The thing is, it doesn’t make anyone feel like a arrested, all it does is, making one feel victimised that generates a thought seeking sympathy and falling for people who act empathetic. This makes one feel sick and weak of all the choices and questions his approach to life. Alot of bothering is build around blind bands of superlative characters and without any check we are hesitant to speak our voice. It’s not important to me valued all the time neither it has to contextual, it has your thing and a will to reinforce the relevance of it in your life. I know very little about psychology, neither I own any experience of it, but the story on the right side of the table is absolutely different than the notes taken down on left side of it. I don’t remember when I have seen anyone getting into someone with few rounds of meetings and ending up engaged for a lifetime.! But yes getting along is another case.
Again, being engaged and being adjusted is different . I am clogged by some sort ideas which according to detailed concepts may push each one of us into different stages of trauma, while the bigger picture is, knowing someone traumatic is a huge. It is some of misfortune and a generation of our society doesn’t seem to accept this as a usual thing. We are thrown into caskets of idiosyncratic systems which happens to confiscate the person’s normal thinking habits into some psychic illnesses. To rescue a person from hell, we should make him/her realise what hell looks like, should openly discuss about it’s pros and cons and then after few attempts by them, we should choose to help. But genuinely here, we are just unbelievably continuously rejecting their perceptions, and making their self trusting ratio go from zero to negative.
We all including animals have a substantial survival instinct, and we humans have a developed version of it, any person if under any rigorous analysis of any area will automatically fall into category of overthinking columns. This will surely bring out weak , strong and stagnant areas, and stuff which are bitter yet had to be digested. This is a casual composition of life events, each one of us deal with this. The problem starts when the conflict begins with two worlds of perceptions. We are so engrossed with the wrong side of being frank, that we often completely ignore the existence of other people.
But are you having answers to all insecurities and have this potential to cure it, only then one holds this capacity to deny his/her thinking patterns.
Without knowing about the traits , the fears and the roots from where it comes from no one, absolutely no one is that much eligible to deny one’s thinking. It is totally a personal space, and the person can choose to reveal it or not. You can be a part of a story only when you be empathetic towards protagonist at the same time allow it spin his character freely.
The idea is to make them believe in their past, their habits and allowing them to find answers and clues from their own slot only. It justifies with the state of everything you need is within you. Less contradictory approach, less toxicity to emotions.
This makes them self dependent, self aware and very orginal in their approach. Life is a traumatic experience, no one goes off in all tears or laughter, infact it glues you to a stage where happiness, comfort and concern at times spills you off into huge waves of thankfulness , making you grateful for the journey, yet no time to reveal it’s secrets.
-Isha Mridul

My core

You know how difficult it is to reveal your emptiness, a hole that doesn’t even has walls of your skin. A feeling that you have to stand and play the offered roles, by evacuating one’s dark thought process and live with the scene that doesn’t even count you are as a debutante or as critic! This is mostly all of us, being unaware just gives you a benefit of not being put in a preset of pre assumed notions but it does throw you in a situation where you wish to keep people happy from your side. Some are designed to be sensitively accountable for whatever they did, while some are continuing to make a fair count of deeds, tit for tat is their mantra. Well, minimizing the judgemental responses of my brain, I would like to again switch to my version of inconveniences.
I find it really difficult to stay normal or to believe in any random theory of positivity and normal life. Nowadays what pisses me off more is the fashion of spinning a spiritual life. Isn’t it meant to be one’s choice, desire or just a taste of art instead?
Like I may mentor you for a session of good and bad, and might also encourage a great character, but is it a necessity for me to deliver a normal conversation all the time? Then the entire concept of ‘be you’ is smashed live infront. What if I’m in a mood of segregating every action and my reaction respectively according to each element around, back and front that made me create such a response to you. This may be my good behaviour too?
Why is it that being sweet, helping and generous is not a considerable amount of cheat , rather than the so called unsocial approach towards society is stereotyped to be bad? Some sugarcoated lumps are just a click bait tricks by them.
Likewise, I am not a patterned person ,this disappoints alot of people and I’m clutched into perceptions that define me guilty . This makes my intuition speak alot of correct possibilities to me. It has somehow given my senses a secondary thought and is most of the time worried about the any person that comes my way. I’m turning to a manipulated and diplomatic brat that’s again disturbing my self who’s trying to be good for all . At this moment I find frank, bold, active and rude people, identify the raw savagery and holding ideas of being less insensitive. I’m in a middle of mes, having actually no thought how I would react to a certain situation, my tastes and choices are solely mine..,I’m not even sure of this. I wish to be a certain person, work like the other, to known by someone else and to be photographed like the girl on my feed.!
This is hampering my square of beliefs, and soul that didn’t knew anything about geometry is being pushed into trends of tattoos, jawline and face recognition workshops.
-Isha Mridul

The flower

The flower.
I was tensed, mourning on my deed that stopped me to return the extra change which pancakes vendor gave me. I don’t know what happened, but I just refused to give to give it back , with a thought that if he would recheck ,I would give it back ,acting unaware of the extra money. I don’t have this thief’s psychological sense but this time I suppose, I just went for the greedy girl in the town. And this was disturbing me.
I was moving zig-zag with a lot of irritation and disgust with everything that would come my way. I kicked chairs to put it aside, scratched curtains to put them on, I banged gate, and then shouted sorry. I was in a mess, I plugged in music and for this time I found these acoustic set of songs a mere noise pollution. I threw away my pillows, my cushions and was consistently talking to myself to stay calm.
I know this phase of mixed behaviour was dramatic and actually no one could inject peac in me, but I wanted someone I could tell the truth , the amount of irritation and vexation I was clogged in and about every bit what my brain did. One more thing I could notice that, I was in a middle of a huge regret that kept this thought of returning the change quite away from me. My breathing increased and it was just not a good time for me to ponder about deeds, I was suffering from a emotional turmoil, this moment which had brought in many unheard and unexpected baggage. This was all that I knowingly and unknowingly carried. In this infuriating phase of the day, I threw everything off the racks, and within minutes my room was an ultimate frame of mess. I was feeling more impatient and the thought of taking away extra money life less construction of my survival and this present situation of mess made me burst into tears that didn’t really came out.
I was chocked! And a headache that made me feel blood oozing out.
I rushed towards washroom, my toe got hit by the door edge and this ignited the dynamite in me and I screamed!!. I pushed my self in the washroom washed my face with running cold water, giving wild water splashes and then ,…a moment of pin drop silence.! I moved out, slowly, quietly in the living room. The distorted room had something to offer, a diary, 4year old!. A time when I used to mention my everyday moments in the diary. This diary was open and thrown upside down, I turned it, read few pages, then, a dry flower fell off! I grabbed the flower, all brown and black with a smell that made me cough. I looped myself to the scene that occurred then on that date four years ago. I was deflated., my mood crunched back to normal and a little tinch of ‘good things’ pop ups in my head. This was the time when I was proposed by someone much senior to me. And the amount of vintage classic love he made to me gave me a worth to feel lovely, beautiful again. It was nothing into seductive nights or fancy dates it was some meaningful conversations and doubt generated questions that seemed intelligent to me at that time. I kept smiling and organized the mess , the extra change I got was now not demoralising my worth or instincts. I checked the wallet and the bill, it stated a discount and this memory that added value to me.!
– Isha Mridul

Drowning in desires

Drowning in desires.
One of the complicating issues of this century is getting a desired life, and finding meaning to this sense of living. On a broader scale, things that would give you ease or a aesthetic shade to life won’t come to you very easily neither it involves joblessness, but it is more than any competition or skill that’s already available .It will cost you different rides of your age which is accountable for only 365 days and the trade with you and your life may also change any day from this slot. No day is designed for you neither you are supposed to make it wonderful, just imagine the range of goodness you do when something great happens to your part.? Does this make any changes to the headlines? Trade affairs? Mountains? Ohh forget, will your relatives find it satisfying??!! No, and it might happen it won’t satisfy you too! At times the achievements your tick down on your list just happens to grease your prior motivational motive., its just making you believe in yourself to work more.! Satisfaction here steps down to secondary emotion and the whole idea of your worth and success is changed.
The moment you decided to change the vision from your window you will counter more uncertainty and questionable things happening around. This just doesn’t make things better. A person with restrictions is well aware about the things not to do and is choked by the immediate negativity. Without turning to areas that can logically counter the restrictions. Not knowing many things automatically puts you away from alot of possible fears, and knowing more it will initially build more areas of hesitation and a sense to cover a reputation that was set up on the grounds of someone whose always right.
In simple terms, we are being a critical character of diplomatic actions on the stage, holding desires to live life happily while forcing oneself to rebuild thoughts of success, and modern customs of civilisation. We are dreaming a profession, then aspiring to statistical standards, stressing on graphs that is not justifying efforts, and lastly turning into saints who witnessed all shades of life!
Is this even true? The picture you see through a lens is not what each one will also see. You may capture a bird while some may muse to the clouds and that’s absolutely okay, for both of you. The quantity of desires that you pile on yourself is a choice by you, be it being a rebel or a conditional obligation. This is just as a initials of life, and it could be at any stage ,(maybe near your death) that you may discover this vacuum inside which was much more massive than any emotional relationship or pride of the nation or just a son/daughter or like any shit living. We are pretending to be victims of competition by highlighting it more than the life that has created it. Imagine no humans no graphics no statistics. And life, a painting with trees, mountains and rivers along. It’s okay to be calculative, aspiring and being motivated but by choices that answer your calls when you need them, not by standards that scratch out your scream and you to drown in a bathtub that was once your dream!.
– Isha Mridul

End of the light

End of the light
We are in the middle of a horrible change where uprooting fears and insecurities are one of the impulsive behaviours of our daily lives. We are into accepting the problems that is easily compiled into multiple layers of stress and rigidity but this is not enough. We are dragging ourselves into a rough phase of improvement and this is squeezing off our inner peace. There was a time when diagnosis was a difficult procedure, and the trust on professionals made it a one way treatment . But now, the theories is on fingertips of everyone, each one nows the negatives and aggression that comes along with it, and each one wants to push oneself out of this turmoil as early as possible. This mixed signals of acceptance of failures and falling into quick remedies of recovery is making mental progress a mess. We are designed in a certain way that picks up vibes on a level which builds a response regarding it. People react differently in different situations and we should allow each to take their time to ser into their response and support them until their conscience pops up a positive outlook for that particular situation. Each reflex of our understanding is purely important and needs to be properly taken care of by giving them full liberty to bring out. If not carved out, it results into serious emotional damages to the self , without one noticing any major changes. For example., a who is snatched away from a loving environment is forced to engage into physical activities that will counter on his past experiences is a blunder on the person. The fear remains inside on the shadows which wil glow up anytime when the false engaging workshop ends. It’s like what to do when a certain working hour ends? He/ she is alone again, and is just disabled to build a self help instinct ,because the first detachment didn’t fall out completely and now the brain is unable to handle the present moment of being alone.!
We all struggling dramatic deal of emotional acceptance and running through a race that allows only fit people to continue the race. Unfortunately we have turned so insensitive about rational behaviours that emotionally ill people are corned in a way that creates a overthinking effects on them, making them question their professional abilities. Anyone who’s mental rhythm is not allowing to interact with different stacks of life will certainly never do any task until and unless it gets reactions that peel out hope for it. Once being abandoned by regular reels of life and work will scratch out the initials of this fear and insecurities , and will only strengthen this sick foundation. Just because of the fact that, then this experience was left unaddressed, so it may have some useless unproductive consequences to my daily routine ,so I will not bring this into conversation. This again leads to hindering one’s important reflex of commuting things out, resulting into very saturated lump of overthinking, misread signals and cross control of behaviours. This will make you feel good for some days and sick by the rest of hours, only by collecting little negatives that revolves around you. Some good to know facts deal with saying every cycle ends, highlighting the potential of negativity to end, but unlocks the code to, if positivity ends then what?
– Isha Mridul

#mentalhealthawareness #overthinking

वो अच्छी है

वो अच्छी है ।

कहानियाँ जिन पर लिखीं जातीं हैं, या फिर शायर जिन्हें मुहब्बत के नाम से मशहूर कर दिए हैं, उसकी एक भी झलक नहीं है हमारे जीवन में । जैसे तैसे करके तो हर साल गुज़र रहा है, और यहाँ गलि मुहल्ले में आशिकी हर पल नये रंग में उभर रही है । समझ नहीं आता कि हम असल जिंदगी में जी रहे हैं ,या वो ।
‘हम’ से मेरा मतलब है, मेरा परिवार, मेरे दोस्त और मैं । पूरे खानदान को एक साथ खड़ा करके प्यार और इश्क की अगर बात करें, तो सबको अश्लील, आवारा, बिगड़ैल और बेशर्मी ही पता है। बाकी हर बात तो संस्कार, कुल खानदानी इज्जत़ , और कुंडली के मेल जोल से, विवाह पर आकर रूकती है । यही है हमारे तरफ का प्रेम । यहां ‘प्यार’ भी खुलेआम बोलने पर लोगों की तीखी नजरें हमें असहज कर देतीं हैं । यहाँ पर शर्मा जी के लड़के में भी कोई खास बात नहीं है, लेकिन मैं चौपट हूँ इसका अंदाजा सबको लग गया है । हालांकि मैं इनके समझ से आवारा भी नहीं हूँ, बस एक बेकार लड़का, जो दोस्त यारी और एक नौकरी के चक्कर में कुछ कुछ करता रहता है । हम बहुत सीधे परिवार से है, मर्दानगी और पुरुष प्रधान समाज को आगे बढ़ाने में हमारा कोई योगदान नहीं है , ना ही हमें कभी ये लगा की महिलाओं के साथ अन्याय हो रहा है । सो समझ लिजिए हम किस दुनिया में रह रहें, जहां राहत इंदौरी साहब को भी हमने टिक-टौक पर पहली बारी ईडीएम के साथ सुना।
वो है ना, …” अंदर तो आप है, बाहर कौन है?” वही । ये बहुत पंसद आया। तो इसको सुनने के लिए उस एक मिनट के विडियो को दस-बिस बार सुना मैंने । इसके बाद उनकी काफी रचनाएँ सुनी, और मन ही मन पढ़ता रहता था उन्हें , और हर बार कुछ नई बात समझ आती ।
बगल के मकान से कुछ आवाजें आ रही थी, बहुत दिन बाद सिंह साहब ने किरायेदार रखा है। आपस में तो बड़ा प्रेम है वहां, लेकिन जनाब दुनिया पैसे से चलती है, प्रेम से तो बस उसका भोग कर सकते है ।
सावधानी और सतर्कता हर चैनल पर इस तरह परोसी जा रही है, की हम सब एक दूसरे की खबर रखते ही है । तो मैं ऐसे ही खिड़की से नए किरायेदार के घर तरफ देखने लगा कि इतने में , माँ ने पूरे परिवार की लघुकथा हमारे सामने पेश करदी । उनके समीक्षा के अनुसार नये पड़ोसी सज्जन लोग थे।
ये सब चल ही रहा था की मैंने गौर किया एक लड़की हमें थोड़े गुस्सैल नज़र से देख रही थी, शायद उसे मेरी ये ताक-झांक पंसद नहीं आई। बहुत देर बाद मुझे अजीब लगने लगा । यूँ तो पहले भी हुआ होगा, लेकिन तब मुझे बुरा क्यो नही लगा? अब क्यु लग रहा था? अब मैं उसे और देखना चाहता था, तो मैंने पर्दा लगाया और बीच के फांक से उसका इंतजार करने लगा । एक-दो दिन में तो उसका रूटीन भी याद हो गया । ज़रा भी देर होती तो मैं परेशान होने लगता । कभी कभी जो वो मुझे देख लेती ,तो मैं नज़र इधर-उधर कर लेता, या अंदर आ जाता, या किताब लेकर कुछ याद करने की कोशिश करने लगता । यूँ पकड़े जाने पर खुद को कोसने लगा मैं ।
पता नहीं क्या सोचती होगी …। इन सब में, एक बात मुझे मुझे समझ आ रही थी, की वो अच्छी है ।बहुत अच्छी । उसे बस देख लेने का मन करता है । उसके लिए कोई भाव भी नहीं आए हैं, ना उसे छूने का मन, ना चूमने का, ना दूर जाने का, ना बहुत करीब होने का। मैं उसका नाम भी नहीं जानना चाहता, ना उसके लिए कोई शायरी लिखनी है, बस अच्छी लगती है, ये बात महसूस करनी है । इश्क़ में पड़े हर रास को कवियों ने तो लिख ही दिया है, मैं अपने अंदर बसे इश्क़ को उसके जरीये पढ़ना चाहता था । पहली बार प्रकृती ने मुझे भाव पहचानने का अवसर दिया था, और ये सबसे खुबसूरत था ।
ना मैं कभी उससे मिल पाऊंगा, और ना कभी बात होगी । प्यार तो केवल कहानियों में होगा और मैं उन में, उससे मिलने का सोचूंगा ।
-ईशा मृदुल


He texted, “meeting tomorrow at 4pm” , in the middle of a late night conversation. And it’s after this that she’s hasn’t unlocked her phone. Phone beeps, battery below 15% , she simply plugged in the charger and skips to switch it on. It’s 2AM, all dark she with her eyes wide open, unblinked, lying on the bed , gazing into the darkness of the room . It’s some 10th day of moon cycle, and soft rays of moonlight enters her room through the slider window, casting designer shadow on the floor of her and covering 40% of space. She feels some soft breeze running in, turns towards the window, and lays still. After a couple of minutes, she stares the window and follows the moonlight by staying there. She moves a little more than before, a little more and a little more this time, making a posture, where she could see the slice of moon and twinkle around through the squares. Right now, she’s in a position, balanced by 30%of her body on bed, rest all stretched off in a wrong gymnastic position. It’s 2.45 am and she stays still., moon moves away and moonlight is conquering a bit more of her room. She finally collects herself and walks towards the window. Its all silver and type of diamond shine she always wanted to wear. The whole city is painted grey and silver and a owl flying adds a bit motion picture to it. She stands there for a while., battery beeps in the background, as it’s now 3%less from the point it’s being plugged. She occupies the silence ,adjusts to no judgement audience blindly stares this moment. A soft breeze hits her face, her hair adds a glamour and she feels something like beauty.
She’s thinking about 4pm, and the word ‘meeting’ brings in alot of questions that shifts her mood from fancy to fatigued fancy in seconds. She’s stuck with this, a feeling that’s isn’t trying anything., exactly nothing, neither bringing excuses, neither ending up conversation, neither planning dresses or just vanishing into clouds!
She’s just in no mood. Absolutely nullified.
The sky unlocks its screen, and slowly white, blue, Indigo, red and orange is all over, it’s that section of sky, that her window manages to collect. She comes back to her bed and without any second thought she turns the switch on, charging screen lightens, it was 5% battery left, mirroring her inner being. Data was on and it flashes several messages, of him, seeking her sudden ‘no reply ‘ response.
She sits quietly for a while when, early golden rays lands on her face, birds chant the morning ritual and it’s about to hit a time when the day will officially begin. She quickly shuts half of the window, standing there peeling off her split ends . Mood drops to zero and she reminds herself of the very little beauty she got. The window is totally shut now, edges don’t meet and through it a very sharp sunlight hits the wall. It’s actually beautiful. She stands infront of the mirror, and finds no glory., she can’t recall any compilation of her compliments. Just then she reaches a point, where is aligned to be casted on by sharp crystal clear rays of golden glitter. Her eyes cheer up a little, iris twins up with the scene, makes her feel good while she unlocks the phone swipes off the message bar and tunes into a new song.!
– Isha Mridul


