Cozy burial vault.

Why is the end so appealing?
Was there a beginning?
Why isn't the middle exciting?
Isn't it leading to the end?

Dying to live up expectations.
Dying to pursue the dreams.
Dying to make the plans work.
Dying for the future days.

Can you see the yellow bees?
Little lillies aside the meadows?
Heard the cuckoo's new song?
Seen toads hopping to puddles?

Oh.
Yes.

You haven't opened your eyes yet.

And you.
Have you closed it as they said?
Your burial vault will be sweet.
You can watch it's dead black roof.

Forever and more.

Life is totally in *control !

Once the fictional favorite Margo Roth Spiegelman said 'In this paper thin and  fragile paper towns, people burn their future to stay warm at the present.' I concur to those words as much as I believe Earth is round. Nothing is more absurd and subterfuge than thinking that time and fate will totally succumb to your plans. Maybe plans would make it less wondrous, but no way everything would end up sparkling. so living the life with its flow is golden. Most of the people reading (if any) might normally disagree with popping thoughts such as thats-not-reality, hipster-and-aimless , you'll-die-homeless , wonderful-fictional-thoughts, everyone-says-that, etc. My dears, it's the side effect when super reality juxtapose with fantasy embellished as reality.
We can make our moves for the sake of ourselves, that we should never complain again about the past too. I think it's a way people adopted when worrying about future got so profound and they couldn't put up with contemplating about past too.

The silver lining is that future is a total surprise and there are unknown considerable chances of getting lucky. So
Don't ever whine about stupid grades or silly issues or failures or about any freaking things, because even if you won the highest grade and got hit by a truck, that success is irrelevant. But when you failed in a test, but still have a life to write a retest, that's super awesome.

Everything is about perspectives. Let the life make you stronger and vibrant, because even in it darkest grooves and writhing roads, life is beautiful.

L I V E.  And L E T   L I V E.

Me or the World!

I don't understand the correlation between chronological age and tolerance level. Typically from what I've learned, it should take the saucer shape if plotted as a graph. Initially a gradual increase, then a long persistence and again as getting older the levels decline. But my dear friends, from my personal experience my graph is going for a notch. I don't know what's wrong with me, I can't freaking tolerate anything. Not that I turn arrogant or rebellious, I simply get tired. I get tired of talking to people who does not even listen, I'm tired of convincing people who doesn't understand, I'm tired of accepting things that oblige me to do so, and I'm tired of living through situations that I just want to shift+ delete from my life. Things might be silly, but I'm getting annoyed as hell.
What if I'm the only one, what if everyone are okay with the world and obediently following their saucer graph. I don't know. I have no idea, because seeing others function normally, I wonder what makes them go through everything as if it's a cake. My notch graph will soon hit the axis surface.
Can I just exit from everything Just for a Second.
Is there anyone who thinks like me?

Wanderlust

Loved the way the bluest sky,

Often the tiniest bits of it,
twinkles through the green leaves,
And when it race you to there.
The black roads untouched,
Memories of tires burnt long ago,
He woke them up with love,
They carried him all the way,
following the high heart.

Sunk in the mountain fogs,
Embracing the fresh paths of woods,
Lively streams quenched the thirst,
made him high for more.
Wanderlust was always at edges,
Loving to get lost to find himself.
But was stringed to bright screens,
Lame faces and not the free birds,
Or the wild flowers he wanted.
Stuck stuck stuck
With the world he loathed,

And the bookworm he couldn't count on.

As always he wanted to fly.
He was meant to.

Who are the winners?

Indeed it's a sour truth that most of us have pretty good experience with failures than successes.I may use few asterisks for this is not the case of all. There exist people who were born to win.
I personally had more loses than wins.
We have so much to go for, so many things to fight for. In between failures kill the spirits perpetually and thanks to the wonderful brain which manipulate it into "stepping stones" and the contribution of the  poor memory too. Wins help in building confidence and also to create more failures sometimes.
Well, life always has an affinity towards failures.
Obviously, deep inside we bludgeon ourselves as losers.
College, career, job, family, expectations,dreams.

Now, read this out.
Let's find out something different.

1. What are dreams?

They are not goals, not plans and not some stupid following-path-mission. They and uniquely and ubiquitously dreams. The ones that never let you sleep. It is the one you think about on every single day until you start living them. So whatever you do, for whatever you fight for, make sure it's for the very dream that inspires to live every second. It doesn't matter if you're stuck in something other, quit it nicely or manage it until you cherish your dreams, because staying reluctantly stagnant increase your failures. Simply, Do what you love. (Even though its not that simple)

2.Why do we fail?

Because we want to. You may not accept this, but it's the truth. In the fathomless abyss of the heart, you don't want those wins for yourself. These were just some short term goals or plans for the ones you really care about. You'll start winning at the moment you start doing things for yourselves. That's not being selfish but just showing self respect. So if you're doing something for others and tired of failing them, stop it and convince your folks.
They'll understand.Maybe you should add an account on how its killing your one and only precious life.

