Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Mind of A Married Man

He was startled from his sleep as he yanked open his eyes to reality.

It had been another dream.

Lifting himself from the depths of slumber he sat up on his bed and looked out onto the window that glistened in the moonlight and the drops of rain. As the sound of thunder bellowed through his room, he looked on the other side of his bed and saw her sleeping.

She had always been there.

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept alone on his bed, staring at the stars or listening to a classic song. He would always have to tuck himself in and turn off the lamp because 'they' needed a good night's sleep for tomorrow.

He got out of bed and headed to another room. Inside the room in the corner was a crib that housed a little baby as he was fast asleep in his own world of dreams.

He would now always be there too.

He let his finger press on his wedding ring and make a deep impression on his skin, quietly thinking of the decisions he had made to be what he was today. Many years back, his life had been something else, he had been someone else. He would share his partners and share his cigarettes and today he was sharing the mortgage and sharing the bed. He was a pawn in the pre-defined plan of life where he was playing his part as it as written in the script. Most of us do it, he thought, why should he be any different ?

Soon, this thought would also vanish and he would be back in the mazes of life, too busy to worry of who he was and what he was doing. This all would be just another dream. But then he thought to himself, He was only going to live this one life, he would never be able to jump off a plane, due to her fear of heights nor would he ever travel to the hills, because of her motion sickness and he would never be able to be with another woman, well for obvious reasons. With these thoughts he marched to his room and decided. He was going to run away.

Run away from it all. Live the life of a hippie, a renegade, a tourist, whatver he wanted and with whoever he wanted. He would go climb Mt. Everest one day and even be able to watch the sun set in Japan and do all of this as a free man. As he marched on to the bathroom to pack his stuff, he stopped by a photograph. A photograph of himslef and her, holding their son on the day he was born. He looked at the glow on her face and the tiny face of his son. His eyes were barely opening and her's were full of tears. And as for him, he hadn't smiled like that in years. That day he was a father and a proud one too. He had something to live for. His shoulders dropped and his face lightened, his eyes felt weaker and his heart felt lighter, he was tired and weary, maybe someother day he would make his escape.

Quietly, making no sound to ensure the baby did not wake up, he slipped into his bed. And as he was about to head back to sleep to dismiss his thoughts and think of morning's breakfast, he kissed her on the cheek and said, 'Thank You' and then he closed his eyes.

If I were truthful to you ...

If I were truthful to you, I would tell you that it has been nice knowing you but I will never call once I've stopped seeing your face everyday. I would also tell you that your status messages on Facebook are lame and so are you. I would tell you that you are so full of yourself and hearing your name on other people's lips and minds gives you a rush that is replaced by no drug. You thrive on your image and gorge upon your admiration, going deeper into the abyss of your narcissism.

If I were truthful to you, I would tell you that you can't write a word of creativity and you're just a sham who wishes to be loved and you're ignorant of your flaws and your weaknesses. You have only been treated as a child because you only wish to be one, but little do you know that like every child has to grow old and lose the attention to a new one who is cuter, sweeter and maybe who can even write.

If I were truthful to you, I would tell that I love you sometimes but always never. I would tell you that I have dreams of another each day and I am carried to worlds where the Sun dances with the hay and the cure for cancer is not far away.

If I were truthful to you, I would tell you to stop living your life for one soul for there are many waiting to open yours, I would tell you that you can imagine your life alone and that you can be known by your name and not by your kin's. That it is not too late to dream and it is too early to lay down your lives.

If I were truthful to you, I would ask you to tell me the truth and make me feel like I deserved to know something and not just believe something.

Alas, I can't do that for the world will also know and think of me as a bad person...

So let truth not prevail
Let us hide in this veil
Be silent and shut our mouths
Till through the gaps,secrets pour out

Thursday, July 1, 2010

About the last night

Nostalgia creeps over me in spasms and leaves in a disarray of emotions as I witness the final hours of the darkness before the blinding light. Its a calm emotion that sweeps over my thoughts and one day all of these sights and sounds will be sweeped away for new ones. These 4 years, being confined to the dimension of 3m x 4.5m of space seemed to fly by and now as the last moments tick away, I can just feel gratitude for the time that I have wasted so happily in this place.

Wasted lives, wasted opportunities
With friends, with souls with unknown foes.
With sinking feelings and twinkling toes.

I hope the next occupant of this lair gives it as much as love as I have. It is a sad break up. Im glad that my room has no emotions, else I would have have leaks in every corner. My bags are still unpacked for I dont wish to leave this room, its a part of me as much I have been a part of it. When I am gone, the dust that remains will remember me too and so will the grills on the open window. The gloom of the red light will shine on till it is hurled into an oblivion. The crackling switchboard and the shrieking fan can bear witness to empty stands of the rack on my wall.

My adorned bottles of victory and bliss will guard this haven before they fall but till then their hollow shells can swell in peace. The echoes of the songs that shall never be played still linger in the holes where creatures reside and anthems to odes can keep their place before a tune can shame their face. And the view of the hills will be remembered as they took me to the forests and the stench of petrol in the scent of pine. Keeping these memories will keep me alive but one day they will vanish. And so it is useless to live on dialysis and pray for a miracle to save from the pills.

It is for this reason, I proclaim that this is the day I died.
Where it said on my grave:
"Let this be a reminder that there were times when humanity gave way to insanity."