Loneliness is the poverty of soul. I have had heard that somewhere, and was observing now. A silent roar was running through my body producing a deafening silence. Things are moving in front of my eyes in one moment, and in other moment they are still. A chaos was running through my room , things were falling apart. Strong wind gushed into my room and it became pitch dark. A thunder growled heavily and I cowered with fear and closed my eyes and ears, and shrieked. Calm down! Peace!
It was all silent again. Order was back into the place. What was it then? An anarchy. A constant beat was in process , slowly growing in magnitude. Eyes were moist and nose seemed to shrink. All the parts were together in this grief. I conjured up the days bygone. Seemed like an age bygone. My growing up in my hometown. My days in hostel. My days in my hometown, and my days here. All of them get mixed. What is it that I feel low for? Regrets. Regrets. Thats the only common thread in the events. A life of regrets , since I was born. But which one is it now , for which I lament with such intensity. Walking through the rubble of broken dreams and promises feels like wading through a swap. Each of them holding me up. Today was bad and tomorrow would be worse. But why is that which is in yesterday, throwing me in ashes. Let me jerk off the filth that I have gathered on me , walking through those years. But it feels so heavy. I couldn't shrug it off. They are too big in size.
Lost in them , I feel my senses getting numbed. Sleep overtakes me in some time and feel the peace of being what I am . Joy of being alive. Several hours pass this way, and I am lost into my peaceful thoughts when all of a sudden a memory comes ,stalking for me, and I get up with a shout. Its still dark around me , darkness which has so many images floating into it. I close my eyes with fear and cover up myself with a blanket to escape them. Sleep tries to get me in some time and I pray this dark night to end soon and end this cycle of anxiety. Nebulous thoughts cross my mind and I get lost in my dreams, not knowing , when again I would be forced to wake up.
3 comments:
poverty of souls , I would rather put it up like WW .... "Bliss of solitude" ...
well ... was this something imaginative or based on facts ? If yes ... y rest on laurels ;) ?
It's like as the saying goes ... if you throw your problems and I throw mine , and were to pick from the heap , I am sure you would pick yours .... :) ...
@Radhika
Solitude is bliss, not loneliness. :)
Description was an artistic interpretation of facts.
And I didn't quite get your comment, "
If yes ... y rest on laurels ;) ?" Can you please affirm whether it meant , "Why eulogize your pain".
No , the description seemed to me like an account of past events that has raised tempest inside oneself , drenching one in grief and still the person seems to hold on to it so tightly , finding solace in it caressing it and living in it ..and the comment was a common philosophy of telling "overcome it " and nothing else ... ;)
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