What becomes of the broken-hearted

broken heartedWe’ve all faced it before, but still forget how easy it is to break your heart again and again.

I’ve had so many heartbreaks.

When I was five passing through the fancy store, longing to make that expensive cloth doll my own.

When I walked into school for the first time, and my neighbour had longer, darker hair than mine.

When my class teacher punctured my ego, knocking points off for my hasty handwriting.

When my mother denied me a fifth slice of cake.

When my father wouldn’t sign my report card because of a few failures, and I had to face detention in school.

When I opened my laptop for the first time in a new job and it didn’t boot.

When I realized my colleagues have moved on and I was still getting coffee.

When I stole my brother’s wallet only to find bills in there.

When I had to endure the funeral of my favourite teacher.

They all flash before my eyes when I play this song in my headset.

“What becomes of the broken-hearted… who had love that’s now departed?”

And I realize: We’ll be fine.

Everyday

Work all day –

Drink all night –

Smile through pain

Laugh though vain

Walk like dead

And call it life.


First published in my Medium blog.

What happens when you listen too much

They say you need to listen. Listening is an important social skill, not to mention a life skill. I declared myself, in no less that 700 words (still don’t know how I managed that!), that I believe in listening.

But I also believe there’s something as too much listening. And unlike believing a magical man lives in the sky, this belief comes from some hard-earned experience I would’ve been happy without.

Because as important as it is to listen, it is also important to be heard — or in the simpler active voice — to speak.

That’s where I missed out. And it costs me. Every. Single. Time.

Imagine someone, who’s a great listener, who’s surrounded by sad people who don’t have anyone to talk to. Sure, these people have friends and are active on social media, but they have no one to talk about their deep feelings, their sadness, their worries, and simple joys.

What happens when you’re the listener in a world like that? You become likeable of course — which isn’t much of a surprise, considering you are the only person available for the others.

It feels great, uplifting even, to be the one person everyone turns to in times of need or worry. But — it’s just too easy to tip the boat.

And I’ve been there.

And I know: When you listen too much — people take advantage of you. You become the punchbag for others to vent out their feelings, and you end up depressed and sad.

And sometimes, all that listening makes me seem a loner, sadist, or pathetic, needy lunatic. But I don’t care. As long as I don’t bore others with my stories.

Human Weakness

How often do we find ourselves trying hard to convince people of our intentions? Quite often, in my case.

There’s something so weak about human nature that begs to be understood, to be heard, to be trusted, adored, and — in short — to make sense.

And then I saw this on Pinterest. And it made me question everything.

obligation

Makes sense, huh?