Oh! To be loved the way you love.. ❤️

How does it feel to know that you have a heart that loves you unconditionally?  I always wondered if I was ever loved as fiercely as I have loved. Not that I can change anything, ofcourse things can’t change.

But to be aware that there is a heart somewhere in this world that loves you, no matter how worn out you are, how pissed, how badly hurt you are, how badly you wanna give up on this world, or people in general. The feeling of knowing that there is atleast ONE person in this world who will still love you, even if you lose at the end of the day, Someone comforting, and encouraging to take the world head- on the next day again.  The peace to the chaos.
Doesn’t it feel nice to have one?

Not everyone is lucky enough for that. Sure, people do get married and find support/ affection. Some don’t, but to find such love, unhindered/unhinged/unique, must feel great.
How I wish I had someone, too. Not that anything would change, but just to know that this broken/ not so perfect/ complicated heart can be loved too, beyond everything and anything. Just pure bliss

I feel every heart deserves to know when they are loved because it’s only such great love that gives the strength at the end of the day. Even when they aren’t meant to be, it’s part of their rights to know when they are loved.

–Aahilic Aish

But I guess some hearts are just meant to love someone without having that love reciprocated by anyone, anytime. But I would continue to love, knowing it’ll make a difference in someone’s world.
Here’s more to loving, even when its not being loved the deserving way.

-Aahilic Aish

The consequences of loving you unconditionally..

Its amazing the amount of love I hold for you!
And its even more crazy that you can hurt me in million more ways than that.

It’s true, the more you love, greater is your capacity to get hurt from the same person. I love you unconditionally, and I keep getting hurt in ways unimaginable.

But there’s silver lining to the cloud if you think of it that way, atleast there’ll be a day when the wound will finally become a canker sore, and then maybe, even if I get hurt, it won’t be painful anymore?

I dont know what I’ll do with all the love I hold for you.
You don’t let me to express my love, or shower it on you, I cant keep it to myself, all this is slowly, very slowly killing me, the me that I am.

My life is such, I guess. When I chose to love you, I didn’t know my own depths, to love, to get hurt, to tolerate, and to still be madly in love with you.

The constant pain is a slow poison working its way to kill me.
I guess it’s better, tho! Someday, once and for all, I’ll be done with love. I hope.

Sometimes, I want to push u away, so bad, just so you value me better, but then I just leave it to it. Can’t even see a scratch on you, I won’t be able to hurt you with that.
I don’t know how much more my heart can take, before giving up, totally. Let’s see how bad that bitch is!

And to think, you have zero idea of the hurt you cause. Must be some kind of a blessing.
I’ll always choose happiness for you, tho.

So, in a way. It’s good.

But if given, in a parallel world, I would love to be loved by you unconditionally.

-Aahilic Aish

True love, sometimes.

True love sometimes doesn’t look like walking hands in hands with each other.

True love sometimes doesn’t look like going on coffee dates together, hanging out together.

True love sometimes doesn’t look like reading romantic novels together or going on shopping spree together.

True love sometimes isn’t going to the beaches to watch sunsets together.

Sometimes,
True love is watching the one we love, rest their head on the shoulder of the person they love.

-Aahilic Aish

And you stand there, and smile.

Smile, knowing it’ll never be you.

Smile, knowing they are happy with somebody else.

Smile, knowing their happiness matters the most.

Smile, knowing they can never be yours, but you’ll always be theirs.

Always.

-Aahilic Aish

My Heart Attack. <3

I don’t have regrets per se, when it comes to you.
But If I was ever asked, whether I told you everything, I won’t be able to promise that. Because, there is one thing, one clip from my life, that I didn’t tell you about. Just one. This dates back to July 2k19, when I was supposed to undergo a surgery.

I had already made up my mind to not tell you that I love you, wholly, most platonically, not lustfully. I was pretty much stern on that decision of mine. Atleast at the start of it.

But soon enough, my mind, and my heart started fighting, and deducing the pros and cons of whether I should tell you about my feelings. Against my active will to do so.

The night before surgery, I wrote up a long, really long paragraph to send you, thinking I might/not come out of the surgery alive. It wasn’t like I was being a pessimist. No. I was being a realist. ‘Cause all through my life I have always explained my patients that every surgery carries risk, and can go hay-wire.

Anyway, Just before the surgery, I chose to not send it to you. I ended up deleting the note, and the night before the surgery, and on the day of surgery too, I spent my time, trying to make my heart and my mind, at peace. I couldn’t.

My heart was, unusually, stronger than my mind this time. And it didn’t want to rest until I had told you how I feel about you. I resisted the urge, until the time of surgery. Though you, the feelings I have for you, and the thought clashes between my heart and mind, stayed with me, until the time of surgery. I couldn’t help it.

