“I am not sure if I feel anything.”, she said. “Its like my soul has shut down, stopped to feel. Both sadness and happiness. I am just floating on the surface ready to embrace whatever is destined for me.
I used to be afraid of sadness. I used to fear heartache in the wake of love, I used to fear attachments, I used to fear the fall after soaring too high, I used to fear a lot. But then I experienced it all. You see, happiness ends and is followed by melancholy. Both are consecutive, so in life at one moment you are on cloud nine and at other moment you are drowning and suffocating for air and the former moment is not mere moment but eternity on its own! The only thing that helps you survive through this lengthy phase of sinking is, the memory of being on cloud nine.
So I have felt too much to feel anything for a while….”
To the quiet and confusion,
both of which have been,
devouring my soul.
She collects the droplets of mist,
as though they are,
scattered bits of her own,
and as the hour passes by,
she keeps missing you more,
as though you are,
her lost home!!
Mirror mirror on the wall,
I stand before you, bold and tall
I want to hear something new
Something people don’t see at all.
So speak not of my figure and face,
Tell me how beautiful is my soul.
Mirror Mirror on the wall…
IT was his happy place. Sitting in the terrace having coffee observing the fog filled environment and breathing in the fragrance of damp forest. It was like being alone in a totally different dimension for sometime till she woke up. She woke up to bring colors. She woke up and the fog had settled, the view got clearer for him to see. Sunshine blazed at 12 and before that both have finished the morning warm up and breakfast. The aroma of bacons along with peanut butter and toast delighted him and made him more hungry while she fixed a bowl of oats with nuts for herself.
This was another thing about her. She liked to stay healthy. She liked very much to stay alive. She was alive and for that reason, so was he. Alive at heart. Happy. Content.
In the lonesome morning hour he spent, given his being an early bird, he pondered. He thought about anything and everything and every now and then jotted down something on sticky notes that were placed on table next to his chair, so that he can use the lines/words/thoughts whenever he needed them. It was another of her ideas. She perfectly understood him and his profession. He was frustrated once at the wonderful line he thought and didn’t write so couldn’t remember. This however never happened after that because she made sticky notes and pen available in all the usual places he dwelt, including the shower which had gel pen so the ink won’t spread before she could keep them into his desk.
He was sitting in the morning as usual thinking all of this and a lot more. How she became the driving force of his life. Took over him, owned him and cared for him like no one ever did. He thought for a moment about a morning without her.
“If she’s gone…” , he wrote. Uncountable minutes past, the pen still in his hand, he as though lost until he recovered and continued;
“If she’s gone…. There wouldn’t exists any ‘me’.”
He heard the sound of something falling in the kitchen and he smiled. His morning had just begun!
“With people, its rare to find a concerned soul. Someone who listens to not judge, who listens to console and who speaks to advice or to lift you up and not taunt and demoralize. I do not know what has gotten so wrong with the world. So I really am the silent type and that is why I only speak to my journal and to no one else. Because I know. They’ll hear and then make me feel even worst. “
“What are you dreams?”, he wanted to know as much as possible. His curiosity had grown much much more over the time and had made him restless.
“I do not talk about my dreams.”
“But why not?”, he insisted.
“I just do not feel like it.”
“Still give it a try.”, he was pushing more than he should but he didn’t bother.
“Do you really want to know?”
“I do.”, as simple as that!
“Err… my dreams are not the fairy tale dreams usually teenagers imagine. If I put it correctly, my dreams are perhaps my life goals, anchoring me to stay in a stable position even when my days are rumbling down like the enraged waves, you see. Life is like that too.”
It was best to remain quiet and listen he knew that, because it wasn’t likely that she ever spoke about anything related to herself. But this once she chose to open up. Strange.
“I am not the type to search for riddles, like people want to know what there is to life? Its meaning and all? I just want to stay afloat and not drift with the tides crashing down somewhere I do not want to be. May be because I’ve been through it once and I do not want it to happen again?
I don’t know… its confusing..”, she trailed off.
He took a brief pause then stated, ” It is not confusing. It is very simple. Your dream is to survive in a graceful manner and live with simplest of joys without ever being intruded by calamities inflicted upon you due to decisions that may be wrong?”
Amazed at his description she added in a subdued tone, “That’s how it is…”
And they both stayed silent afterwards. She wasn’t sure if her answer was accurate but somehow she felt saying that as she really felt that way. He on the other hand was amazed on how remarkable she was… He always knew her silence and hesitation had more to it than meets the eyes..
“In life’s buzz I went through places and met people, I got indulged in chasing luxuries for my life… sometimes it became obsession, so much that I consoled my endless desires with Mercedes cars, puffy branded robes and diamonds and gold that I generously showered on acquaintances … I forgot the real joys in this race. I forgot how enchanting it is to enjoy a cup of coffee on cold mornings or how soothing it is to embrace your beloved… I forgot the simple joys and lost myself… And here I am today twenty years later, standing far far away from life’s ‘liveliness’. The heart warming joys and memories to cherish? there aren’t any. I have everything and yet I have nothing at all!”, he lit another cigarette when he finished his sentence. It was like burning the cigarette and turning it into ash would sooth the agony that burnt inside him.
The audience was awe struck. No one has seen this blunt side of him and it was the very first time he wasn’t superficial. He wasn’t plastic, someone glamorous basking in attention of millions for his heart throbbing personality… He was less Hollywood today… He was himself!
It was late September. The crisp wind started to blow and the mornings were more misty and more chilled. Like the spell of falls has broken and it was spreading through every inch of life present on earth. The windows were now shut in an unwelcoming way and the wind would knock on the window glass every now and then as if it were the late evening guest one was expecting…
The houses, you could see down the hill, stood in magnificent rows and glistened with warm glow of light as soon as the sun sank in the West and one could sense the fragrance of hot coco spreading in the environment and could hear the cracking of nut shells and people enjoying the taste of cashew, walnuts and peanuts!
Kids wore heavy coats and gloves and their cheeks were tinged in shade of pink and lips were cherry red! Everything and everyone seemed to be embracing the season turn and people were filling their hearts with warmth of love and affection as they sat by the fire place listening stories and enjoying the light conversations.
Everyone felt glee except her. She didn’t look much changed. The glum look did not go away. Rather she looked more pale and more cold. Lifeless as ever. The fact perhaps was that in her house the falls had lingered too long. Life had frozen to ice and cold spread in her soul… She was like that weird book with a very odd book cover and people would judge the cover first and leave, never really caring to read the profound words…
So she was struck by a very different fall… The falls that had lingered too long…