A change in the habit

So I was trying a new hair color to bring a change to myself. 

I don’t know if the color suited me but I did it anyway. I thought it would bring some changes in me. You know like those kinds of movies, where you do a makeover from head to toe after a break up. 

No, I didn’t have a break up. I was just tired of dealing with stuffs. So after I colored my hair, my mum said it wasn’t much of a attractive color. 

Within a month, the color faded. And now, it’s something between brown and red. It looks cool now. 

So did the change in my haircolor bring any changes in me? Nope. I don’t understand how a makeover can change people at all. All I know is I am sadder now, more distressed and more depressed. 

Although I put new color on my hair, I couldn’t actually bring a new color in my life. That’s how tge reality is. Without even trying to bring a change, you cannot expect it to change over the night. I did try to change, maybe the effort wasn’t worth it. 

My problem is, I don’t try hard enough. I quit easily. And then regret all my life for not continuing. I understand tge hardships, I also understand hardwork. What I don’t understand is even after giving my all, I remain at the end of the road, as the last person. Always losing. 

This is why I am depressed. I haven’t slept multiple nights. I haven’t been able to attend classes. I have even laid in the bed all day. I was at the verge of giving up. 

I don’t know if I will give up at last. I don’t know if I’ll step forward either. I’m just so tired of dealing with everything that I want to stop. I want to stop and look at the sun and bathe in it’s sunlight. I want to stand at the corner of the mountain and scream with all my heart. I just want to sit in a corner and cry my heart out. I also want to throw everything away, run on the beach with naked feet and consume myself in the sea water. I want to touch the clouds at the cliff of a mountain or just stand watching the sunset. 

I also want to fight with all my might. I just want a strong hand to pull me through it all. A hand to wipe my tears and tell me that I’m strong. A hand that can quench all the darkness with a simple smile. I’m tired. But I want to fly too. 

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From The Memories of A Confused Child

From The Memories of A Confused Child

The world is whimsical. The more you see, the more you get confused

While growing up, I wondered often what was it like facing the world. I used to stand in my long varenda of my old house, the house I spent my childhood in, and watched people walking by. I used to think their life must be a pleasant one. How could they not be happy?

I used to get confused when I used to walk on that road myself. Thinking that they road led to my answer, I happily followed. As I grew up to have enough sense, I realized it was a just facade. No life is a pleasant one. You have to make a life of your own. From childhood, we are taught to fight in this world, to make a stand in this society, to take what you can. 

No one taught me not to trust anyone. Now, I easily fall into the traps made by people, trusting them. The more I see them, the more I am confused. Is it me? Or have they always been like that? Cruel, immoral and discriminative?

No, it’s just the way they are. Because they are human. Humans are the only creature who can deceive, who can say things they don’t mean, who can backstab us and leave.

No, I don’t get confused anymore. I stand in a path where I have to fight my war alone. And I will because in this world, being innocent and confused won’t take you to the path you want to reach. Instead, I have to take one step at a time, take a breath so I am not confused anymore and go ahead.

Ahead, where I can be happy and have a pleasant life. Where the life is not whimsical but a peaceful one. 

 

Image source: Internet

If Your Life Was a Book, What Would You Call It?

All my life, I have read books that I found intriguing. I considered myself to be in those books, a character playing a part and not as just an audience. I have lived their lives, I have won battles and I have cried and felt joy along with them. These books have been a part of my life, a part that I have found rich and voluminous. But reading them was not enough.

I had to see if there was anyone who was me. A girl who saw the world just as I do, who sometimes danced when walking while no one watched, sometimes she talked so much she forgets where she had started. A girl who thought the world was unfair while she loved it at the same time, who held sparks in her eyes, enough to ablaze someone who looked too deep. I’ve searched through the books of Hardy, Shakespeare or Austen but never been able to find that one girl who resembled me. Perhaps, I am still to be written. I am yet to be described in those poetic gestures lovers use to describe their soul mate.

No, I am unwritten because I still have to choose what I would like to create for myself in any aspect of my life. It is so easy to get busy with everyday boring tasks, same old stuffs and slowly drift away from what your heart actually wants. What if tomorrow when you are sitting at a restaurant with your friends, watching Tom Hardy on that big screen TV getting comfy in his couch and they ask you “So, what have you been doing with your life?” and you realize you don’t have a story to tell. What if?

We all need a story of our life that we can tell people about. For that you need a pen and a paper. Well, lots of papers. I believe life isn’t about having a job and paying bills. Life is when you see yourself on the verge of making that dream come true. It’s about passion and courage – to reach the glory of success you have desired. If you don’t write that story yourself, no one else would. You are the author of your life and your life is the book you need to write. If you don’t have an idea what your story could be, just take a deep breath and let the story emerge slowly. Everything I do, I don’t have a certain intention or a conscious thought and most of the time I am stumbling upon things that I am doing. I am letting my own story emerge as it goes. But I don’t make it significant because if we did, it would become a pressure and we will lose hope from that.

