ދިވެހި އެޓެމްޓްސް ޕާޓް ތުރީ

އަނގުރު ބޯ ވާރޭ ވެހޭނެ

 

ފަސްބައިގާ ކަނި ބުރާނެ

 

އެހެނަސް އަނދައެއް ނުދާނެ

 

ނެތި ބިރު ކުރިއަށް ހިނގާނެ

 

މަގުންނެ ހިނގާ ފިނި ދުން އަރާ

 

މޫނުގެ ކުލަވަރު ކަޝްފުވާ

 

ވާ ކަޅު އަނދިރި ތެރޭން

 

އަލި މި އަބަދު ފާޅުވާ

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ބުނެ ބަސް ގަދަ ނުކުރާށެ އަމުރު

 

ކަށި ބަލި ގަނޑެއް ނޫނޭ މި އަޅު

 

ލަޝްކަރަކު އަމުރު ކުރުވާ މި ރަސްކަމު

 

ނަމުގައި ވުމުންނެ ވަރުގަދަ އަޒުމު

 

ވެވި ކާމިޔާބީ ހިތުގައި މި ކަށަވަރު

 

ފަހަރުގައި ވެވި އެކި އެިކި ފަޙުރު

 

ދިރިއުޅުމާއި މި ނުކުރާށެ ޖަދަލު

 

ނަފްސަށް އަމިއްލަ ދައްކައިފީމެ ބަދަލު

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ހެވައާއި ނުބައި ވަކިކުރަން އެ އެނގުމުން

 

އިއްޒަތާއި އަރާމު ނެތުނީ އެ ބޭނުން

 

ހިތި ފިލާވަޅުތަކުން ބޭސް އެ ގޭނުން

 

ދިރި އިނދެވުނީ ލޯމެރި ހިމޭނުން

 

ރޯވެ ހިތުގައި މި ދުނިޔޭގެ ހޫނުން

 

ވިސްނަ ވިސްނާ ބަދަލުކުރީ މި ވިސްނުން

 

ލަސްނުވެ މިންޖު ދުނިޔޭގެ ވޭނުން

 

ފެނުނީ މަޑުމައިތިރި ހިނިތުން އެ މޫނުން

 

– އެޓެމްޓްސް އެޓް ރައިޓިންގް ދިވެހި – ޕާޓް ތުރީ –

Home within

I lay myself down with the cold tile floor as my bed and the open universe as my roof. I lay myself down bare, with nothing to hide and nothing to lose.

My mortal body stretched and contracted as atoms melted and flowed to become one with the surface I was resting upon, running down the side of the building to become one with the earth.

I realised I look at people with the same intense yearning as when I gaze up across the deep blue Milky Way.

I look for a place beyond the reach of the naked eye and beyond the reach of all vessels used to carry our kind into space. I search for a light that looks to bounce off me and remind me that there is a home I belong to too.

An hour passed and then another, I saw no light that would guide me home. The stars danced and frolicked from one end of the horizon, the clouds shifted and creeped across while lightening taunted from a distance.

I closed my eyes, stopped asking for answers and instead let the simplicity of being wash me over. I embraced my good and acknowledged my bad. I forgave myself for mistakes made and opened my heart to a future of possibilities. I closed my eyes and went through everything that ever made me feel so heavy, felt them at their fullest and let it go, like a dragged friendship that had become too toxic to continue.

I breathed the moment in, felt the cold night and the ocean breeze in my lungs. I kept breathing till I felt like the gentle wind could carry me away.

I accepted myself and found my home within.

#ThisIsMyCueToSleep

Metaphors

Break me down and recycle me as a metaphor, embrace me like you do the reassuring illusions.

Trace your fingers across my collar bones, seek a pulse. Lie to me, tell me the ghastly emptiness I feel is important, that feeling nothing is profound because that’s what the universe was before it exploded and created life.

Teach me to build a wall around myself and call it self love. Sugarcoat it so I remember that self love is essential if I want to stay away from things that keep me up at night. Go on in detail about how the dark night is necessary to see stars, that the dawn is proof we deserve morning. But do not mistake me for a fool, it’s the same fucking day after day. You tend to notice when you’ve lived it for weeks.

There is nothing beautiful about a short drop and a sudden stop. Nothing glorious about razor blades etching barcodes onto wrists. No satisfaction in a five course meal of pills.

But there is courage, more than I could ever muster.

If I am indeed like the universe before it explodes, tell me it aches for life;

like I do.

Me, myself and the cracked mirror

Some days I start my morning staring off into the broken mirror.

My cracked reflection and I have an honest conversation about vulnerability till we eventually decide to have the mirror replaced.

On Sunday, the sun rises bright and beautiful over the world and I wake up as an emissary on its behalf.

“The light will greet you, it will not forsake your crops, it will not forsake your loved ones, it will not forsake you.“

I drift in and out of this body over the course of the week.

I opened my eyes on Monday afternoon but I felt too light to really be me. By light I mean I was just skin poorly wrapped around a consciousness. Am I really in this rag doll?

Tuesdays I take a field trip through the universe to study gravitational collapse; apparently crucial for the creation of new structures. When I get back I find some uninhabited island in an unnamed sea and wait for an unmarked grave.

By Wednesday I’m a jaw clenched silent wreck sitting by the wall for hours on end, because when this happens I forget to use my legs and that I ever had them and my tongue knots itself. I’m three “I’m sorry but I didn’t hear you”s, five unanswered texts and ten ignored calls.

Thursday’s are for contemplating the how why’s and when’s. How are we here? Why are we here? When did it all get so messed up? Thursday’s are for cursing the inevitable end and the torturous wait in between.

Fridays I phase myself out entirely and blend in. Brush my teeth, shower, pretend to uphold the social fabric and the illusion of national unity.

On Saturday’s she pins me back to the Earth. Reminds me that there is a world in front of me that my wanderlust crazed mind might appreciate if it wasn’t away all the time. But she only exists within the space that is my bed.

#0600AM

s t a t i c

The tv blaring at full volume greets me good morning with its glitches. Pixelated blotches here and there depict its poor state. The receiver stopped working a while back but the electrically generated monotonous cry serves as background music. It keeps me from being drawn into the vacuum of silence.

You see I too struggle with reading signals. The screen shows everything tinted sunshine yellow or scarlet red, that is when it isn’t specs of grainy black dots on a bland white. I have a hard time visualizing sometimes because words and sounds don’t manifest in anything more than just that. Now I just filter everything out to a default sound that is neither the background laughter from a sitcom nor a funeral march.

I go to bed with my friends but never say I love you to the people who have successfully managed to wrap their hands around my heart. Saying three words feels more shameful and bare to me than three hours floating on someone’s naked skin. Because three words are heavy enough to make me sink into the depths of their curves and never resurface.

I feel the electric charge around an object that cannot conduct a current. I only know how the nerves at tip of my fingers tingle and tremble in the space between you and I. I like the sensation of sparks flying out from my fingers as the invisible attraction pulls me into the orbit at the gentle curve of your cheeks.

I feel like the uneasy compliance of a country craving for change yet unable to move past that first police barricade. I feel like three defunct pillars of power trying to exert power over the slow chaos eroding my mind away.

// s t a t i c

Universal meaning.

I read somewhere that light which passes too close to black holes get caught and cannot escape. Light that passes just a little bit further away from it gets bent.

I learnt that it’s not just black holes that have this effect on light. A mass big enough can cause bends in space-time which in turn curve the light traveling around it.

But when it comes to black holes, anything going slower than the speed of light gets drawn into the singularity. It gets ripped apart, and the black holes mass increases accordingly.

I still don’t quite know what reassurances I seek when I lay staring up at the sky. I think I find it comforting, knowing that I come from the heavens above. Perhaps it’s just a little bit harder to feel lonely under the watchful light of cosmic companions.

There’s comfort in the thought that I come from them; that the cold vast infinity I feel beneath my ribs echo in response to the cold vast infinity of the universe. That scattered here and there in no particular order or symmetry there’s balls of intense fire burning itself continuously making itself known from lightyears away to light up the darkest and longest of our nights. Sometimes they’re our compass, our striding archer, but more often than not they’re our best bet that tomorrow will be better than today. Hence we send back prayers on these beams of light hoping to dream visions of home.

I think what I look for most is the closure. Closure in knowing that out there in the endless heaven of celestial collisions, light bends around black holes, stars burn in on themselves, shooting stars blaze on and there are nameless planets turning cold, waiting for the warmth of life.

Because there are enough metaphors in the universe to help me come to terms with this existence.

And maybe; just maybe, there’s enough metaphors to help me come to terms with myself.

But I know it to be true, that nowhere in the universe is there any more meaning to this existence, than that which i could give it myself.

//untitled ramblings in my head that save my life on a daily basis

Emerging.

For three years straight I desperately wanted to beat my head against a wall. As if the angry voices and constant static in my head would flow out from me into the world as blood and I’d be free from it all.

But a huge scar on your forehead is way too much attention, especially if you have no good enough explanation for it.

Instead I threw myself into work, let it burn me out till there was no passion left. I threw myself into friendships, compromised, quieted down and conformed to be accepted as good company. I broke myself crashing into lovers one by one like the waves on the rocks that guard this rapidly deteriorating city.

And then I cut everything off, forsake the world and it’s people because I desperately needed to know what was wrong with me.

Strange as it is, every time something inside of me broke, there was a sense of easing, like I shed something that was never me to begin with. I thought if it can be destroyed and removed from me it probably was not true to me. There was a sense of freedom, like the heavy shackles of fear had suddenly broke and I was free to be me. That the only thing that was breaking was this cocoon and I am yet to emerge from it.

I looked for my voice in the darkness, the one that’s true to everything I believe in and hold dear. I found it, stuck by it even when every fiber of my being resounded angry echoes in my head to throw me off, and they did throw me off way more times than I could keep count.

I grabbed the Void, clamped it’s mouth shut with my hand and told him I was here first and that I’d never be drowned out.

For every “You should just die!” I learned to retaliate with “Never!” and believe it. I remember the first time I thought that, it wasn’t a strong determined “I’ll live”, more a soft desperate “I’ll exist”.

But that has kept me from tying my feet up with bricks and jumping into the sea, it has kept me from swinging over the side of every high building I’ve been on top of.

I’ve learned to get out of bed and enjoy the world even if it’s thunder and lightning above me, I’ve learned not to starve myself even if I don’t have an appetite. I’m slowly learning to be around people. I’m learning to be myself again without diluting all my suffering in toxic remedies that stopped working a long time ago.

I know that I’ve survived everything before, every instance where I didn’t wanna live anymore, every instance where I felt like I was in danger and every instance where I had my feelings hurt or heart broken. I find comfort in having survived all of it before and I trust myself to survive it all again.

I’ve learnt that all a person sometimes really needs is to feel good in their own skin, and that it is a feeling you cannot put a price on.

I feel happy, genuinely happy unburdened by a distant storm. I haven’t felt this way in a long long time. I’m learning to feel good in my skin; I’m not afraid that I’ll be sad tomorrow because I know if I’ve survived through it before I can live through it tomorrow.

(To every one that has ever stuck by me throughout all this, thank you so so so much it has saved my life more often than you’d realize.)

Chocolatey musings

She greets me with chocolate on her lips and I lean in for the embrace. Our lips barely touch each other but the tension in between throw sparks in the air. Familiar yet foreign, close but far apart. Desired but not required.

We find ourselves in each other’s arms when life washes us on each other’s shore. Never friends, never lovers and yet, never strangers. Jus two souls looking to fill the void with the little bit of warmth left in ourselves. A moment to ourselves, peck on the cheek and we’re off again.

Perhaps I am afraid of being scorned again, perhaps she just wants to be accepted. All I know is she stops me dead in my tracks and I adamantly guard myself against anyone I feel has leverage over me.

Or just perhaps passed up opportunities and loud laughs are all we can handle of each other cause we’re too afraid to ask for more?

I feel like that a lot. That we’re just afraid to want more. Maybe it’s not even that, maybe we’re just afraid to want more from each other.

Frozen Distress

I was losing myself in wisps of smoke dancing away in the wind when a cry broke through the night.

I paused the music in my ears to listen to the night, ears now pricked for a sign of distress. There was no sound in the night but my heart melted and flowed across space and time to bare itself in front of a child. A child who has never seen light and has only ever seen the world through TVs stacked to the sky like a security guard monitoring CCTV. Constantly vigilant, constantly planning the relief response to the nearest disaster and the best evacuation route.

I don’t really know why my heart does this, all I know is it does and that it overwhelms me every time. I used to think that I didn’t feel anything towards anything cause I’d become numb to the world. That the rivers ran dry and the mountains eroded away into sand but that’s not true. I feel the ocean inch closer and closer to the land and consume it somewhere in the future, I felt the rage in the eyes of the man that pried his way through the gates, his self righteous anger rings in my ears and keeps me up. I can feel the noose of injustice tighten on the death row prisoner. When someone I love is bothered or keeping something from me I can easily note the differences in their mannerisms and vocabulary, I can feel the atmosphere go from a field full of flowers blessed by the sun to that of a funeral in the rain.

I see the world fall apart before it happens sometimes and I’m so overwhelmed by the fact that it’s happening that I have rarely been able to get myself to safety.

Imagine the sun disappeared

Imagine that the sun disappeared.

The mass of the sun keeps our planets going around it but the moment the sun disappears we’d suddenly just hurl forward through space due to the planets own forward motion. Spinning madly through through a cold universe going somewhere but not quite getting anywhere cause space is always expanding. We might even collide with a huge comet or another star, it’s anyone’s guess really.

People tanning on a beach somewhere in daylight zone would only realize nine minutes late. But in all honestly getting tanned would be the last problem in this scenario.

The moon would be just a dull rock orbiting the earth, no light of its own and no light to reflect. Day and night would cease to exist.

The world would start to steadily cool and keep getting colder and colder till the ocean surface freezes over. The temperature drop will continue as the atmosphere freezes and falls to earth leaving us all exposed to harmful cosmic radiation. Photosynthesis would stop without the sun and almost all plants would slowly die, along with all the animals that rely on plants for survival.

Humans as a race will eventually cease to exist.

//Imagine the sun set and never rose again
///6am rambling from a sleepless morning