I will be there.

When the alley of darkness blurs your vision,
and the roads that seemed familiar give nothing but, false directions,

When the people who meant the world grow apart,
and the fallacy of forevers hit you hard,

When you fail to mask that melancholy and break down,
as your eyes turn russet from brown;
with no shoulder to cry upon,

When dreams die a slow death and nightmares turn surreal,
making it all complex to contemplate
if it's happening for real,

When you try to voice yourself but, your scatterted thoughts lose its meaning
and you end conversations mid-way, trembling, fumbling,

When you scream for validation,
crave for attention
but, instead get lessons on existential crisis and how adulting demands perfection,

When you look in the mirror and the reflection is nowhere close to you,
and you realise it's time to bid adieu,

Wait.
Even if giving up seems the only way, wait.
I will be there. It's never too late.

Maybe with a hot cup of coffee or your favorite black forest ice cream,
We will sort the mess out like a team,
It's okay if you don't wish to talk.
We can sit in silence or go out for a walk.

I shall even quote your favorite book "The fault in our stars",
and remind you how Augustus Waters said "pain demands to be felt" which, you bravely have faced so far,

Remember how "okay was your always"? So, just hang in there. It's just a phase.

You will be okay,
and even if you are not, I will be there, listening to your silences while you fight your demons, every day.

I will be there. I will be there.

© Sheerin Naz.

For the love of terraces and everything dark.

As I take long, slow walks by the terrace, the sudden ushering of the wind induces my heart with warmth, which otherwise remains as cold as a chilly, December night. The soothing breeze untangles my messed up hair as if trying to fix the mess that my life has become. This terrace has been my happy place since years. Maybe not happy but, definitely a place where I find solitude and solace from the chaos of the world willing to judge me every single moment. I let them judge me, their validation doesn’t matter to me at all. I have long come out of the shell that yearned to get appreciated for all the little efforts I put in to make everything and everyone around me better. Not that I have stopped putting efforts but, yes I don’t expect anything more. So, as long as judging me makes them happy, they are free to do it all day long. Three cheers for their shallowness. I smile as I contemplate about life and everything in general. My scattered thoughts fail to find any meaning. I try too hard to fit amidst the familiar faces that look like absolute strangers to me. Oh, well, didn’t I just contradict myself? Yes, I did. That’s how I am. Complicated and full of paradoxes.

I am still walking. It’s weird how this terrace understands me so well when people around me fail to do so. It’s a place where my existence matters. It’s a place where I am not just another face in the crowd. A place where melancholy can comfortably find its place in my big brown eyes as I share stories that break my heart, one moment  at a time. The silence here is soothing. I feel like home here. I wonder how people call those four walls a home when the chaos of those walls is deafening at times, surpassing those silent screams that remain irrevocably unheard, always. I take a deep breath and observe everything around. The sky has turned crimson and the beautiful sunset is a sight to behold. I close my eyes for a while and suddenly it's pitch dark, everywhere. I realise I have kept my eyes closed a little too longer. Maybe I was lost in some parallel world where life was still happy and all sorted. I feel tired. The burden of unfathomable emotions is too heavy for my soul to carry, perhaps. I lean on the railing that surrounds the terrace. My skin touches its rusty base, making me realise how it has worn out over the years yet, has been standing tall, supporting me every time I fall or think of falling.

I smile a little more this time, a genuine one. It’s not a very happy smile but, it isn’t a sad smile either. I feel at peace as the sky illuminates with stars having a little rendezvous with the dark. The thought that light always finds its way through darkness gives me hope that I would survive all the storms that come my way, no matter what. Well, there is a reason I love being on terraces, it never lets me down. In fact, the world seems much more pretty from up here. I try looking as far as possible. The whole city is sparkling with lights. I start walking again, wondering that if at all, somewhere, someone just like me would be fighting his/her demons on a terrace while trying to find the meaning of life. I think, there are a lot of souls like me, giving up on life, every moment yet learning the art of survival and rising like a phoenix every single day. We might be a little lost, a little scared, a little messed up but, we definitely aren’t here to quit. Not today, not tomorrow, never ever!

And, for all those moments when the heart breaks a little too much or the complexities of life tears me up, I have my terrace to shed my inhibitions as I walk past my fears along those long, slow walks by the terrace, one step at a time.

© Sheerin Naz.

Reach out.

When the darkness starts creeping in a little too much and the walls of your room seems caving in, reach out to me. I will be standing right there, smiling.

Relax, I won't judge you. You even won't hear comforting words like "you will be fine", for, I know it's a constant struggle that you go through every day. But, hey, I will listen and help you cope up with your fears, one thought at a time. Just reach out to me, okay?

© Sheerin Naz.

