It’s okay not to be okay.

“If we could look into each other’s hearts and understand the unique challenges each of us faces, I think we would treat each other more gently, with more love, tolerance and care.”

— Marvin. J. Ashton

Our life is a bitter sweet semblance of different phases. At one time we are extremely energetic and creativity diffuses in our veins like an ink drop in the sparkling water. However, it is very important to learn that not every phase last for a very long time just like a day passes by with such a tender subtleness that by the time we actually notice, the sun is already set. There are days in our lives where we don’t feel like doing anything at all. The days when you want to quit all the flamboyance and just sit on the roof-top, gazing stars in silence. On the other hand there are also these very strange days where you don’t even want to leave your bed and just lie down in awkward position, curled up with half blanket on your body and the rest hanging down your bed. Your studies are affected, eating routine is messed up and all you could feel is anxiety.

If you are experiencing any of the above phase, just know that it’s perfectly okay not to be okay sometimes, because, being okay or not is one thing that we can’t control. The only thing that we can, is believing that better days are coming. If you go through the history and read about all the great writers like Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allan Poe and Charles Dickens, which we actually look up to as our inspiration, you would come to know that they all faced this phase in their lives which severely affected their writing, drinking and smoking habits, their financial stability, marriage, mental health and social reputation, but what happened? They rose again, and every time they did, they emerged stronger than ever.

It is better to follow your bodily patterns and tune them gently according to what needs to be done. Rebelling against your bodily energy could lead you to an overwhelming mental state. Be kind to your body and store your energy for the productive days. Nowadays, it is something that a very few people understand, however, before anyone else, it should be you, yourself to understand that it is perfectly fine and that tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow or the day after that would be a good day and the sun will shine the brightest for you. Just hang in there, everything is going to be alright and remember that you are the only authority who could make a difference in your life.

“Just as stars shine brightest in the darkest night, your joy blazes brilliantly through life’s problems when you count them as joy.”

―Elizabeth George

Gothic Fiction: A Direct Imitation of Reality?

Gothic fiction is a whole mood. I mean I just finished reading Edgar Allan Poe which included one of his enchanting poem, The Raven and bewitching short story, Tell-tale Heart. I wont lie but they left me awe-struck and I definitely recommend you all to give them a read, especially now that the October is here and the nights are getting colder. They would serve as an enthralling bed-time reads that would ascend you into another dimension of underworld.

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
― Edgar Allen Poe

Gothic fiction I believe is a genre that emerges from the real life experiences of the normal human-beings. However, they are an exciting interpretation of those daily-life issues like mental and psychological ailments, anxiety, depression, loneliness and what not. Gothic fiction serves as a glitter that brings shimmer to our ordinary painting thus stealing everybody’s attention. Its fascinating how this genre is gloomily filled with dungeons of fears just like us. We all carry several secrets inside the chambers of our hearts.  All of us have been the slaves of our darkest desires and how those desires pushed us to commit the sins that we never would’ve done in our senses. Just like the theme of paranoia in this genre, we all experience such moments when we are rendered clueless, having no idea what to do and where to go anymore.

“If you wish to forget anything on the spot, make a note that this thing is to be remembered.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

The ghastly appearances in the scary stories that tend to give us goosebumps might be the reflection of the memories from our past that tend to haunt us for the rest of our lives. Our past and the bad people that we encountered in it, the guilt of meeting them and not being able to forget even the single one of them. Even when we try to keep some memories out of our mind, why is it that those things are the first ones to pop-up in our mind every morning as we wake up and settle on our chests like a heavy burden by the night? How despite knowing that we wont be able to get certain things in our lives, we run after them like eccentric cicadas. What is the cause of all this madness? Why is it that even when we are well-aware of the consequences and reality, we tend to deny the truth and embrace the lies that give us a temporary solace? 

Gothic fiction is not just fiction, rather I believe this genre is the closest to reality. It is the direct imitation of each and every action that we perpetrate with every passing moment.

