15 Emotions there are no English words for (And how you could be using them…)

So Fetch Daily

Ever sign onto Twitter ready to passive aggressively release the floodgate on your emotions… but can’t quite express them within that daunting limit of 140 characters?

One word might be enough. The catch?… It might not be in English.

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Phone Files

Phone Files

phone

Mrs. Wondorf had been really worried about her son.

It seemed like a very very long time back that her only son had been diagnosed with Schizophrenia. Her husband and she did everything in their power to bring their son back from the cruel vices of the abnormality that he suffered from. They took him to the best Psychiatrist and got him treated at the best known hospitals. The fact that he was in his late teens, only made it all the more worse. It was difficult for him to understand it all. To accept that he was mentally ill. Especially when everything seemed so normal to him.

“If you talk to God, you are praying. If God talks to you, you have Schizophrenia.”

It is the greatest disorder of the youth, doctors had told them. Affecting bright and highly qualified men and women in their most productive and youthful years, the disorder thwarts their ambition and goals in life. Schizophrenics tend to keep aloof and shun social contact. Rarely do they get violent.

It denotes a severe and complex mental illness wherein the patient loses the ability to think and behave in a normal way. The patient lives in a distorted reality often unaware of his or her condition. They become delusional, their perceptions becoming disoriented. They start living a life full of firmly held, but false beliefs giving way to an abnormal behaviour.

But all that was a thing of the past. All that had happened years ago. With the extensive therapies, sessions with the expert psychologists and support of their family, Ashton had become normal again. He had been living a full peaceful life ever since. He had completed college with good grades. He made friends. He had an ambition he wanted to fulfill.

There was no reason for Mrs. Wondorf to doubt her son’s  mental condition now after all these years. But somehow she couldn’t shake away the feeling that something was wrong. Something had changed in the past few weeks.

“The last time I saw him he was tall and burly with average looks – one of those people you notice, but your attention is not really pinned down on them for long. Moreover the fact that he was hardly ever verbose, made it difficult to know him more or engage in a conversation with him.

It often happens that you like someone, but you don’t give much thought to it. You’re content in just knowing them. You have other, more engaging people around you to make you forget of any inkling whatsoever, that you might have felt towards such people. But then, when you find yourself interacting with them, you realize there was scope for more. Your interest is beheld in them. They surprise you. And you want more of them.

It would be unfair to call this an attraction or a major crush. You meet someone, you like them for whatever reasons, and irrespective of whether you become good friends or not, irrespective of whether you see each other often or once in years at some common friend’s birthday party, the admiration stays. And if you’re lucky enough to get to spend time together, the admiration gives way to a more solid adoration.

And that’s exactly how I feel about Ashton.

I hadn’t seen him in more than two years. But having spent the past one week together, chatting, talking and reconnecting made me feel like I always knew we’d make great friends. One thing that I really liked about Ashton was the way he smiled- an almost embarrassed, shy and utterly cute smile that made him pink in his face, especially when he would be teased about something.

The humor was always reflected in his eyes. As if he knew better. As if he knew what went through our heads when we teased him and a witty remark played in the background of his head, the privilege of laughing at which, he only gave himself. I’m sure every girl with the slightest sense of wit, would really like him, if he wanted her to.”

Ashton was so engrossed in reading the mail that by the time he finished with it, Continue reading

To fall in love for the second time or the “art” of giving back

irevuo

art_loveI never thought love could possibly be divided. I never thought of love as a unique feeling capable of conquering two different spaces, heart and mind,  with the same intensity, but with different valence. Today I can confirm that I’ve fallen in love for the second time: with my work, meaning  my writing( don’t take me as a narcissist, I’m  not one of them).  Along singing, which is my medicine for every kind of moral disease I’m dealing with, writing has become the attainable substance of happiness, the second and most sincere fulfillment, besides the love for that one single person.

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And That Is How I Finish…

I feel so liberated, falling down
Peaceful and satisfied.
Happy to be free from all the pain, to be free of mundane life.
Hands outstretched, I fall on my back
In the darkened sky, high high above the stars.
The earth illuminated beneath, but the moon nowhere in sight.
I have a smile on my face,
Of fulfillment and acceptance
Of a wait that is finally over.
I feel so light like a falling star
I have no idea what direction I fall
But I fall…I keep going
I’m not scared. I am nothing.
Just complete, at the End.

Gulaabi

I see them sing, they sail with thin air
Fingers inkling and linking,
Entwined entrusted engraved.
They do not rest, their feet gliding high above.
They speak of joy, resonating chimes
Faces lit with mirth, resplendent smiles.
‘What do you veil, What beauty you keep?’
Beatified, they greet my words.
They outshine banalities, like scorching heat it lit me up.
Give me wings, to go sky high
Color me Gulaabi, I want to fly…