A writer's melancholy.

They say "you writers make melancholy look beautiful".

"What if that's the only way we know to survive?"

I want to speak my heart out, but I stop mid-way. A faded smile comes on my face.

But, hey! I can always write, can't I?

© Sheerin Naz.

I wonder!

And, I wonder if by any means you knew I was breaking, one moment at a time, would you come and hold my broken pieces or just sit back and see me die, a slow death?

© Sheerin Naz.

Sunsets.

And, if at all, you ever bid me adieu, do it at the sunset. For, I will be happy in the delusion of finding you again amidst a sunset, someday. After all, sunsets give hope of a new day, new life, don't they?

Till then, I will look for you in every sunset, believing that somewhere in another corner of the world, you are doing the same.

© Sheerin Naz.

High on dreams.

And, someday, after years of melancholy, I will find you somewhere standing on that road again, where we had parted ways and drifted to never come back. You would be smiling and so would I - and, suddenly, all those years of bitterness would melt while we look at the sunset and share comfortable silences. For, that's how it was meant to be, always.

© Sheerin Naz.

Autumn is here.

As the sky turns crimson, I stare at the sunset. It's end of the day again. A tiring and exhausting day of what all has gone and what all is about to come - the chaos in my heart belittles me but, the beauty of sunset calms me down. Maybe a new day awaits my existence. Maybe the autumn is somewhere near - the falling leaves are here to bring the change. And, my dreams are about to come true. Miracles happen, don't they?

© Sheerin Naz.

Found my omen.

As I sit in silence and see myself giving up on life and everything around, a sudden nostalgia hits me hard. Lots and lots of flashbacks come out of nowhere. I see the remniscenses of my chirpy smiles and careless laughters smiling back at me. "You were such a happy person. When did you lose yourself?" My inner voice  has a lot to ask today, I guess. Have I really lost myself? Probably yes. Maybe life happened a little too fast or the struggles surrounded me a bit too much. But, isn't life supposed to be that way? Complicated and unfair.

I smirk at the paradoxes and contradictions of my thoughts and look at the sky, the stars seem to be embracing the night completely. I wonder how the darkness of the night doesn't intrigue the stars while it illuminates the whole world. "This could be your omen". I could hear my inner voice once again. Maybe, this is what I need to do. Embrace my struggles and rise up with every fall. This very thought made me smille. Yes. This is my omen. I can't and I won't give up on life. I can't just wait for a miracle, I need to make it happen. My destination is some where close and I will figure it out as life goes.

And, yes, I haven't stopped smiling since a while. My inner voice is at peace too. Feels good, ya!

© Sheerin Naz.

C'est la vie.

I have often been told "you have changed a lot". "For all the good reasons". I add. Maybe, they don't think so. People judge real quick, don't they? They notice the change but, fail to see the years of pain I endured behind that pretty smile. They judge me for enjoying my solitude but, never held my hand when I was lonely. They smirk at my love for books and fictional characters, but were nowhere to be found when I needed company. They complain about my indifference, but had walked away when their words could actually make a difference.

It took me days, months and years to endure self-love and rise with every fall. And, you tell me I have changed? Well, I don't mind. It's okay because your validation doesn't matter anymore.

C'est la vie!

© Sheerin Naz.

It's always good to be alive.

And, there comes a day when you give up on life, but life doesn't give up on you. Be grateful to such days for, these are blessings in disguise. Years later, when you shall be busy counting your happiness, a sudden reminiscence of that vulnerable day will hit you hard and the realization that life didn't let you give up at your weakest moment will induce you with solace. 

What if life didn't give you that second chance? What if your vulnerabilty carved your way towards oblivion? Wouldn't you miss out a lot in life?

No matter how tough life might seem, cling to your hope, hold on, fight and struggle your way through out. Remember, it's always good to be alive!

© Sheerin Naz.

Heal, survive and be alive.

There is something insanely beautiful about the broken people.They could be the saddest person in the entire world yet, the melancholy fails to belittle their smile. For, damaged people know how important is to heal, survive and be alive! And, survivors are beautiful, aren't they?

© Sheerin Naz.

Storms are beautiful too.

"A cup of hot coffee and a profound book for company, what else can a bibliophile ask for? Rains, maybe?"

I have been sitting in the balcony since a little while, hooked on "The fault in our stars", a book I love dearly. My heart skips a beat as I come closer to the page where Augustus Waters, my favorite protagonist gets lost in oblivion. I know it's going to break my heart the umpteenth time. Nevermind, I truly believe in the words of Augustus Waters; "it's a privilege to get my heartbroken by you". I witness his painfully beautiful death yet again. Irony at its best, isn't it? Can death be beautiful? It indeed can, if you get to make memories of a lifetime within a numbered days. This is what Augustus Waters says. And, I love him a little too much not to believe him. Okay. Don't give me that look. I know he is fictional but, that doesn't belittle my love for him.

