Being Blind

Hey there folks!

How’ve you all been doing? I’m hoping good Ol’ Jan has been kind to you– or at least, not very mean.

I come to you with a rather debatable topic today– well, I don’t know if it’s universally so, I just know that I suddenly found it debatable and decided a Rant should solve the issue.

So today my phone pinged up with a text from one of my mates. Curious, I check it to see a narration of a short passage with a moral behind it. The message was something like:

A man married a beautiful lady. He loved everything about her, but as with most attractions, he was always awed by her unearthly beauty, and every time he’d look at her, he’d fall in love just a little bit more, entranced by her charm. So when one day, after he left on tour, his wife developed a sudden skin disease, she believed that with that cursed disease, no one would love her any more. 
On his way back from the tour, however, he met with an accident, and although his life was spared, his sight wasn’t. And so began their new chapter as a blind man and a woman with diminishing beauty. 
 The woman’s love for her husband didn’t waver once despite the hardships that came with caring for a blind man, but, slowly, her disease started taking away her beauty, leaving her a withering flower that kept losing her petals no matter how well you tended for it.
One day, though, she died. Her death brought him great sorrow; leaving the man in a grievous state so deep it almost endeavoured him whole.
He finished all her last rights and wanted to leave that town.
A man from behind called and said, ‘Now how will you be able to walk all alone? All these days your wife used to help you.’
He replied, ‘I am not blind. I was acting,  because if she came to know that I knew that she had skin disease, it would have pained her more than her disease. So I only acted blind. She was the love of my life; and I only wanted to keep her happy.’

The moral there is that sometimes, it is for the better to act blind or ignore someone’s short comings, just to keep them happy.

Whereas I do think that this is a very touching story of what love is and what sacrifices we have to make because we care, I do have a little to add there.

It’s true that highlighting someone’s problem would not make them happy, but ignoring them wouldn’t either. Maybe it works for some people; but definitely not all. I believe that when we care about someone, we embrace them as a whole– with their ups and downs, imperfections, insecurities, quirks and everything in between.

What you do when you care for someone is help them out, not ignore their problems or pretend they’re not there. Yes, some issues can’t be helped, like that lady’s skin disease, but that’s all the more reason to let her know that it’s not the glow of her complexion that makes her pretty, it’s everything else.

My point is, don’t try to be blind for her, but maybe show her that you’re the only person who sees what the whole world can’t: her inner beauty, strength and soul.

Close your eyes and open your heart, I assure you it’d be worth it.

 

Anyone agrees with me here?

 

Midnight Ranter

Mystery (Rhythmical Rant)

Life is a mystery;

One that I’ll never really fathom.

Yet I still study its history,

Forming thoughts to help me imagine.

 

Rules change,

And concepts never apply.

Try as you might– you’ll still be strange,

Try some more, but by a corner you’ll still cry.

 

Should we care—

About the things people say?

Fight it fair and square?

Or let their knives deform you like clay?

 

And who you are–

Upon what is that based?

On what they saw described in your star?

Or everything else you once faced?

 

But then,

Hasn’t the past already departed?

Why look into it again,

When it’s the thing I’ve long since parted?

 

Why judge me on the first glance,

When it’s only what you just saw?

I’ve still so much to enhance,

And it’s my life— it’s what I’ll draw.

 

And yet,

We care about reputation.

When it’s a sad, sad threat,

Looming over every single nation.

Well yes,

It’s their word against yours—

Indeed, a fine game of chess,

But who is it to settle the scores?

 

Now I think I’ve strayed a bit far,

So let’s get back to the subject.

I’ll talk about the scar,

And in that, I’ll be direct.

 

People judge,

People hurt.

They’ll walk round and trudge,

Not caring about what they blurt.

 

So now it’s only up to you,

To give them what they need.

Hand over the glue,

And tell them we’re all a broken breed.

 

No one’s perfect,

But that’s the way it should be.

In everyone lies a bit of a wreck,

Mostly hidden under the sea.

 

And yes: life’s still to me unknown,

But that’s one down and a million more to go.

With that one issue finally blown,

I guess I’ll just have to take it slow,

And believe that truths will one day rise and glow.

 

 

Hullo!

What did you think of my rather rhythmical rant? Enjoyed it? Should I make rhyming rants a thing or just get back to bulky paragraphs? Which part did you relate to the most? The bit about the glue and the one about the sea are my personal favourites, to be honest. 

Everything aside, I hope you all have a lovely day and I look forward to your feedbacks~

–Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

We Wear The Mask

You know how when the sun shines from behind a building, it’s magnanimous structure hides off the light and form shadows?

It’s like.. The shadows tumble upon one another; covering up for their mistakes as they do so. They cower away from the sunlight, but really, the sun’s just too powerful for them. So they take the silhouettes of the broad buildings, masking their identities and mingling with one another in a vain attempt of coverage.

Just like us humans with our masks. We wear such masks daily.

And these masks? They cover the glory in us all; we hide behind them and because we all do so, we all become rather dull and boring. Sometimes, though, we wear a mask to make us shine more; but no matter how you look at it, an artificial light source can never win against a natural one. So break the stereotypical and take off that mask.

Be you.

And you’ll shine brighter than any and every star.

Thank you for reading 🙂
Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka)

(Credits of the image go to its artist. And today’s a short piece, I know; but I’m currently on my deathbed with lungs that got amnesia and forgot how to function, one hell of a nose and a headache. So bear with me please and pray that I get better xx) 

What have we done? 

Purity is gone,

It’s now all tainted.

The innocence of a newborn,

With games and motives now painted.

The past has departed,

Leaving us in awe of the present.

But here’s where wars have started,

And all that’s left now is hope buried in cement.

What have we done?

Where have we gone?

What will we outrun,

When it’s already past dawn?

 

Heya wonderful ones! 

I come to you with another rant-y piece of mine, brimmed up with questions and wonders. 

Seriously though, look at us; we’ve come so far from the past, and yet, not everything we do has changed for the better. There are people out there who bleed out all the remnants of hope that they may have had as they face this weird world of ours. So for everyone out there losing sight of the colours of the world: 

One day, we shall break the cement encasing our golden, shining hope; and we’ll all break out like newly born flowers. Just aid in changing the world to the better and you’ll see. 

With loads of love,

Midnight Ranter (aka Ayaka) 

Moments to remember

I used to believe that saying goodbye wasn’t really a bad thing. In fact, it was, in a way, quite a good aspect. Because a goodbye means a new hello–it’s an opening to other chances; new beginnings and fun new facts.

But what happens when we don’t say goodbye?

What happens when we fade away and leave no trace of our remnants and then the people who care about us just keep waiting for us to return? Will they keep on waiting? Will they eventually give up? Do you think that in that way our worth, too, would fade away?

It’s the memories that are supposedly what’s left behind… But you know… That’s what could make you hate the concept of memories so much. They’re supposed to be of a golden touch. So strong yet so fragile. But in the end? They’re nothing. Nothing to people; something to others; and every thing to those kind and caring people who always smile and refuse to upset the people whom they hold dear.

We hold on to memories as if our whole lives depend on them.We build the future on the past; we live the present because of that very same past and we just depend so much on those memories; be it vivid or not; to the point that we get torn apart; because later on, we realise that people had moved on, leaving us behind to bask on the gleaming remains of the shared ‘memories’.

‘The best thing about memories is making them.’

But the worst thing about them is relishing them when they’re the most painful to bear.

So for those who believe that they are invincible; just walk up to them and tell them,”You aren’t.” They’d ask you why; so just look them in the eye and tell them that every person who hold on to a memory is, indeed, very much vincible. They could be our strengths as much as our fatal weaknesses.

What hurts are the matters you don’t foresee.
What aches is the hurt you didn’t want to believe in.
And what breaks is the memories that you always hold dear.

And that’s why; I both love and loathe memories, for they are the most troublesome of matters.

–Midnight Ranter

The Kite Runner– Book Review

“The unforgettable, heartbreaking story of the unlikely friendship between a wealthy boy and the son of his father’s servant, The Kite Runner is a beautifully crafted novel set in a country that is in the process of being destroyed. It is about the power of reading, the price of betrayal, and the possibility of redemption; and an exploration of the power of fathers over sons—their love, their sacrifices, their lies.”– Goodreads 

“A way to be good again”

I finished it. With it, I’ve learnt too many life lessons, ones that can not be simply stated down.

What I figured in a nutshell:

Happiness. What does it cost?

Friendship? It’s ALWAYS a two-sided matter. Not ever from one side.

Guilt? Only one with conscious could feel it. And not everyone has that.

Brotherhood? Let’s just say that blood isn’t family and family isn’t blood.

Agony? There’s agony in every happiness.

Cowardice. “Nothing’s wrong with cowardice as long as it comes with prudence. But when a coward stops remembering who he is…. God help him.”

There are many more beautiful, astonishing lessons that I might have taken from this book. But tell you what, we never judge a book by its cover. The characters here need to be thoroughly analysed; because nothing is shallow; and people are more warped and deeper than one might have originally thought.

The story shows kindness, tragedy, love, sacrifice, cowardice, sin and most importantly betrayal. And betrayal is such an ugly thing.

In the end, perhaps there is no good without bad and no bad without good. No light without darkness and no darkness without light.

But everyone has a time to choose, and it’s your duty to choose what ought to be worth it.

This contemporary is one that I absolutely loved and enjoyed. It was quite the page-turner and in its own way, interesting, helpful and wonderfully inspiring.

 

Midnight Ranter

Say hello to New

My dearest readers,

Another moment of silence for this one trending thing in 2016, the year for all sorts of changes and discoveries.

Wondering what that thing is?

It’s ‘outgrowing’. How many of us just woke up and realised that something felt wrong? (and no, not because we slept in inhuman positions; I’m being metaphorical here). How many times did things just not ring true to our ears and we let it pass because we’re ‘used’ to it being so?

‘Outgrowing’ something or someone doesn’t have to mean letting go of them/it. It simply implies that the mindset becomes different; it’s altered; and you can’t blame neither parties involved for that. I repeat my words, ‘We humans are, by nature, contradicting’, often somewhat volatile, and greatly differing.

Sometimes, I like to think of us as jigsaw pieces in a great puzzle, or LEGO blocks; we only fit right in the place where we believe we belong. However, sometimes, the pieces seem to fit together and yet don’t make any sense. So just because you think that they’re compatible, doesn’t mean they necessarily are, and the vice Versa applies. Similarly, don’t blame yourself or others for outgrowing them, it’s not your fault that you’re different or changing. We have that capacity; the capacity to change. You know, we humans are so different from one another that I think the only thing we have in common is being different.

Makes any sense? No? Welcome to my life ✌🏻️

Midnight Ranter

Tornado

I’m a tornado,

I messed everything in my wake,

I broke hearts and was the reason for their ache,

I raised a mayhem buried way too deep,

And now there’s no going back,

I’ll only let the blood flow and seep.

So remind me of the days where I used to be,

Called out for the girl who represented me.

I caused the damage without repair,

I stormed away from everything,

And left it all fragile and bare.

In my haste,

I never looked back,

Trudged forward and fast,

Not once pausing for my past.

We were all puppets waiting to preform,

I moved first,

And now I drown in my own storm.

I’ve made a mistake,

And I dared the whole world to prove me wrong,

And I’d do it again,

Searching for a place where I belong.

In this world, we’re all alone,

We’d die and live,

Our souls bored and sown.

And, alas, comes our death,

There, we are breathing our last breath,

A lungful of air,

Our minds aware,

Surroundings loom,

It’s a day of gloom!

Break that bond and let it go,

Let the spirit show and glow,

May death find you alive, I had said

And there it came as she bled.

I shed my tears,

I bid my farewell,

And in my chest there bloom my pains that swell.

I’ll hide it,

I’ll spit;

I’d be the horrible me you’ve never met.

I’d do whatever it takes,

To drive away those aches.

I’ll drink,

I’ll smoke,

I’ll let the rebellion cloak,

A fire beneath my hearth,

A sorrowful flame without a worth.

–Midnight Ranter

Side Note: This is a first-person narrative from my fictional story; nothing too real! 

About Knives…

Hullo readers! (One day there will be quite the few)

Okay, I’ve realised some things:
You could be heard but not listened to. You could speak out with a loud captain’s voice, yet the sea waves would crash and mute your calls.
You could complain, but no one would imply.
You could talk but that doesn’t mean that that your words mean anything.
You could see but not observe.
You could die and still remain alive.
You could kill but not hurt.
You could bend.
You could break.
You could do anything.

Question is: what will matter in the end?

Hey if we look closely, I think that somewhere; deep down, we realise that humans could be a bit too selfish. I’m selfish for writing this and wanting people to agree with it. You might be selfish for some reason or the other. I could be selfless for wanting to make a point for pure good will. And so could you. It’s a choice. You always have the authority to choose between the left and the right; the up and the down and the smile or the frown.
The words that come spluttering out of your mouth could be the poison to another person. So just choose your words really carefully.
One of my favourite authors once said, “One must always be careful of books and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.”
Another once said, “Words are like cutlery; if we use them the wrong way, they’ll turn into ugly weapons.”
So never use your weapons in the wrong place and time; listen well, hear well, look and see well, and don’t blabber about things that you won’t be able to hold accountable for later on.

But as usual, thank you for reading,

Midnight Ranter

Pants (trousers really) on fire~

Dearest readers,

I present you with yet another rant about this wonderful world of ours; considering the fact that I’m still hot and feisty. I think that it sort of felt good to let out something that was an annoying piece of my brain. Despite the fact that only a select few will read this, I still don’t feel particularly down; because some will take the time to read my good old rant.

So thanks again, peeps. I just hope that you hear (read) me out on this one.

DISCLAIMER: this is nothing personal. I’m just generally a talkative person, mind you.

Okay, here goes:

Can we all have a moment of silence and consider the term “hypocrisy”?

Literally, it is defined as: ‘the practice of claiming to have higher standards or more noble beliefs than is the case.’

In other words, it typically includes egoism and lying. But mind you, egoism is nothing like having a sense of righteous dignity. They are definitely not the same. But the sad thing here is; the world is growing more hypocritical and I’m being frank here.

And by that I mean to say that liars are becoming quite popular around. See, I’m not a saint; I’m no angel either, but if anything is worth anything, I just hate lying. I loathe it. Religion aside, how do you expect to deal with a person whose words could literally mean nothing to you?

How do you expect to be able to trust anyone anymore?

How do you think life would be if we all turned to mere liars?

What would happen if there was no longer a truth?

Yeah, I’m pretty sure that the answers to all of these are quite sad. Now here’s another question:

Why do people lie?

Oh, I’ve gotten an answer to that: because they are cowards. I’m not judging them, I’m not labelling them, I’m just classifying their actions. Lying is just stealing with a bit of modification. If I trust you, I expect you to be up to that responsibility; not lie to me; trick me, or treat me as if I’m just another passerby. You wouldn’t want that; so don’t give it to others.

 

So there, we covered one. But if you lie, you could literally do every other thing all the more, I mean, would it matter?

No, it won’t. So don’t lie. Because if you do, then, believe me, you’ll cease to be a human. You wouldn’t care about anyone anymore; you wouldn’t think twice before deceiving someone; you wouldn’t be trustworthy anymore– if you ever were.

The saddest thing here is… You’ll start believing your own lies. Imagine deceiving yourself; tricking your own mind into oblivion and in a matter of little time, you’ll become self-deluded.

God, lying is such an ugly thing, you know. I could go on and on about it all day long. But even then, I wouldn’t convey half its defects. So just don’t steal a person’s right to the truth; don’t try to block the shimmering brightness of the only thing that’ll ever prevail, and don’t try to lead such a shameful life— it’s not worth it.

Thanks for reading. 🙂

Signed,

Midnight Ranter