Learning through experience and error

Writing To Save Myself: Wonderwall and Wonderwall (Remastered)

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Writing To Save Myself: Wonderwall and Wonderwall (Remastered)

I started writing on Medium a couple of months ago. It was a desperate attempt to stay afloat when most of me was drowning. So, I wrote a piece on Medium. I followed it up with an update a month or so later. In that month, a lot happened in my personal life. However, it was only when October began that I realised how I saved myself by just two pieces of writing.

The pieces I wrote on Medium were about a song, Oasis’ Wonderwall. I titled them, Wonderwall and Wonderwall (Remastered). There’s something about heartbreaks and creative juices; they go hand in hand. Perhaps, the clichés are true.

The piece I wrote today wasn’t what I’d consider worth publishing. Since I’ll be only posting throughout the working week now, I figured this was the best opportunity to bring the prodigal pieces home.

I don’t appreciate most of my writing but when you write to heal, you feel different about those pieces. I wrote a similar one a couple of years ago which was titled, This Is To Everyone Stuck In A Tough Spot In Life.

If you’re a follower of the blog and my personal social media, chances are you’ve read both Wonderwall and Wonderwall (Remastered) already. If you’re not or if you haven’t, go on ahead and tell me what you think.


Wonderwall

This is to you, the one that got away.

(Originally published on Medium.)

You came in my life as randomly as the rain in Mumbai. The same one that started pouring as soon as we headed out for the day. Your umbrella and the two of us under it, running and navigating our way through the couples at Marine Drive. Making fun of their public displays of affection, not realising that the joke was on us or it was going to be, at least. Timing is a bitch.

You said we were friends. I was fine with that. No expectations bring no sorrows. I had that internalized despite how I felt for you. You knew it and yet somehow, you let yourself get close to me. Maybe you wanted to, maybe you always wanted to but were always afraid to admit it. You said you had it under control. You didn’t. You let your emotions run amok and look where we ended up. But it’s alright. I understand.

Remember how we had that large argument and we were over. We should’ve been but there you were, at my hotel door, apologising. Why’d you do that anyway? I could’ve left as easily as I had come and all this mess would’ve been avoided. But it’s alright. I understand.

You said you’ll never let go. You left the next day. Oh, wow. I remember how that felt as clearly as the sea we spent hours staring at back during what we called the best week of our lives. Anyway, remember how I was afraid of so many things that were to happen and I opened up to you, finally taking all walls down and you held me and told me you’ll be here forever. Remember how we laughed at your failing to hold me completely with your tiny arms? That was the first time in a long time when I thought I could do anything. You left though and I couldn’t do a thing. But it’s alright. I understand.

There we were lying down, earphones in, looking at each other as I played Wonderwall on my phone. I remember you looking at me and then the sky and the sea. You, me and our infinity. As Oasis’ made music in the background, a soundtrack for our little movie. We went to that cosy café where the food was great and the singers were awesome. I know how happy I felt when he played Wonderwall all of a sudden. How could he have known? How could anyone have known? This was our song.

Only, it wasn’t. It was mine. It belonged to me. It belonged to me since I was a scrawny little kid, in sixth grade, crying over an iPod as Oasis’ Wonderwall played in my ears. It’s ironic how the only thing that’s changed in that situation is that I have grown now. Wonderwall went off my library today. Forever, maybe, because I cannot listen to the song without your face coming right in front of my eyes, our feet in the air, our moment all around me. Not just one. All of them, at the same time.

You took a lot of things from me and it’s alright. I understand. However, you took Wonderwall from me. That is not alright. That hurt, alright? You took what belonged to me and kept me upright for over a decade as you left almost instantaneously. All the while making me promise not to wait for you. It’s almost poetic then, that all I could say was “Maybe”.


Wonderwall (Remastered)

I’m taking my song back.

(Originally published on Medium.)

Wonderwall (Remastered)

Remember the last time I wrote to you? I hope you do.

Maybe you were never gonna be the one that saved me… for I never needed saving.

It was you who needed someone to rescue them from the fire and the chaos. I was there, conveniently so, walking down under your umbrella in the city of dreams. It was you who wanted someone to navigate through the crowds and the storms. I was there, conveniently so, to save you from yourself.

I took my time and I understand.

You left as randomly as you came; almost like the rain in Mumbai. The same one that started pouring as I left you at your door and walked to my hotel alone. I’ll never forget how I held you never wanting to let go… only to let go a couple of minutes later the night I left. I’m a hypocrite then for hating you when you did the same to me.

I took my time and I understand.

Remember how you’d call me if the world fell around you or if you fell down the steps? Remember how I’d tell you everything was going to be fine and even if it wasn’t, I was going to be beside you as it passes. So much for making promises I had no control over.

I know now that you wanted to save you from yourself when you said you needed time. I know now that you needed time to not need saving anymore. Perhaps, I did save you from a lot of things. Perhaps, you didn’t want to be saved but I never bothered to ask. Maybe.

I took my time and I understand.

As days became weeks and weeks became months, Wonderwall crept back into my library. A remastered version of the original track.

Fitting, I thought.

You were never my Wonderwall. I was yours. I took my time and I understand.

So, I’m taking myself back. I’m taking my song back.


Endnote

Irrespective of what you think of the above pieces, the only reason I posted these today was because I consider them relevant enough to be on my blog instead of a place I once wrote on. Instead, I should’ve written these here in the first place.

Thank you for reading.

About the author

Deepansh Khurana

Blogger and writer from Dehradun, India. I'd say I love coffee but don't we all? I find stories, people and experiences. I blog about them.

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Deepansh Khurana

Blogger and writer from Dehradun, India. I'd say I love coffee but don't we all? I find stories, people and experiences. I blog about them.

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