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

What we feel inside that the others cant see, feel or hear, the screams that echo in the empty chambers of our hearts, the adrenaline rush inside our veins, the pain in our chest and rise of fluids in our stomach which make us want to puke in broad daylight. The tears that we ingest in silence so that they might not twinkle in our eyes. Our wildest dreams that could never be fulfilled, our passions that are brutally slayed by the society. Despite being surrounded by a million people, not being able to find even a single soul that you could actually call yours, the fear of encountering right people at the wrong time and losing them when the time is finally right, a fog of fear looms around every hallway, every alley of the castle of our dreams, the residence of our existence. It is everything about our existence that actually haunt us, chase us and torment us till our heart stops beating and our breath becomes air.

Just like Gothic fiction is famous for a constant sense of increasing fear both within the readers and the narrators, our lives are full of fears as well. We all fear not just one, but an umpteen aspects of life, just like uncertainty that prevails in the respective genre, our life is a roller coaster ride where one never knows if he would be able to see the other end or not. I like how we humans are this much vulnerable, however its painful to see how we all are too scared to be lonely. It’s bitter sweet but life gives us everything with a ticking timer. Everything that we get, we have to lose it eventually. That is life and that is what it is. Forget “Damsels in Distress”, we all are the “Humans in Distress” here, waiting for the “Hope in shiny armor” to save us from our circumstantial as well as the self-inflicted miseries.

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
― Edgar Allen Poe

The balm of tranquility that we tend to find within the faces and bodies of the strangers is right inside our own hands. Place your hand upon your chest and chant louder, “Darling! You’ve got me.” That is what we need, our very own selves to save us. Stop finding temporary shelters, instead build yourself a Doric Castle which could provide shelter to the homeless souls. Don’t rely on others, instead be the one who could embrace the weaklings. Stand tall! You got this!

A day of October 1st.

It was like a breath of fresh air, the golden October. Cider mills started whistling again in the countryside, crushing and grinding the fresh apples and turning them into the magical elixir for the crisp, golden season at the hand. Pumpkin patches were bejeweled with ripe, bright tangerine winter squashes and a crowd of locals swarmed in by noon to get their hands on the best one.

People were wide opening the windows of their homes to let the soft, cool breeze sneak into their cozy nooks, humming a welcoming song for the jolly Fall. The smoke emanating from the chimneys of baked bricks diffused into the autumnal sky, an intermingling aroma of fresh pumpkin pies, creamy baked potatoes, stuffed turkey, cauliflower broth, warm cider, and greasy ratatouille.

Indeed it was the best time to fall in love with all the worldly creations, a time to sit back and relax. A time so magical where the sky deemed ethereal as if a million diamonds were crushed to form the shining golden horizon under which the lilac moors staged the enigmatic dance of cotton grass.

October was there, and all the calendars on the walls were marked, radios were taken out of the dusty racks and put up on the window sills, playing ‘burn witch burn’ by Molle Mystery Theater. The libraries were replacing their aesthetic window displays with gothic fiction like Dracula, Frankenstein, Coraline, and The Graveyard Book. Gardens and pathways in the greens were covered with the crunching leaves in hues of yellow and gold and where mere a crackle of the crisp fallen leaf could brighten up the day of several lovers taking a stroll in the nearby parks. Staircases in front of the red doors were made festive using the pumpkin peels carved in the shape of jack-o-lantern, stuffed with glimmering candles and twinkling fairy lights.

“October, baptize me with leaves! Swaddle me in corduroy and nurse me with split pea soup. October, tuck tiny candy bars in my pockets and carve my smile into a thousand pumpkins. O autumn! O teakettle! O grace!”
― Rainbow Rowell , Attachments.

Families sitting together in their comfy couches, bursting into laughter as they take their sweaters and stockings out of the winter trunks while sipping on the freshly brewed cocoa from the steaming kettle that is still whistling in the kitchen. Incense candles were flickering dimly into the dark rooms, dispersing the aroma of cinnamon, pumpkin spice, and the dewy fir as the autumnal sky grew darker and the night of first October grew colder. In a world full of magical Octobers like these, what else could a man possibly desire?

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”                          ― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables