18th November 2018

Orgy in Amsterdam

I am writing this from predictably gloomy Amsterdam. I landed here a few hours ago and came straight to my favourite restaurant to pen this down.

I would like to start by thanking everyone for the response on my previous blog post. I am living my fame – I got one new follower and two guys messaged me to ask if I was a sex doctor (just to be clear, I’m not). If that isn’t called being a celebrity, then I don’t know what is. Even Kimye got famous because of sex and have you noticed an uncanny similarity between a certain Instagram account and mine (keepingupwithrsa)? I knew all along that I was going to be famous.

Now back to the post. I have travelled a lot, and when I say a lot, I do mean A LOT. Thanks to my military family and then Ryanair Air. Every city that I have travelled to has a story for me, and I associate a certain feeling to it. Some are happy, some sad, and some are downright wild.

While Amsterdam is very close to my heart, I see it as a city of heartache (though it has got nothing on Dublin, and please don’t even get me started on it).

Now don’t get me wrong – the red light strict, legal weed and cheap booze are very attractive for someone my age, lekin kambakht ye dil ka dard  (but damn this heartache)! And this isn’t a simplistic kind of ache. It is complicated. Let me explain.

To me, heartache is orgy of different emotions. It’s a party where all sort of feelings engage in an open and unrestrained debauchery, leaving the victim exhausted and spent.

It starts with nostalgia, and who doesn’t like a trip down the rosy road? You enjoy the ride as it brings back a whole lot of memories and that is exciting. While you are in your own fool’s paradise, other emotions stand by – observing, testing and struggling with nervousness, as they have never jumped in on to something like this before. It is almost like a conspiracy, stealing glances at each other, trying to decide how far can they go, and drag you along.

Unaware of all the emotional commotion around, you cling to nostalgia and revere the attachment. You belong. You have arrived. Or so you think.

Soon, nostalgia has company. Overthinking has joined the party. It is getting intense, but hey, the more the merrier, right? Now you have situations to play around with, questions that you can answer but also some bastard answers that you don’t have questions for, and probably never will. Excitement is on a rise.

At this point, distress feels left out and jumps in like there’s no tomorrow. It starts playing around with your body. The excitement begins to fade and pain kicks in. Your body starts to sweat and heart beats faster but you feel uncomfortably numb.

This orgy of emotions continues in full swing until you board the plane and get out of the city. And even then, a bagful of it travels with you. Some victims survive it, even enjoy a bit, and come out enlightened. Others lose themselves in the whirlwind.

And dear readers, this is exactly how I have been feeling since I landed. You might want to label me a majnu, and I don’t blame you. You aren’t the first to associate heartache only with love lost. But here’s the irony (or twist, if you like) – I have never fallen in love or had my heart broken. So, why oh why, do these abandoned mountains echo?

Comment below or write to me at sabeel@cherrycross.com if you know why do I feel this pain.

About Rana Sabeel Asghar 2 Articles
Gentleman by day, philosopher by night, Goal-digger by choice and rebel by fate.
Contact: Website

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply