Kesa naseeb hai mera
Mill ke bhi naa mujhe milla
Naseeb is an Urdu word. It means ‘luck’ or in contextual terms, ‘destiny’. This word has haunted me for as long as I can remember. I've had people tell me that mere naseeb mein nahi hai. Love. Accomplishment. Satisfaction. I've heard it whispered when someone is born and when someone dies. “Shuker hai inn ke naseeb mein bhi bacha aa gaya” “Iss ka naseeb kabhi Acha nahi raha. Bechara kaafi waqt se beemar tha”. Naseeb. Destiny. The inevitable. The uncertain future that looms over me like an angry ghost.
Lately, it feels like all I was destined to be is being ripped out of my hands. Like my soul is being stripped of all it's been made of. My naseeb is dying and all I can do is watch. I've become so insecure with my life, with what I have, that it is spiraling in to insanity. I feel as if my friends will block me any second. That someone I love will be run over by a car. That my next blood report will show a disease I won't come back from. I feel like I'm poisoning everything around me. Like my naseeb is dangerous to everyone I love. They'll be dragged in this downfall and get hurt. I feel increasingly afraid to text people or visit them, because what if they crumble too? What if they're punished so that I am? What if my naseeb seeps into them and ruins more than I can fix?
And you know, all this feels a lot like betrayel. Like I was handed everything I wanted and when I hugged them in gratitude, a knife was plunged through my heart. The happiness, the freedom, the fresh air. It was all a trap. A bait that I took. I feel like I'm running with that knife still in me. I'm hiding in bad places and it always finds me. You can't run from destiny. Fate. Whatever the fuck it is. It finds you always. It's apart of you, it is you. Even when you think you're far enough, your eyes find a mirror and you flinch. Because there it is. In your eyes. In your lips. In your very skin. The worst predator you can face is yourself. The worst prey you can hunt is yourself. The worst of all is when the lines blur. When you can't identify what part you're playing. Destiny or Desire?
There is no controlling naseeb. You can cry and pray and wish but at the end of the day it only does what it wants to. Like its it's own entity. One moment it's cradling you in it's arms and singing lullabies and in another it's chasing you like the Grim Reaper. Both times it is the best at it's job. As lovely as a mother. As persistent as death. As real as you are. It's much more cruel than the rest though. It doesn't finish you in one go. It's slow in it's torture. It starts with small things, then bigger ones, and then a slam dunk. It's not a quick death. Most of the times it's not death at all. I wish it was. A beating heart aches more than a dead one anyway. I'd prefer that I think. The easy way out. But alas. My naseeb is out to get me. It's deteriorating and is holding my hand through it all. I wish it was as simple as when I was 12. Bland. But simple. Back when my naseeb was about Royal High updates and takeouts every Thursday. Back when my destiny was to turn 16 and be beautiful. Back when I didn't want to carve out my skin and teeth. Anything to get it out. The inevitable future. Anything to feel normal. Even happy. Anything. God, anything. Anything at all. Just to get it out. I wanna be numb. I don't want this ghost anymore. I don't want any of it. Not even the good parts, the nice ones. Nothing. Let me have nothing if it means this chase will stop. All this bleeding and hiding. I don't want it anymore. I can't do it anymore. I'll do anything. Anything.
Will depressive me ever stop (probably not). But yet again guys just a PS that I am GOOD. I never write unless I'm over it so please don't worry !! Let's hope to God I write smth intellectual after this because I'm done w my sob stories 😒😒.
The title is from an Anuv Jain song called Husn. Sunstack not letting me embed the song here 💔💔.
You speak of naseeb like a ghost that haunts you. But even in all this pain, I hear a voice still alive, still reaching. That matters. “Jo dard mein bhi bolta hai, wo haar nahi maana karta”. You’re not numb. You’re present. You’re bearing witness to your own storm, and that’s a kind of courage most never touch.
You fear your naseeb poisons everything, but look... your words breathe truth. “Jis shakhs ko apna dukh yaad hai, usmein roshni ki jagah bhi hoti hai”. Maybe your destiny isn't out to destroy you. Maybe it's begging you to see that even this ache is proof: you're still here. You're still fighting. And that’s not a curse but it’s a sign of strength.