I am still grieving the loss of my favorite fictional character, when the rain starts pouring down. Maybe the melancholy of my heart reached the sky and it sent rain to give me solace. I keep the book aside and try to witness the serenity around. I see people enjoying the mild rain shower. Few children are busy weaving their dreams while they sail their beautifully carved paper boats. A look towards the sky and I can see a rainbow too. A colorful streak in the otherwise blue sky. A beautiful sight to behold! The nature seems to be inducing colors in its canvas. But, I guess I was wrong. The natures looks in a mood of painting it all black. The mild shower is transforming into heavy rain. The clouds can be seen ushering the storms. I am still in awe of the nature. However, things seem to be different all around. The sounds of the abrupt shut down of doors and windows is quite audible. Children are rushing inside. The roads suddenly seem deserted. The paper boats are drowning as if dying a slow death.

It's sad yet overwhelming. We embrace the rainbow but, abandon the storm. We love the rain but, despise the thunder. I smirk at the convenient adaptation of people. Why happiness is necessary all the time? Why can't sadness be embraced profoundly? Why can't we value storms as much as we love rainbow? If rainbow makes you smile, storms make you stronger. Why not value them equally? Neither you can be happy always, nor sad. So, why not honor them both?

The thundering hasn't stopped yet. The rain seems on a marathon. I find a certain kind of melancholy in the way rain falls during storms. There's no one to adore the otherwise loved rain. Nevertheless, I stand right here in my balcony while the storm drenches me completely. My eyes are closed but, I can feel it quenching my soul as it mends my broken heart, one moment at a time. And, all I can do is smile, smile and smile some more.

I think it's time to get some edits done, isn't it? Well, here you go!

"A cup of hot coffee and a profound book for company, what else can a bibliophile ask for? storms, maybe?"

© Sheerin Naz.

Just a day.

I have often heard people saying "have a good day". I wonder why is it necessary to have a good day? Why can't I have "just a day"?

There are days when I am sad, the world comes crashing down. Those days when I hold myself tight yet fail to keep my broken pieces intact. On days like this, all I wish to survive and exist for an another day, when things will fall in place and my existence will matter. Those days are definitely not good.

There are days when life just goes on. I find myself lost amidst the chaotic mess that surrounds me. On days like these, the monotonous life makes me forget my identity. Those days aren't good either.

Also, there are days when I feel like painting the town red. Happiness shines bright within my brown eyes. I get into profound conversations and reflect upon the blessings I have. I can be seen having a gala time amidst chirpy laughters and quirky smiles. Can these days be called good? No. Because, they are downright amazing!

You see, how days can be sad, normal, good, happy, amazing and horrible (feel free to add more adjectives) for different people at different moment? So, instead of stereotyping people with "have a good day", allow them to have "just a day". Let them figure out what they want their day to be. Fair enough, isn't it?

Anyway, have a good day. Oops I mean "have a day". Don't give up. Okay?

© Sheerin Naz.

Be you.

So, is it been a while you have been yourself? Trying too hard to fit in the crowd, eh? Ripping your soul apart while proving your worth to the world? Wait. Calm down. Relax and think,

"Is it necessary to be in everyone's good book"?
"Do you require to please everyone when your heart is breaking a little too much?"
"Does your sadness needs to be disguised beside that smile?"

Certainly not.

You're not here to prove your worthiness to the world. It's okay if people do not like you for what you are. It's okay if you despise crowd and being solitary is your idea of happiness. It's okay to cry your heart out and not camouflage your melancholy with a forced smile. It's okay. It's all okay.

Stop caring for people who hardly acknowledge your existence.
Stop valuing memories which no longer hold any meaning.
Stop being selfless when the world tries to hurt you hard. Stop it, for once and all.

Instead, find yourself. Enjoy your solitude. Exist. Survive. Rise.

And, one fine day you will see how your constant quest with life finds a meaning and how you meet the right kind of people who will appreciate you for being real, being unapologetic, embracing self-love and most importantly, being yourself.

In a world where everything is judged amidst the paramater of black and white, dare to be grey, be you! :)

© Sheerin Naz.