3. Are we losers?

No, we are not. We can't lose what we want. The things we lost were the stuffs that were unnecessary to the heart. If you really need something, or if it's your precious dream, you're gonna get it one day and every single step or attempt towards it is a progress.No matter what, you'll die for it. Never give up, it's worth to fight for what you love.

So in fact we haven't lost anything. And we are never losers.

Dears, let's never get heart sick or sad about what we lost. We have not lost anything we needed so badly.
Keep your heads high and go for what you love.
Don't listen to the words of the world that pushes you back.
Never let the words of comparison Pierce you.
It's you who knows you better than anyone.
Believe.  love.   live.
Never forget to say a good word or offer an arm to the ones you see in between your journey to find yourself.

A change to the blog name!

It's about 4 years since I've started writing this blog. Even though I haven't been a frequent poster or a blogger who always kept track of the events in her life and inspirations on the blog, I love this little world I have. All the posts right from "Dreamcatchers" include everything that have moved me deeply. I write when I feel like the saturation point of holding no more emotions to myself and that means all the moments of writing each of the posts were the edgy times of my life.

I'm still at the state of ambiguity about why I started a blog. I was 16 and just felt like my writings would look amazing with classic backgrounds, pictures and eerie fonts and obviously it was cool to have a blog. Later I discovered that the true emotion of writing in a blog was 'freedom'
and a tranquil escape from chaos to myself. Hits,comments,shares,followers and popularity were all truly least of my concern for never once I've shared the blog on my social network walls. I wanted the world to read what I've written, I wanted them to discover it someday naturally. I don't mind waiting.

I named it 'The rise of a Phoenix' for the sake of fascination with Phoenix birds.The incredible and beautiful idea of a life growing out of fire which was the invincible destruction of the same, but after 4 years I feel like I've not been writing to grow into something magnificent, I wanted to abscond  from the world and the part of the growth it induced in me. Writing was forgetting everything and being me to the fullest. It was my oblivion.
A happy oblivion.
So dears, here I'm changing the blog name to 'Happy oblivion'.

Love
Ankitha.

Smoked Heart

Everything becomes true and real when it is to it's fullest, whether it be the emotions or deeds. I've never felt any good in limiting the life, though some situations tend to oblige us to do so. The more such situations, the lesser we live. Before 7 weeks from this day, I felt like I was the happiest person on earth. Everything were going so gentle and pleasant, suddenly from the next day onwards the love of obnoxiousness showered on me. I was fitting in to a tougher dilemma, oneday everything turned to a cake and again I was allowed to float freely under the warm and bright sunlight. Then again all of a sudden I was drowned. But this time it's never like before. I let go of many great things things of and for my life. I die everyday of the regrets and gets reformed by the dreams about future. Whatever things I had to let go were unnecessary for my heart, but very much required for everyone around me now and later. But now, I indulged something which was preciously poignant. Everything and everyone else were oblivious. My heart required it, but it's gone. Painfully irrefutable. I'll be resurrected, though everything will live deep inside for it has only made me a much better person.
I'm going through hardest of times.
I haven't read for weeks and written for months. Some kind of rare pain was engulfing my heart. I feel like it is being smoked. Sometimes I don't even get the relevance of breathing. A dangerous lethargy.
Everything will get better.

To live. To breathe.

I watched the movie 'Me before you', just a few seconds ago and fell in love with it. Maybe because I was craving for a emotional vacation as I'm getting pretty much sick of the life presently. Incredible performance from Sam Clafin (and his dimples,of course) and Emilia Clarke. Actually the movie had prompted me to read it's book.Really I desperately want to, now. More than everything I feel depressed and it made me better. Insane thing! But believe me, I feel glad that I felt something, you know, so ardently, it moved my heart. Such a poignant piece of art.
Sometimes to make art influencing and to have a miraculous reach is just by bringing more life into it rather than filling it with fiction and twists and graphics. Just simply, life. I've always been in love with books and movies which showed life, what it is to be alive through each day and how those little and beautiful imprints also the grim ones of each day stitches to our soul. And finally when we leave this wonderful world, that last blink, the things that will stay in heart, those imprints of the past beautiful life. Every time when reading, when the author describes about the most precious and irrefutable events of any character's life in little phrases, it never leaves my mind. I always remember them. I love that speechless moment of life astounding me, whether in an art or really happening. I've always wanted life be so close to me, so close that I can hear my heart beating to myself. That's why I want to write. That's the reason I love art.
It makes me feel alive and sound.

63

Ink glorified, lens extravagances and
the brains made it magnificent.
The prototypes were admired,
Beyond time and lives.

Seldom thought it'll be alive,
Nor revered it for real.
In the abyss of the beats,
And deep of the thoughts,
Longed for it secretly.

'It' brought me to it.
Tediously, yet gracefully.

The 'sunshine' lightened up,
My tenebrious heart.
Was my world and above,
Were my burning stars,
In the darkest sky.
Was my beloved song,
Of the eternal playlist.
Had the deepest voice,
that called to time travel.
Was the 'mirror' ; assonant,
But the opposite,
Was the host of dreams,
I would be visitant.

Was the 'it' of mine,
For 'it' was the most,
Beautiful. Incredible.poignant
And writhing.

'It' was love.

63 Suns and 'it' burned.
Then I smoked the clouds,
drunk the oceans
And the pain.
It stayed.
I killed 'it' and it killed me.

The 'mirror' was lonely.

Bliss of the awaited.

Finally the petrichor arose...
The sobriquet of love.
R A I N.
Those little droplets kissed the flowers as a souvenir.
My mind wandered beyond miles,
And it rained there too.

Life and folks. (Mine)

Last year, 2015. About this month I was receiving a farewell. Our warden, sister was finally saying few words for us. I met some of best people in my life there, an that farewell atmosphere was making it hard for us at heart. Sister stood up and  begun like this,
"It's a natural phenomena that we meet to part, and it's the hardest of to go through."

Today, laying peacefully on my bed, staring at the white ceiling and reading the amazing 'The Book Thief', I was contemplating about all the wonderful people I'd met and how much I miss them.

During the high school days, I had many good friends and I was not the girl who always hung around a best friend. I was the one who was seen in a group having fun and joking around. But then, I met Sruthi during the 7th grade. We were pretty close friends from the beginning of 8th grade and she was my first and last best friend. If 'best' is defined by the way we shared our dreams and passions, she laughs at my every single stupid jokes, she was all bright and sunshine at heart, we never fought even once and she understood me more than anyone in the world.
And when the high school was over, we parted. We used to text once in a week and call once in a while. Later, we were all stuck in our own problems and lost contacts and there happened times like we have to vanish from all social networks and to virtually hide ourselves from others seeing that we are heart sick. Now, I was able to know that she is pursuing her dreams of becoming a  director and I am truly happy for her. It's almost 3 years since I've talked to her, but Sruthi is still my best buddy for all the good times we shared.

I had another best person from my family. Vidya. Vidya Chechi (sister) for me, my cousin. She was more than a cousin, she was like a good friend to me. Chechi was all crazy, happy, talented and an intelligent person. She always inspired me by the way she looked at life in an amazing angle she believed that nobody could understand more beautifully, let alone herself. She was an artist, a dancer and a good human. More than everything she was my craziest and funny-as-hell sister. We used to laugh till our stomachs hurt. She is only person in my life who gets me books everytime we meet.
But time and distance breaks us once in a while, she lives at Australia. When we grew up, we both got busy with our life.when we get to meet, we'll be all the same, but I miss her terribly sometimes and it takes about almost 2 years of interval for us to meet. She will be forever amazing the way she is.

Last year, I met another amazing person. Riya. We just had one year together and I've never found someone so similar to me in thoughts and interests. But Riya was more kind, fragile and humane than me. It was sisterhood that bonded us more than friendship, for that she was 2 years younger than me. We had so many craziest and weird dreams like zombie apocalypse and time travelling. We both were fascinated by art, literature and movies and also had the funny bone. I've never laughed like I did on those days, hehe almost choking laughing with watery eyes.
We were so sure that we'll keep in touch always even after leaving there, saying people at space keep in touch with their folks, why wouldn't us!.
There were also few wonderful people like Sameeksha, Nikita, Arlyne, Jisa and Aamiya, I met there. Those were the best times of my life. 
Just as same and sad the life is, Riya was also gone. We were in different countries and busy with college and stuff. Still we text once in a while, but it was nowhere close to those hilarious days we spent before. I can never forget her.

Now at college, I've a best person, a good friend, a sister. Meleeza. Meli Chechi for me. Unlike all the previous persons, Meli Chechi and me are very much different in dreams and interests.
But more than everything what I loved in this world is passion and spirit of life. Loving the way we are and living the way we love.
Meli Chechi was all a crazy, energetic, lovely, badass and funny person. She was a little similar to Vidya Chechi for me, as she loves to dance and is amazing at art. But the thing is Meli Chechi wouldn't mind punching someone in face if he/she annoyed her. Her spirit is contagious sometimes and I always envied and loved the the way she is,so impulsive and impossible. She always understood, supported and inspired me at hard times and made me die laughing at times. Indeed one of the best person of my life.
Next year she'll be finished with college and I don't know how much I'm going to miss her.

I'm really blessed and happy that I'd all these wonderful people in my life.At the same time I also feel grim that I'd to miss them at certain points of life.
I remember this quote,
" we don't meet people by accident,
They come to our lives for a reason. "

Yes, I did meet all of them for a reason. I loved them all and miss them, and I'm glad for all the great times and memories to cherish forever, during all the hard times.
 
People.
We meet. We part. We remember.