The last call was a shady conversation, my therapist thought I wasn’t enough with my efforts. She dropped me home. I was looking for ideas and examples that could rebound me into her. Anything that would make her believe my happenings, one such real talk that could make her understand my problems, or a word that could give a Google search results. I went writing on some sketches and none of them could build characters. All I script was elements with designs and room describing false ceilings. I wrote about the television case and the light brown shadow that came in through the doors. I wrote how it got locked due storms and flickers of light across the streets. The tube light bursts to green and a wave of this scary wind dragged the cup and the Turkish coffee spilt all over.! I could write and imagine everything about the plot and my insights were just unable to cast a character. I wasted couple of sheets, my mind was in a mess. I rushed to washroom, nausea and feeling like fever, I coughed and nothing came out. I came back to my room, collected papers from the floor, unfurled some chits, and kept them in an envelope. I took out fountain pen from my pocket.,ink was all over. I snatched out tissue papers from my own table, and in a hurry, a paper collected from the floor comes along . I open it. It was blank. And many others were equally blank. It was a bit different now, the ink stains from my finger tips, left fingerprints were next I touched the papers. There were no stories only stains. I removed the ink, made myself feel empty, prepared a toast and a Turkish coffee, and sat down to write. A flashback of just a few minutes disturbed my mood. It looked like photograph negatives of me. I was the one talking to myself in my mind while waiting for a therapist. I was the one, narrating the whole story, but couldn’t write a word . Just then, Electricity went off, the light brown light flickers from the street casts a shadow through the door, I trembled, and my coffee spread on the floor while this tube light glows green and white in the middle of my efforts to begin believing in myself.
-isha Mridul

Blow up!

Blow up.
The very first thing about not getting along with people, or finding off synced feelings not matter how close we fit into one another’s square is absorbing life into one single body, and that be of oneself only. Years of life and it’s motives has somehow scripted emotions to be one directional until and unless the opposite hearing ear had the same level of emotional package. Very few are on the floor of serving people or those who actually believe in charity or again who are made to believe in one. Rest all of us, find themselves to be in the most tragic story and sketch out the most traumatic character of their lives. Every poetry is somehow talking about the victims ,and each one of us is sensitive to such stuff, then who is creating such damn insane cases?
We are hypothetically involved in one dimensional success and acceptance that happens to make life , highlighting self graphs to be important and quoting no credit to life processes. And trust me we have seen non generous rich society and also, really dignified labour class. We have seen unity under slums while MNCs fighting over stacks. So indulging oneself to texted theme of success and wealth will not definitely define your emotional relationship. Because the idea of ‘I own ‘ grabs the idea how momentary are these materialistic things.!
We are in a pose where struggles are constant while stars are moody, and unfortunately we skip of this course of time, and read ‘only me’ to our heads. Before entering to any such phases of ‘my life’ and ‘my world’ it’s important to notice and learn how life functions and how it kicks off.! The ocean of philosophy and feelings that we seem to be running in, is actually present in each one of us. It’s a gang of intel that grows within no matter how much you have or is striving to have one. People before faces are huge balloons of scars, fears, faith and trust to be treated well and equal. It could happen, if your deflates at any point, this pre realisation of reality across the globe could help add some air to yours!
-Isha Mridul


Declining the selfish ability and pressing buttons of life, it’s meaning and cost of truthfulness, are we satisfying being alive to ourselves?. There’s a difference between how we are and what we are supposed to choose. The construction of thinking doesn’t always allow us to make positive and progressive decisions, but we have are certainly made particular shades of decisions to be good and the rest of it as bad. This sprouts off layers of mismanaged theories of good and bad, beautiful and ugly, making us divide on ourselves. This separation has made alot problems without making anyone realise the true situation or the truth in that particular one. Speaking organically, anyone thing that benefits the growth of a body might not also bring out seeds in it., as growth do mean providing physical , chemical growth or just greasing the functions of daily processes. Likewise choosing the dark side might not always push you to sin. Imagine a situation where you are in an examination hall, with your friend sitting right next to you and he seeks help from you. So ideally in such situations, the academic rule doesn’t allow you to help your buddy., neither the very first lesson of your moral science class allows you to do so. That moral science class, which holds up a second chapter of building loyalty and helpfulness towards your classmates or friends. The third aspect of the situation has a meaning that unfolds it’s presence in the long term, that’s of- life has various challenges for everybody around. Cheating in an examination doesn’t make anyone less genius or less successful., neither the person not showing to becomes a record holder scholar., it just happens to make you choose one side of cheating and kinda makes you believe in it. And so is the daily toss of life, are you good, believing good, or just abiding with good. Instincts and reflexes are counterintuitive they are majorly designed to question or find an alternative setting down both the columns of good and bad . In in an ocean with galloping tendency, where your swimming techniques fail, all you strive for is maintaining a balance enough to make yourself breathe.!
-Isha Mridul