Letters To Myself.

Dear me,

I am someone who can not share my feelings with anyone or tell them if i am sad or need help. I keep it all to myself and the place inside my head. Its Okay. I can take it. I have began to like Solitude. I have trust issues. I do not trust a single soul on this Earth or  the sky. Mainly because i have been let down so many times and enormously misunderstood. Lets keep it all aside. The people in this world haven’t been fair to me and in return i don’t like them.

The reason I typing this is,
I can’t write. I don’t know why but I can’t and I can’t tell anyone about it. Not that I don’t have any friends. I do. But I just don’t want myself to find in vulnerable hands again. It has been this way for so long. I had been fighting my demons. They hold the reins of me day and night, it kept on going until words found me.
Those people who do not believe in demons will find it even harder to believe in words. They have given up, those people. Fortunately, I am not one of them.

These words have been mine. I need not even tell them what i feel, they just understand the silence. I have been able to trust them blindly and I love them. They don’t demand anything and manipulate themselves into befitting my every need.
I am a 17 year old girl! Wild. Stupid. Young. It just falls into that. I am no one, just a kid, who knows nothing. I have not seen the world yet and so does not have the right to be sad or depressed or anything. I am just a kid.
That’s how the adults take it. I am just an ant in the world full of elephant. Words don’t let me feel that way. They does not make me feel like I am a kid and that i need to grow up to own them. They just let me have them. They are kind.

Sadly, for the past few months I haven’t been able to write. Its as if they have denied me. Like maybe, broken up with me. I don’t know what i did wrong. I’m access denied.They are maybe angry at me, I don’t know why, they won’t tell me but they won’t me embrace them either.
No one knows about this, because they don’t care. Adults don’t have time to realize that I am no longer bleeding words and people my age are just messed up in their own messes.

I was  writing this on a paper and then I would have put in an envelop and stacked it somewhere never to be found like many others but then I thought, Why not type it and post it on my blog. Its not like that anyone is going to take it serious because lets be honest, no one thinks that a teenage blog is worth reading for it will definitely be about a bad break up.

Now that i have typed 521 words, i feel good. It’s getting out of my system and guess what, who made it possible?
Words scribbled on a page.
I am gonna make it up to them. I have to.
But what lesson I’ve learned from this, no one is going to be there for you. You are all on your own. It may not seem like it but deep down it is. You just have to make peace with yourself, Love yourself and find what you do and make it happen.

I know what i want to do. I want to make people bleed reading my words! Words that i have written for them!

So, there Naba. Do not fret. You have yourself and these words of your. Beg to them if need be. Let go of everyone else and everything else. They are yours. You will find them along the way. And, most importantly,
I am always with you!

Yours Sincerely,


To the readers,

Don’t worry, I know, I wasn’t supposed to write it. If one day I manage to become a successful writer, it can be bad image for my CV.
I have written 11 previous post for all them out there. Keeping them in mind. Trying to be there for him. This one I need to write for myself. I owe it to myself and to these wonderful words, to claim it out in the world that i need them.
And also, once I’ve grown up, this post will help me remember what it’s like being a teen and misunderstood, so that i make act as words and help them, like these have helped me.

-Naba Mehdi

War Horse

It’s not the movie. Just the recollection of the movie of how we are all horses, in constant war with none other than ourselves.

The world is full of examples of battles and even bigger wars. People have seen them escalate, bring chaos and upheaval. Some have survived them and lived to tell their tales. Some have died as martyrs. Clouds of destruction have lightened above us and we lived them, feared them, comforted each other with the good times yet to come. Completed this circle of moving again and again.

Those who survived them, live in the shadow of its fear. Those who heard their tales are scared of them just the same.

These are the textbook wars, acknowledged throughout the world.
-The civil war.
-World wars.
-Greek Punic war.
-Persian war.
-The crusades.
And countless others.

We acknowledge them.

Yet, there is a war. One bigger than any we ever speak or read about. This is no ordinary battle. Every man from the beginning of time till the end of the it, is a soldier in it. Willingly or not, one must participate in it. It does not end to, it never does, we end but it doesn’t. We are scared of it just the same. Maybe, scared of it more than we are of any other. It haunts us, so much that we never talk about it. Pretend as if, it doesn’t exist.

This is none other, then the one we fight with ourselves. The one that takes place in our minds.

We come into this world and began doing things that are expected of us. Like faithful servants, go about doing our tasks. This goes on and on until one day we became of our existence. In those faithful years of us, we shape ourselves, unaware of doing so.

One day, we finally wake up. We enter the stage of awareness. We wake up to find out the we have then become. We start seeing the defaults of who we are. Society is the first we come to blame in such a state. We blame them and listen, the bragging, we have live in this society, so we must act as one who can fit in too. This is our life to live according to the rules of society.

This depresses us. But the peer pressure stops us from speaking of it.

Some accept it and live from that onward. Some don’t. Those who don’t, when become conscious, find themselves. Shred of themselves. Those shreds carry the lust to go one further on that road.

The battle commences, there is only one party to it. Ourselves. The us, who we really are and the us, who society make us to be.

We go in the hiding of our rooms and in our heads fight this vigorous battle.

Only one can survive, who is it going to be.

For me personally, it is between who I am finding myself to be. I began on this hunt of myself and the more I dig deeper, I more I fall in love with myself. I start feeling comfortable with myself, began to like this person I am truly meant to be. I fall in deeper with myself only to be shaken to realize that this person is loved only by me. It doesn’t fall in accordance with the society. It’s me against the world. Even my parents are rooting for the society version of me. Someone who I am not. No one gets that. They all want me to be that appropriate person.

That Is when the battle gets toughest. To decide who you will be. Who will you choose to defend for your life.

It doesn’t end there too. It further goes on. Once you have decided your champion, you stumble upon whether it was the right thing to do or not.

And on and on it goes, always finding some way in its own to be fought upon.

And we do it, silently. Never telling a soul about it. Pretending that no one ever goes through it. Being jealous of the choices others make, for we know the steps behind them. Fighting upon this too.

This battle inside our heads never ends. It always find something to feed itself.

There is no use pretending it doesn’t exist or that it comes after a certain age because it always is there. From the beginning, till the end. It never goes away.

This is the one that truly needs to be acknowledged. So to give people courage to face it.

-Naba Mehdi

The Happily Ever After

Fairy tales taught us, after every bad time there comes complete and utterly everlasting divine, that the struggle that we pass always gives its fruits in finally finding happiness for all our lives. The happily ever after. We used to read and fantasize about them when we were kids.

Then we grew up.

We began facing difficulties and as time went on got so caught up in them that, little time was left for us to read fairy tales anymore. Nor did our parents insist on reading them to us at our bed times.

So, we started keeping them at the back of our minds, hoping to one day find, one for ourselves.

Time further grew on and so did the difficulties of life and we started seeing the fairy tales as hope for us. We started living for them, to achieve them, to do the inevitable and make them come true.

Happy endings are what we started aiming for. Living life without any struggle, a loving partner, everyone around us emerged in undying happiness, the the happily after ever in short.

Blocking all realities, we started on the path to make our own fairy tales yet convinced nonetheless that doing so is child’s play and grown up don’t invest in such hubris.

The painful part is, there are no true happy endings. No one, can and ever gets one. No matter how desperate.

These are merely illusions. Our own way of escaping the inescapable. For the truth is, we often find ourselves in the happy arms but misinterpreting them we think that they are here for good.

Sadly, no true endings are ever happy. Nothing, ever ends in happiness. So how do we propose to end our lives happily, finding that extreme pleasure in the peace of mortality.

This doesn’t mean out lives never entertain us with moments to make us happy, for it does. Our problem is, we stretch it too far, trying to make it last forever. Nothing lasts forever.

When the time comes of life offering us a chance to be happy, it must be felt that way, in those moments and availed at its fullest.

For happiness isn’t a state. Its a feeling and no feelings are ever solid, they are liquid. They keep on flowing.

-Naba Mehdi