Burdened with the thought of pending work awakened my restless mind. The
thought of meeting the deadline was rumbling around in my head. My arms
quivered and I could barely keep my fingers on the keyboard anymore. My tired
limbs had already passed the judgment, I was tired and I required sleep. I am
one of those curled up in a ball sleeper and for a tired mind it was easier to
drift off to sleep fast. The thought of letting it all go mesmerizes me at
times. The thought clouds up my mind if any of it will ever make sense to me
someday? Someday when I will be embracing my old age with open arms may be this
will make sense, may be.
Sitting in my office I diligently
worked on the presentation. I felt like a triumphant after achieving the feat.
Ah, so time for presentation and my heart was throbbing faster and louder than
ever. I could almost hear my own heartbeat. Fear of getting judged made my each
step heavier than the previous one. Among the judgmental money minded corporate
slaves I made my entrance. Seeing the
uncouth judgment being passed around is a pet peeve of mine.
Resting my head on the arm chair kept near the window over viewing my
garden, I decided to explore the forbidden road again. My arms reached out for
the diary stacked on the shelf. It was deprived of attention from 2006. Old
diary greeted me with its musty smell and the dry pages seemed reluctant at
first but gave me an opportunity to unfold them slowly. I had tears in my eyes
as I closed the diary resting in my neatly manicured hands. The vocabulary was
not well equipped to provide description to what I was holding on to and if the
reason was strong enough to hold on to it. Sometimes the unknown questions
demand your attention and there is no way of dodging it. Was my mind racing too
fast? These feelings are cursed; did I ignore a bad omen? My vulnerability
stood exposed underneath the dim light of my bedroom.
Holding back my tears, I started
scribbling on the diary. What I intended to write I did not know. All I knew
was that I was walking on the cursed path. Does all of your penned down thought
need to have a sloppy beginning, I thought. But underneath, a dense maze of
poetic underpinnings paddled furiously to help me prevent it from sounding
prosaic. Today as I muster up the courage to put pen to paper, my inner self
questions my audacity. For how long will it last? Was it a cowardly act?
I stumble upon so many thoughts and they seem to be at loggerheads,
while I am in a dilemma to crown the imperative one. At this juncture, I cannot
undo what has been done. Nor am I capable of pulling off an act together, all I
am doing is playing alone and playing along. Will it receive its undue appreciation?
Or will it be tossed amidst critics? We instill faith in ourselves after others
approval, thinking or almost believing we’re spineless. We’re looking at
ourselves through someone else’s magnifying glass only wishing that it will
break into pieces someday. Someday we will all rejoice and might decide to come
out from this enigmatic trance. Till then we’re doomed and we’re dazed!
Sometime I
wonder if being in drunken phase will ease out the complications. The
bewitching wine might make the restrained mind little sober? The wine has the
power which can even set a wise man to singing and laughing. It rouses up a
wise man to dance to unknown rhythm. The nausea will momentarily shield the
restless mind from the exposed soreness. This will indeed have a therapeutic effect
to the twinge in the heart. The silent inner monologue will fight its toughest
battle and demand its publicity. The unwanted opinion will follow, the roving
eyes will follow and here you go stepping into the spotlight. You want to turn
the walk into a run and yet your staggering feet might not be your best friend.
Well, no one is and everything you see, you feel, the air you breathe – is all
momentarily. The spotlight will flicker and might fade someday. The spectators
will lose interest in you and here you stand downhearted. The thought of fading
away like one of those unsung heroes of the war gives me an eerie. War – a
strong word with a deeper meaning indeed. War with inner self, war with the
ruthless world - the word has transitioned from one era to another with a deeper
outlook. Talking about deeper outlook, I can reminiscent one incident which
helped me to change my perception and gave a reality check to my fantasy world
– the self created world I chose to live in. During my early teens my friend
and I had visited a fortune teller. Her kohl painted eyes and uncanny looks had
me in awe. Being an awestruck teenager, I carefully scrutinized her chunky
earrings. Heavily beaded necklaces and bracelets she wore made tingling sound
every time she moved or made any gesture with her hand. Was I scared? Hell no!
I was rather intrigued by her mere presence. She had an aura in her which will
take you by surprise. With her black painted nails, she moved her hands in
circular motion over the crystal globe she had neatly placed on the table we
were seated. She got into a trance and said her friends from the unknown world
were trying to send across a message to her. After she normalized, she
predicted what future had in store for me. She said life will not be as rosy as
I fantasized it to be and with her kohl painted eyes she deeply gazed into mine
and warned me to be prepared for the unknown. Small droplets of sweat started
forming on my forehead and I felt chill down my spine.
Years
passed by, there still remained ambiguity about if any of the predictions came
true. But somehow this incident had made a deep impact on me. Aren’t we all
escapists? We are willing to believe any lie that makes our belief stronger in
the fantasy world – the one which does not exist.
The urge to
forget everything for a moment, subdue any unwanted emotions and unleash the
heavy thoughts - is a thought that weighed me down. Indeed life was not rosy
and with time, slowly and gradually the unknown did catch me off guard. The
fortune teller was right indeed.
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