Beete Lamhe..

Beethoven once said that Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life. I would like to add that it is also a painful reminder of the past that we refuse to let go. Music has this therapeutic quality to it. It can uplift your mood or walk you to mellow street.

Dard mein bhi yeh lab muskura jaate hai
Beete lamhein humein jab bhi yaad aate hai

Even today when I hear music with lyrics that bleed within my old wounds, it evokes pain, suffering and extreme sadness. I can go from a super duper hue to a depressing blue. The good times feel terrible, the moments that I own the copyright to, feel pirated.

Teri aagosh mein din the mere kate
Teri baaahon mein thi mere raatien kati

What is it about music that does this? And why? I don't know why people listen to sad songs when they are already at an all time low? I don't understand why people listen to sad songs at all. I tried not listening to songs that connected my painful past to me;I tried evading every sonata, every melody, every rhythm, every lyric and I was foolish enough to think that it would be the end.

Aake mere panaho mein shaam-o-seher
Kanch ki trah woh tut jana tera

I thought that music cleanses the understanding; inspires it, and lifts it into a realm which it would not reach if it were left to itself; I was so wrong, so terribly wrong....

Dard mein bhi yeh lab muskura jaate hai
Beete lamhein humein jab bhi yaad aate hai

Sleeping with the Enemy

I received a nasty SMS this week; one that proclaimed "Goodbye" in a tone loud enough to wake the deceased. It was a nasty SMS that did not even warrant a reply.

I call it nasty simply because I feel that the people who hurt you the most are the ones you love or care about. We empower our loved ones with secrets about our weaknesses and throw open old wounds for them to see. Soon, they choose an arsenal of jagged words extremely carefully and attack those very wounds that go deep. In short, they hit where it hurts.

I had promised myself that I would not respond to self-indulgent behavior but my boiling blood always seems to get the better of me. The enemy appeals to the juvenile in me, tempting me onto the battlefield. I have sworn to NEVER entertain immaturity and its friendly neighborhood “misgiving”. But I'm under attack from Operation "Assume, Presume and Fire" and I have to figure out whether to retaliate or run for cover where I will be out of range.

I've been through this war in the past and I have run out of ammunition, energy and inclination to go through the mental and physical trauma again but my enemy refuses to let me out of sight, finds me, rears its ugly head and spits it venomous spew right in my face and I am forced to retaliate for fear my own life and sanity. It’s a survival instinct.

Often, things are not what they seem and there have been times when I have not even believed my own eyes because of my blind trust in the enemies’ friendly gestures. I've always been fooled and betrayed and now I walk around with a knife protruding from my lower back. I do not wish to justify my survival strategy. Honestly, I don't care. But sometimes the enemy manages to shake and annihilate the very fighting spirit that they armour me with in the first place.

It's like the US training Osama. Big Mistake! But whose loss is it really?

Perhaps it is my destiny to be hurt by the enemy or maybe I'm just smart enough to win a battle, because I always loose the war.