If You Feel Too Much

“It is both a blessing
And a curse
To feel everything
So very deeply.”
― David Jones

Statutory Warning: If you feel things in an excessive amount, the amount which goes way beyond the human comprehension, this world might not be the place for you.

Starting with, what goes on in the head of a person who feels too much. Imagine watching five different movies, at once, all in different languages, without subtitles. There are clusters of thoughts all jammed in one tiny place without any air in between them. That’s what its like to be a person who feels all the emotions and that too all at the same time.

If you feel too much, you know of the ache that dawns on you while sitting in an empty house where the walls of your heart just contract at the thought of every love that once entered and ran through your veins, throbbing, making you feel alive. Every love that was meant to last but didn’t, every feeling that was meant to be forgotten now stands at the door, knocking.

If you feel too much, you know of the inexplicable pain that runs through your body when your heart wants to break every bone in order to break free. No matter how much the pain killers claim to kill the pain, this pain of your heart trying to make its way outside your chest, refusing to stay behind the cage, just doesn’t go away. This pain that clobbers  you, leaving you breathless, gasping for air or just an escape.

If you feel too much, you know of the grief, that goes unspoken. The words that refuse to come out as if a bullet is lodged inside the heart like something is being blocked, like a hurricane is being stopped by a levee, like a wall is stopping a sea.

If you feel too much, you know of the sudden sadness that surrounds you, a black cloud that overshadows everything. Like the path to happiness is the path you never walked on. Like the Sun never shone, like the melodies never rang in your ears, like the shaking hands were never held.

If you feel too much, you know of the anger that builds inside of you when you look at this world, squinting because the light of the harsh reality seems too much after a lifetime of merciful darkness.

Sometimes feeling too much, feels too much.

It feels as if one small compartment being filled with endless number of people. Sometimes, it feels as if an ocean, sitting still, collecting whatever falls in it. And sometimes it feels as if the leaking contents of a broken pot.

Sometimes the world is held together tight, but most of the time, it snaps into innumerable pieces.



10 Songs That Never Fail To Heal Me

“Music’s the only thing that makes

sense any more, man.

Play it loud enough, it keeps the demons at bay.”

     – Across The Universe (2007)


When The Music’s Over – The Doors

This song of course, because this is the one song I listen to when life goes a bit astray. When there is nothing to look forward to and there is no hope. Though the name suggests the end, it makes me think about how many times I’ve thought about the end and still survived. How many times I’ve been stuck at a place and still tried to put one step ahead of another and move. This song is all about the coda of the song. So, when the music’s over, real life begins.


Yesterday Was Hard On All Of Us – Fink

This song assures me of how I am not and will never be the only one who has had a tough past. It taught me that very person walking on this earth has had something to struggle with and we never know where this life leads us but we cannot rely on the past and stop moving ahead. It also gives me courage and grace to move forward in life with love and compassion in my heart.


There Is A Light That Never Goes Out – The Smiths

This has been my go-to song for as long as I can remember. There’s something so fixating in the way Morrissey sings this song. It tells you about no matter how many people you meet or how many people you lose, no matter where life takes you, there is always going to be that one light that will never go out.


Death With Dignity – Sufjan Stevens

This song came to my rescue when this world came collapsing down on me. When I was too afraid to push aside the broken pieces of my life and start afresh. Too afraid to look who the real me was, too afraid of this world and just too afraid. This song gave me something to hold on to in the darkness.


Heroes – David Bowie

Who hasn’t had a go at this song when they were low? Bowie and his magic has always been with us but with this song I think he healed us all in one go. Because sometimes, at the end of a day, you just need to hear that you’ve been a Hero. 


Its Only Life – The Shins

When has it ever been that you never want someone to tell you that its only life, giving you a sense of hope that you’re not the only one isolated and undone. There are many like you, surviving.


Hey Jude – The Beatles

Aah! This song is forever in our hearts. Listening to this song makes me cry with happiness, thinking as if he is sitting me down and talking to me about life and love. Hey Jude was the first song I ever heard of them and I knew I would listen to it forever.


Wolves Without Teeth – Of Monsters and Men

This song talks about every love that was wasted on the wrong person and gives a sense of comfort that that love was yours to give and you gave, but that doesn’t empty you, it makes you even stronger. It tells me that the wolves are always going to be ready to dig their teeth deep within you, when to stop giving in is up to you. 


You Want It Darker – Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen holds a very special and a secure place in my heart for what he has done to me. He sings about the fragility of life in this song. He lit me this one bright light in the form of this song right before his fire got extinguished.