Even when I was being given anaesthesia, my whole attention was directed towards my heart, who kept shouting, to take a minute out of my time, before dozing off, and I felt like quickly taking out my phone and texting you that I love you. But I chose against it. And I could finally feel my legs going numb, first. Then I dozed off, as the anesthesia hit me fully.

I woke up, quite later than expected. Around 12 or 14 hours late, to the beeps of the machine, the sounds are too familiar to me, owing to my regular stay in ICUs for my clinical rounds, and patients care, and I also notice, the beeps are not regular, they are fast paced. I recall them to be the the beeps that sound when the heart is into tachycardia.

Immediately post surgery, I am supposed to be hypothermic, and bradycardic. My heart was doing the opposite!! And then your thought ran through my mind, yet again!! The machine started beeping faster now.

Immediately post-injection, the beeps slowed back towards normal rhythm, and now into bradycardia, and Now i start to shiver, violently, owing to hypothermia. Still numb.

Its around 2 or 3 in the morning, and I take my phone to text you that I am fine. I see your message, you kinda freaked out that I wasn’t responding to your messages post surgery. I smile, vaguely, as I put down my phone, and thoughts about you start to run again.

I keep dozing off, and waking up. Everytime, to your thoughts. My heart just doesn’t give a crap about my condition. I still feel for you. And my heart, keeps reminding me about it.

I had no idea my heart was so much against me, and attracted to you, more than me. So much to an extent that it was ready to give up on me, ready to kill me, but not ready to leave your thoughts.

It was a constant struggle between me, and my heart. I kept telling my heart, that it has to give up on you, because thinking about you, and how you never reciprocate, appreciate, and respect my feelings enough, was what was killing me. It was killing my heart. I was into tachycardia, and my blood pressure shot up to an extent of 210/180!!!
Like damn heart, just give up, but no!

That was the time, I actually wanted to live, my mind wanted to give up on your thoughts, mostly temporarily, until my heart was stable enough to let me live. But my heart, just won’t listen. It is not giving up on you.

One day, I woke up to an extreme chest pain, profuse sweating, and crushing pain. The pain, very similar to a heart attack! They checked me up when I complained, and I was given a sublingual, to control my heart. Thrice.
It didn’t work to an extent it was supposed to.

My heart rhythm, kept going out of control, I was losing consciousness. I could see them bringing in the defibrillator, and I still had your thoughts! My heart chose to let me die, but wasn’t ready to let go of the love I had for you. I felt betrayed!!

I didn’t know what to do, to live. When I had to fight between living, and giving up, I always had a survival instinct. So I chose to live.

I came up with an idea, hoping it works. I chose to write this up, and I convinced my heart that you had my password, which I had given you, with the excuse, “If i die, read the posts I wrote for your birthday, but read them only on your birthday”, I tell you.
And I tell my heart, that you’ll finally know what I feel, so my heart can finally rest now.

Slowly, but steadily, my heart, does stabilize, finally.

But that was the day I knew, my heart, wasn’t mine, anymore. May be it never was. This piece of shit was ready to give up on me, and kill me. I hate my heart now. Forever. For loving you, more than me.

But do I have the courage to tell you? No!

1. Because, my heart might never know, but I have accepted the fact that you might never love me, maybe. It might be wrong for me to even expect you to understand my love, it’s depth, and extent. That, I know.

2. Because, the fear of losing you has always been greater than the joy of loving you, or being loved by you.

-Aahilic Aish

Thought Dumplings.

I have lately had time to ponder on things. I must say though, the thoughts I have when I am angry or pissed at something, or someone are way more factually correct, than when I am sane.

My dad always said, “If given a choice between marrying the person you love, and the person who loves you, choose the one who loves you. For the one you love may/not love you back, or care for you, or reciprocate at all. On the other hand, the person who loves you truly, will not just care but respect, and love you in ways unimagined. And on staying neutral, someday you will fall for them too.”

Fast forward to today’s scenario, and I notice most people falling in love with those who don’t love them back. And those people who don’t love these back, in turn, fall for some other 3rd person who are emotionally unavailable for them.

Re-read. Let that sink in.

This vicious cycle continues, producing more and more emotionally drained, and emotionally unavailable ‘deads’ as I’d like to call them.

When, or rather How did Loving Someone get so Hard?

What is the solution? How does the cycle break?

You’ll find me constantly wondering (or rather overthinking) this, these days.

-Aahilic Aish

Someone..

We meet thousands of people in our lives, hundred of whom we may know, and just a bunch of people that we are close to, who actually matter.

Out of these bunch of people too, you’ll have someone whose love, anger, and the indifference matters too.

How just a tiny change in that voice tone, a simple answer, or just a look on those faces changes our day.

Wait for that someone.

-Aahilic Aish

A letter to the previous version of my souly.

Its 2 in the morning, and I am re-reading our chats from way back to 2017, and I realize, THAT was our time mahn! 2017 through 2018! (I know I told you I’ll not re-read them, I stopped re-reading them, but today, I let myself, because I miss us)

You know we used to chat, every second we were free, every time we had, and we talked about many things, without disturbing our routines, or letting it disturb our studies.

Along the way, when I look back to those, I realized I lost you somewhere (I think; Idk where though).

Oh! How I wish, I could have that you back!! ❤

Do you know there was a time, when I was mildly low, and you wanted to sleep, and you asked me, “Can I get a genuine smile?” :)) you had asked me to smile, maybe just to brighten up my mood, but those petty things bring a smile on my face, even now.
Its nostalgic, but rather a much sweet nostalgia.

Do you know, from feb 2017, through feb 2018, we have approximately 400 pages of word document, in small fonts, saved as our chats? 400!!!! Four freakingggggg hundred!

Something changed between us, I don’t know if I am the reason/ my childishness/ its just the role of time, but I would want that you back! Every second of every time, I would pray to have that you back.

You have now, grown so distant, detached emotionally, totally.
I miss you. I miss Us.

Selfish much? Maybe.

You ARE still here, just not the way you were then. Something’s changed. Something broke? Some part of you detached from me.
This detachment of yours, un/knowingly is changing me too, detaching me emotionally, from everybody, including you. More like giving up on life, like not feeling a thing now. An empty feeling. A void.

Those feelings of smiling, grinning, and blushing while chatting with you, are wayyy greater than these dark, detaching feels that I carry around now.

Save yourself. Save Us.
Let’s make it to the end together, Souly.
As lively, as we previously were. Please.
I would give anything to see us that way again. Anything.
I still wait, patiently, for your return comrade. But I am starting to get tired, I wonder how long before you return.
Get back Captain! :’)
~Tarbuz
-Aahilic Aish.

Appreciation…

Thank you for being there.

Thank you for pushing me when i didn’t want to move

any further.

Thank you for holding my hand through the fears

i had.

Thank you for being there, through out.

Thank you for not utilizing my weaknesses against me,

Thank you for being my pillar of support.

Thank you for not judging me, when the world did.

Thank you for loving me, and for not letting me down.

Thank you for believing in me, when i didn’t.

Thank you for treating me with care and respect, and

utmost attention.

Thank you for keeping alive, the child in me.

Thank you for always staying even when i pushed you

away.

Thank you for giving me a reason to stay, when i had

nowhere to go.

Thank you for everything that you have done for me.

Thank you for being understanding, and loving.

You will never realize your worth in my life, for i fail

to express it in words, but know that i appreciate

everything, and will always be thankful.

-Aahilic Aish

Being A Muslim Girl Child.

Yes, two most controversial things.

Being a muslim, and being a girl child.

Based on true events.
I recently met this person, i wouldn’t go by their religion because i personally feel religions don’t make good or bad people, their company, and their perspectives about things, and people do.
I am a person who loves my own company, and so this night, in this party, i met someone after a very long time, and well the first shit that comes outta their mouth ( i don’t wanna specify their gender either) was, “So, you have become a practicing muslim, i see”, i was appalled, and i just nodded a yes.
“How can you practice islam, its so offending, and oppressive for women especially, and muslim parents are so strict, you have no own choices, you have to cover your self, always, you can’t be in relationship, you can’t have guy friends” they blasted off.
And i just stood there, thinking of how ignorant the human race can be. Like, dude, just look at me do i look oppressed?
So i ask, “What made you think i am oppressed?”
And they go about the looooong list of things. First, as expected, was my hijab. Trust me, i am FED up of explaining to people, that Hijab is my choice, and my parents never forced me for it. And like how diamonds are precious, and are to be protected, and not left exposed out to the world, i wear hijab because i am precious, not affordable by everyone. And who said my religion doesn’t allow us to choose our own partner, in fact my religion says, “the best thing for two people in love, is to get married”. Yeah, you heard it right, we can choose people we want to marry, we can fall in love too, just not in the wrong kind of love. The love we have is pure, untouched.
And about the freedom, as a girl child, i was given more freedom than most of the girls i know of. And more freedom than my brothers ever had at the same age as me, infact.
For example, i learnt how to drive when i was in my 7th grade, whereas my brothers, in their 10th and 9th grade. I was allowed to travel alone, at nights too, even in my teenage, when most of my friends were not allowed beyond 9 or 10. Infact my brothers had a time limit too, but me, never. But i was made to have a sense of responsibility, so i chose to not be a night party owl, i wasn’t oppressed for it. My dad trusted me, he taught me to think of all the pros and cons before taking my OWN decisions, he never slapped his decisions on me, neither did he let anyone. I was moulded to think of good, the bad, for myself, and how any of my decisions could affect me or somebody else, and after pondering about it, it was always made sure that I take a decision, and also it’s responsibility if something goes wrong. I was never spoon fed, but i was made to learn to feed myself, so i don’t depend on anyone. Even today, i clearly remember discussing everything with my father. Everything, inclusive of topics like the “male friends”, to say the least. And i was never judged. My parents loved me so much, that i never felt the need to search love, outside, in this world. I never felt the need to be in a relationship to crave the love people crave, for they are deprived of the love, the love their parents could never give, and hence search the same in some guy/a girl. May be that’s why i know, even though i never fell in love, i know if and when i am in love, i know what to look upto, and what to expect, i am truly a romantic, indeed. :))