So don’t see if your story is right, just see if you are taking it to where you want it to– that makes your heart sing. After all you are the author – you get to decide.

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– See more at: http://www.ourtimebd.com/beta/2016/03/15/if-your-life-was-a-book-what-would-you-call-it/#sthash.BHk1PfEp.dpuf

Gossip Girl

Gossip Girl
A new rhythm taken by high enthusiasm,
It’s like a wingless learning to fly for the first time-
And a horizon meeting the sky limit.
It’s all somehow like the summer rain;
Washing away every sorrowful pain.
There is a feeling unknown within-
Could it be for bewitching tendency
Endeavoring mighty will into thin dust;
And stealing glances like a fool in love.
As fresh like a lullaby of spring breeze,
Floating half on water and half on plain;
Or may be burning potato for the third time.
It all comes down like a flow of cascade-
Like rainbow forming under the castle of clouds,
A sudden puff and all will be gone,
Like scattered snowflakes and freezing cold.
As numb and thrilling like kissing the frog.
The enchanting autumn leaving in its awake-
Giving a chance to meet house halfway.
May be there would be a glass sneaker
Or a handsome knight in a shiny armour.
I wouldn’t be surprised to be sang by the birds
To catch my own wedding to a prince charmer.
A babidi bibadi boo or a mirror on the wall
Or even the diagonal ally  couldn’t stop me-
From being where I truly am after.
I have even flew with Peter Parker
And know exactly where I go from here.
I wouldn’t need the golden compass to know.
I even traveled worlds on the Black Pearl;
And I secretly wished I could dream like Ariel
Or share honey with Winnie-the-Pooh.
I am unwritten, I am powerpuff girls
I’m like those pretty little liars from next door.
There couldn’t be any Edward Cullen for me-
Ed Sheeran could sing a thousand song!
I’m a rhythm divine, Winchesters couldn’t say it for me.
I’m love drunk, flowing like Tom Hiddleston
221B couldn’t get me off the street of Buckingham.
I was once what was a game of thrones,
The prison break got me to breaking dawn part 2.
May be life was actually a blue tick of twitter
From Ashton Martin to fast as a superman.
Or a verbain locket being found in a supermarket.
All I know is as Summer of 69 passes through-
I am a voice of those every other gossip girl.

When September Ends

I have a high feeling of misery. But then watching past my days in August, I think September would be just another month in my life. This life started in January, I had high hopes of happiness then. Time flew and now here I stand in another September with the same feeling that I know is not possible. But we can’t tell the future. May be my misery would change into something good. My August ended well, leaving a boulevard of broken dreams and I know I stand there alone. But September issues are high priority and my boulevard might just be in a mood of some plenty yellow flowers and the smell of highly brewed coffee and fresh air. Maybe all I need is get my hair in an up do or an extremely high ponytail and look at the world in a colorful demeanor. Because who knows there might be fireflies across the pool, drunk in love and singing feel the light.
‘Seen that ray of light
And it’s shining on my destiny,
Shining all the time and I won’t be afraid
To follow everywhere it’s taking me.’
Because you never know, besides all these hard times and promises to never come back home, all day running around or even followed by creeps and maybe a little crush to go by, wake me up when September ends, because I will be written in the stars.

Song mention:
Boulevard of Broken Dreams- Green Day
Drunk in Love- Beyonce
Feel The Light- Jennifer Lopez
Someone’s Watching Over Me- Hilary Duff
Written In the Stars- Tinie Tempah ft. Eric Turner
Wake me Up When September Ends- Green Day

Another Month Passes By

Time never stands still. I haven’ t got any moment to hang on to that I will cry over yet another month to pass by. In fact, I’m glad that it’s over. Because that month had been one of the craziest, weirdest and literally pain in the neck. I know fate has never liked me and since I’m already up all night and working my brain out on the first day of the month, I’m getting a very sweet and innocent view of how my luck and fate and nature have summed up together to screw me up.
But, nevertheless, it’s one beautiful, not so much as quiet, slight cold breeze and rainy feeling and a tiny little hope with a laptop on my pillow kind of morning. It’s nothing a good, ol’ fresh coffee can’t shoo away. May be this little pain in the back for sitting upright all night through is a good sign that May is going to keep me standing on my two left feet. However, I have always walked one step ahead of my luck and although it’s disgruntled me many times, recently it has grown a soft corner for me and my pity.
And I fully intend to work that up because it’s not always that luck is very happy with me. So this brings me a little new hope of good will and passion for working harder and walking slower. Because running will make you fall. And if I fall, I doubt if I can stand up. So with a warm heart and tired bones, I welcome May in my life.

P.S.

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Please, be nice to me.