Saturn – Sleeping At Last

This song has actually put me to sleep when the nights got rough on me. It has this beautiful music that makes you feel as if you’re floating way above the surface and you’re lighter somehow. As if the dark weight that you’ve been carrying around in your heart has lifted and now you’re free. This song helps me think about my place in this whole wide universe along with it, it also makes me believe that I am a whole universe on my own.

So, these were the 10 songs that never fail to help me heal my perpetually sad soul. These songs, they don’t make me happy, they give me strength to endure, they put back all the broken shards of my life together and build it better.

Though it was really hard for me to enlist only 10 songs out of the hundred that have healed me and helped me, I hope these songs reach to you guys and help you in the same way they helped me.

Being A Reader 

The life that I have lived so far has had the ability to extract all the richness from the pages of every book and spread it all over my life. I’ve read Rilke and searched for the force that drives me to write, to explore what truly churns in my heart what truly my heart’s darkest corners hide. I’ve read Pessoa and known how poetic a life can be, how beautifully broken we all are and how delicately we put back all the fragile pieces back together. It’s Plath that taught me how to survive for she was a survivor. She survived years of debilitating mental illnesses, she survived a suicide attempt, and right up to the end she was trying her damnedest to survive and sometimes thats all you need to do, gather up every ounce of courage that you have and survive. Kafka brought me back to life by telling me not to go for mediocre books but something that is like an axe to the frozen sea inside us. Bukowski taught me that words were magic and if you let yourself feel that mgaic you could go through any pain with hope. Then there was Hemingaway, Miller, Fante, Kerouac, Gaiman, Lewis Carroll, C.S. Lewis and a hundred more, who somehow gave me a new life every time I read them. It was as if I was being re-born from the words that they wrote like a rising Phoenix.

As, C.S. Lewis said, “A book is a heart that only beats in the chest of another,” these books have also managed to contain and console my most overwhelming emotions by being there right next to me in the moments of despair.  So, while reading I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do.

Why Do We Need Love?

So I stopped, and looked at him, thinking how broken a person must be to be able to spread that brokenness in this world. Teaching the leaves to leave the tree, the flowers to perish and the light to disappear. Looking at him made me realize that the world is already a broken place to live in why bother to make it even more unworthy of all the lives? He stood there waiting for my reponse to his question, “why do you think this world deserves love?” Like a bell tolls in the highest towers of a city the same way this question kept ringing in my head. “Why does this world need love, indeed? When all people hold on to in their hearts is indifference? Why bother opening your heart and letting someone in for them to move out with all your pieces in the end? Why does one need love?” Knowing that I didn’t have any answer to his question he took a few steps back, turned away and left.

With the feeling of the very same jolt of unendurable pain in the body; increased feverishness and deliriousness, my mouth went dry and my mind, numb.

“One needs love because it’s the ultimate salvation to the shipwreck of a life.”

My Body, Part 3

Words, really misunderstood creatures.

I have always been a girl who believed that words are a waste of emotion. Saying something out loud would weaken the essence with which the emotion is felt. The path from the heart to the mouth would work its magic on them and something else would come out. Sure there were times when i wanted to scream out loud with what I had in my heart but nothing came out except for a feeble cry. My words collected in my throat and made a home there, but this silence is getting too loud now.
My body has always been the one for talking, one just has to have the correct ear for it. When I look into your eyes I see galaxies floating. When I hear you breathe I think of strong spring breeze that whispers sonnets in my ears. When I look at you, I feel like opening my eyes up to the first ray of Sun after spending my whole life in a dark box. When I look at your body I feel like looking at a constellation. Your smile feels like a thousand rainbows shining together at me making making this black and white canvas full of colours. My touch writes poetry all over you. When I hear your heart beat that’s all I ever want to hear. My unspoken words are not unspoken if you hear carefully. This body has always been the one to talk. You just have to have the ear for it.

Muse: Nimisha Verma

My Body, Part 2

Is my body perfect? Perfect? What does that word even mean?

My body is not a temple because even temples crumble when the earth shakes, my body is the tree whose roots go so deep in the ground that no amount of rain or storm can deracinate it.

My body is not the deep blue sea just like the pictures always portray. No, my body is the ocean’s wrath. Strong, powerful and determined to tear apart every mountain that stands in my way.

My body is not the soothing drizzle that lets you walk on the side of the road. It is the thunder and the storm that churns your insides and doesn’t let you step outside.

My body is not the zephyr that you stand and feel on your face and in your hair, it’s the tornado that will blow away your entire existence and wouldn’t care to look back.

My body is not just the com-mixture of flesh and bones, my existence comes from the explosion of stars. So, when the time comes I shall explode to form another.

I lie here and ask myself, if my body is all of these things, does it still need to be perfect?

No, because my body is not perfect and will never be, for it shall be what it always have been, explosive.

Muse: Nimisha Verma

My Body, Part 1

My body has been an empty canvas for as long as i can remember, with sunlight painting its words on it as i remove the shreds of sanity and tenderness, with the light accentuating my scars and revealing the tales of my victory in this battle with myself. This body has always been a barren land until you came and planted your seeds in the soil of my heart, whose roots go deep within my soul. Your fingers that ran down my neck and back left an intersection there that I am still afraid to cross. Your gleaming eyes when looked at my body from afar I could feel a thousand lighting bolts hitting me.

I am not an empty canvas anymore, for I have your words written on my skin like Braille, wanting to be touched and read. I have your claw marks on me from holding me on for a bit too long. I have you running in my veins and your pictures painted on me like the pictures painted on the walls of the caves that tell a different story to different travelers.

I am not an empty canvas anymore. I am an artifact that you preserve.

Muse: Nimisha Verma

It’s a metaphor 

“The work of the eyes is done.Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

I sit in front of him watching him like the painting that hangs in a dark cornered room of his place, admiring as the sun sets on his face and traces every inch of his perfectly aligned face, highlighting that dark scar under his eye like the water sparkles with the touch of a sun ray. The orange light emitting out of the sun slides slowly as the sun drops, drops to his chest where his beating heart resides. The white of his t-shirt reminds me of the white of the sky before dawn and the sunlight tracing his face reminds me of the pink hue of the sky after dusk.

The movement of his lips register in my head like never to be forgotten, the laughter touches the inside of my heart, waking it from a deep slumber. He doesn’t know how I create music from the strings of him still dangling from the insides of my heart. 

He has Braille written on him, waiting to be touched and read, when touched with tenderness his beating heart warms my cold hands and the warmth reaches deep within. The wind blows and brushes his hair as though wanting to continue a long lost conversation.

He turns around and starts walking and his feet with each step reach a mile in my heart. The brown in his eyes turns golden when the faded sunlight enters, he walks away into the darkness with abundace of light in his body, lighting up the whole darkness. His arms call out for poetry to be written on them, my hands reach out for his to write sonnets on them and serenade them when he walks away.

As the sun sets finally with its last light emitting, his silhouette appears against the black backdrop. He works his way towards the darkness, clutching the light tight in his fist. He stops midway, opens his fist to emptiness.


There’s only darkness now. 

A Memory

“Touch has a memory. O say, love, say,
What can I do to kill it and be free?”

 – John Keats


I haven’t really figured out yet how memory works. How suddenly our brain decides to show us couple of events that happened some time ago. How it lets us live those moments all over again. No matter how brutal or how happy things were, it forces us to let those memories seek something deep within us that we thought was long forgotten.

Now, I don’t really know how the brain functions, but I do know that a touch, a smell, a kiss once registered cannot be forgotten no matter how hard one tries. How beautiful and brutal at the same time it is to be able to relive any moment.

Hands clutching the hair, legs intertwined, fingers running along the spine, lips caressing the soft collar bones, the synchronized moving of the chest, the silence in between doing all the taking and the brain preserving all of this as it happens.

For a long time I’ve wondered whether it is possible to completely forget someone. Or if it is easier to push away the thoughts of that person when they haunt you or let them destroy you inch by inch.

I wonder if the traces that they leave on your body or your heart ever leave you, the taste of their lips or the touch of their warm hands on your cheeks or the hands making their way from the neck to the collar bones to where the heart beats.

Memory is a tricky thing when it comes to wanting to forget someone. You could be standing at the kitchen counter at 2 pm and it all comes back rushing to you and there is nothing that you can do to stop it from destroying you. There is nothing one is able to do except for letting it devour you bit by bit. One can stand up against the power of the memories but doesn’t stand a chance to defeat it for it never yields.

Our life if we see is one constant battle of collecting and adjusting memories. One moment you’re living the moment the next you find yourself reminiscing about the moment. Once you’ve entered this trance that the memories put you in, it is nearly impossible to come out of it same as before. Whether it destroys you or it makes you strong enough to fight back. The latter does not happen quite often because of the human tendency of treasuring every bit of life in a box, locking it and then never looking at the box again. The box remains untouched unless triggered and once triggered pours out against every possible levee. These memories make a home inside, working as both poison and an elixir. With one drop it fills you up with euphoria and with another mourning of the moment that has already happened and now exists in this weird world which is beyond reach.

So, we keep these memories close to our heart expecting it to warm the cold and lonely nights, only to leave us cold and deserted.

Thats what a memory does to you. It rips your apart with its bare hands, leaves you on the floor with your insides flooding, breaking and making you. And now without your notice, your life reeks of all those memories.

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