My dad set the standard too high for this temporary lusty “love” to break the barrier. I know i deserve no less than the love my father had for me. And i know what to look for, in a human, what to expect. He made me independent enough. Strong enough, not just physically, but mentally too.
Most people say, they feel incomplete without the love of their life, they feel depressed, or broken hearted, or “used”, when their “Persons” leave them, or break their trust. Like were you blind? Partially i feel, it’s their fault too, why were you in such a hurry to “fall” in love that they showed you some bullshit, and you thought it was love? And you lower your standards for them? Like, please higher your standard ladies/guys, you deserve more than that. More than just the facade.
My father trusted me, and he knew about my “opposite gender” friends, may be that’s why i never felt the need to hide, or cheat my parents trust. I was always taught to be honest in my doings, and sayings. And they did their part, of trusting me, and educating me in every step of my life. Making sure i learnt my lessons. They let me fight my battles, they let me get injured, but never left my side, they taught me to learn from my mistakes, from my injuries, and scars. It was never easy, but i came out strong. I made my friends, i chose them, some good, some bad, but from each of them, i learnt.
I was naturally taught to choose truth, love, kindness, and to stand up for what i believe in. And so i do.
The role my parents played in my life, was not just of a father, and a mother, it was also, a guide, counsellor, teacher, philosopher, and a friend.
I had my “teenage” mood swings too, but they stick with me through that too, they never raised their voices on me, neither did they let anyone.
I was never made to feel embarrassed, they praised me in front of everybody, and made me ponder, and explained me, my bads/wrong doings in secrecy.
For once, i remember my father scolding my brothers, but me? NEVER!! Not once. And people still feel i am an oppressed muslim girl child?
I made every decision for myself, i chose who i wanted to be, what i wanted, and what not. I am made of my own decisions, and understandings.
And to say the least, i am blessed, to have the right attitude, and thinking towards life, and people, and for knowing what’s right, wrong, and how people are affected by my decisions, and how to handle life, as it comes.
Did you find the irony in this? Me, a muslim, a girl child, was NEVER oppressed. I was raised by a King, like a princess, a soldier, and a brave girl, and hence i see no reason to search for princes.
About being oppressed, i can show “non muslim” “girls/boys” being oppresed, but i can also show you muslims girls/boys too.
So, No peeps, am pretty sure, it’s not about being a girl, or a boy, or being a muslim, or a hindu, or any other religious child, it’s about the company you have around you, how your parents raise you, to have your own mentality, perspective, and approach to life.

It’s about wrong-upbringing, wrong decisions, and wrong mentality; not wrong religion, wrong gender, or wrong relation.

-Aahilic Aish

Sorry, for the boring rant, but people needed to realize that.
Much love,
-Aahilic Aish

Fearful Embrace…

You embrace me around. Tightly.
May be, in fear.
And there, i melt.
Suddenly, you push me,
More into your chest,
Close enough, to listen to your heart.
Like you are too afraid, you’ll lose me.

I experienced butterflies i never felt before.
It was all too silent.
I could clearly hear,
Our breaths struggling.
Time stood still, as i noticed.
Things new to me.
Only to realize,
i fell for you.

But me being me,
I am too afraid to tell you.
I doubt if i ever will.
I can’t lose you, just to the fact,
That i love you.
You are too precious to be lost. That way.

And so i bury this,
Somewhere deep in my chest.
It’s the weight i carry on me.
Every time i see you,
And fall for you.
All over again.
-Aahilic Aish