Being

What does it feel like, to be a human?

What does it mean to be a human?

Why don’t I feel like I really exist even when I’m breathing?

I restlessly toss and turn with this question, in this feeling.

I want to feel the air in my nostrils when I breathe.

When I exhale I want to feel my body tire in a way that it feels complete.

I want to feel my heart pounding within my chest,

And I want to hear it beating in a slowed down track so its voice isn’t suppressed.

I want to see the light scatter in my iris when I’m crying,

And I’m crying because at that moment I see the world as it is, as I’m eyeing .

I want my sight to darken into blackness for a moment when I blink,

And only see the world without making deductive inferences, without having thoughts to think.

I want to feel what’s real but what really is real?

The world I have built in my mind is all unreal,

The words that are uttered in frustration and screams,

In desperation and resentment are all false it seems.

I want to know people for what they are not why they are,

I wish they wouldn’t hide behind what they think they are.

I want to know a soul pushing aside all lies and assumptions,

Beyond hatred, counterfeit and envious deductions.

I don’t want to regret what I did yesterday,

Nor do I want to worry myself thinking about the next day.

I want to be able to love what I see and what I am right now,

And see through all the fog that has clouded everything around.

I want to stand in stillness and with a mind at peace,

So I can really observe every moment that I seize.

The world moves so fast it chases a fake idea of wholeness,

You can only feel whole if you stop to notice.

I want to feel alive living what I can live,

Not struggling to be someone but just living to be something,

For a moment, this moment and every moment further to be passed,

I want to be a human who can feel, who can really breathe and a human that can last.

-Mauli Nautiyal