was left unattended.
So no more promises, no more fairy tales, no more dreams.
Fearless?
it took him all these years to figure it out.
Fearless, is just another pretty word for Foolishness

Should he be a bit more fearful, it wouldn't hurt this bad.

What a foolish little boy,
who once thought that he was destined for something big,
who thought he was not afraid of losing anything.
Now when people say his name,
they will whisper how big his dream was,
and how he tragically died in his own fantasy.
This, is his untold story.