वो माँ हैं।

मेरे आँसु को भी मुस्कुराहट में तब्दील कर देतीं,
वो माँ हैं, मैंने बेइंतिहा ग़म में भी उन्हें कभी मायूस नही देखा।

मेरी नाकामियों पर भी मुझसे नाउम्मीद नही होतीं,
वो माँ हैं, मैंने ज़िन्दगी की आज़माइश में उन्हें कभी थकते नहीं देखा।

मेरी नासमझ नाराज़गी पर भी मुझसे कभी ख़फ़ा नहीं होतीं,
वो माँ हैं, मैंने दिल टूटने पर भी उन्हें कभी शिकायत करते नहीं देखा।

मेरी हल्की सी ख़रोंच पे भी परेशां हो जातीं,
वो माँ हैं, मैंने बेहद दर्द में भी उन्हें कभी रोते नहीं देखा।

मेरे खवाबों को अपनी ज़िंदगी का मक़सद बनातीं,
वो माँ हैं, मैंने ख़ुद के लिए उन्हें कभी कोई ख़्वाहिश करते नहीं देखा।

वो माँ हैं.....

© Sheerin Naz.

अक्सर याद आती हैं।

अक्सर याद आती हैं अपने शहर की वो बेतरतीब गलियां,
जहां कहानियां हज़ार है दोस्तों से मुलाकात की,
कुछ कर गुजरने की जज़्बात की।

अक्सर याद आती हैं अपने शहर की वो बेतरतीब गलियां,
जहां ख्वाबों का आगाज़ हुआ,
ख़्वाहिशों का परवाज़ हुआ।

अक्सर याद आती हैं अपने शहर की वो बेतरतीब गलियां,
जहां कभी खुद को खो के भी ढूंढ लिया था,
और ज़ार ज़ार रो के भी हंस लिया था।

अक्सर याद आती हैं अपने शहर की वो बेतरतीब गलियां,
जहां मौके थोड़े कम ज़रूर, लेकिन रास्ते बेशुमार थे,
मंज़िल की जुस्तुजू भी थी, और हौसले बेअख्तियार थे।

अक्सर याद आती हैं अपने शहर की वो बेतरतीब गलियां,
जहां दिलों में कोई ख़ौफ़ न था,
नफरोतों का कोई दौड़ न था।

अक्सर याद आती हैं अपने शहर की वो बेतरतीब गलियां,
जो उस बड़े शहर की बुलंदी तक तो ले गयी,
लेकिन, ख़ुद कहीं पीछे रह गयी।

© शीरीं नाज़।

Just a girl.

She was just a girl who loved herself a little too much. You call her self obsessed, arrogant and rude? Maybe you were wrong at judging her so quick. For, you saw only what she portrayed.

You didn't notice her long, slow walks by the beach where her silence did all the talking. You didn't notice how she smiled and entangled her hair while getting lost with the ushering wind. You didn't notice how she walked past the garden, stopping once in a while to reflect on the beauty of the nature. You didn't notice how she loved her coffee while enjoying the rainy days by her window side. You didn't notice how she burst out laughing while playing with random kids in the corridor. You didn't notice how she smiled through tears when melancholy hit her hard. You didn't notice how she picked up her broken pieces everyday and stood intact. Your didn't notice the million stories her brown eyes were yearning to speak. You didn't notice her at all.

Her story was much more than you could ever know and, much deeper than your imagination.

Still willing to judge her?

Well, nevermind!

© Sheerin Naz.

Goodbyes are beautiful.

I have often been advised to “let go” the person, memories and moments that once were a profound part of my life, but are just a part of my prose and poetry now. However, I fail to agree with the concept of “letting go”. I can't just break all ties and move ahead. Goodbyes work better for me. If you wish to leave, don't tell me to “let go”, just smile and bid adieu.

You ask me “What's the difference?” Well, letting go closes all the doors. Once you let go, you give up on that person. You no longer wish to keep a track of their whereabouts. You get okay with their non-existence. You see them after years out of nowhere and walk past, denying their presence, making it all bitter and cold. And, this the last thing I would ever wish to do. Goodbyes are my thing. It lets you cling to an unfathomable hope. The hope of accidentally bumping into you in the middle of the road, few years down the line and sharing a warm smile while reminiscing the good old days. And, not to forget to steal occasional glances of each other. So, you see, goodbyes are heartbreaking yet beautiful, letting go isn't.

© Sheerin Naz.

Perfect misfit.

I have never been the person who fits in the crowd. I look around and observe everyone. People lost in conversations, everywhere. Some talk about life, some share their dreams and some have their opinions on almost everything. I find nothing profound in these conversations. They seem in a hurry to prove some point. Everyone is talking, but sadly no one listens. I smile as I drift away silently from this "I know it all" crowd. Nobody really notices my absence. I am glad they don't. I don't belong here. I never did.

I am more of a "let's get into a soul stirring conversation and know each other" and less of a "let's be social because that's how it works" person. I am a perfect misfit in this imperfect world and, could I be anymore happier? Certainly not.

© Sheerin Naz.