The Darkest Nights

When you sink into the grey you realise how alone you are. 

You are always there for others. Lighting a candle in their darkest hours. And yet, you have seen the darkest nights; alone.

You give them your warm shoulders, not because you’re very kind. You’re there for them because you know what it feels to be abandoned and forgotten. 

People like you makes the world a little better place. You deserve much more than you know, and this world owes you.

Worship

Do you remember the time when you were on your knees and life was kicking the daylight out of you? You probably thought “That's it. I am never gonna survive this storm”. And yet you did.

You’ve surpassed the darkness. The void. The deafening hue and cries calling you into the abyss.

There were times when you crawled through a swamp. You felt suffocated, begging for a new breath. You must find humour in realising that the moment you were pushed to the edge, you rose, got up on your feet, and survived the inferno which could have burnt you to dust.

When was the last time you clenched your teeth and cried so hard that your voice died by the time it reached your mouth?
Was it a recent past or a forgotten one? 

If it is a recent past you would still have the feeling of exasperation and bliss that you get when you smell fresh rain; and if it is a forgotten past, well then it’s best be forgotten.

Have you been cursing your life, blaming it for conspiring against you, complaining how unfair it is? Aren’t you being unfair to yourself by doing so? How about for once, accept it as it is. Perhaps, your life would glare at you passionately and be kind at times.

How often have you blamed your heart for being naively stupid? Isn’t it responsible for most of your sorrows? Leaving you vulnerable. Compelling you to look for emotional support, which in actuality is the most lively myth there ever was.

There is a peculiarity about our heart though, if you haven’t noticed already. It might never forget the calamities befallen on it, breaking it to fragments; but it forgives. The forgiveness is not for anyone but for you. It cleanses your soul and prepares you for a new vibration.

Let's, for once, renounce our sorrows, smile at strangers, smile at our reflections, do favours without expecting something in return, ask well being of closed ones, muster the courage to listen to someones agony, walk slowly, hold hands, look someone in the eyes, pay heed to the surroundings, smell the flowers, run after the butterflies, let the rain drench us to the feet, ignore our critics, stop the comparisons, withdraw our noses from someones personal life.

For once, stand still in the open, spread your arms, and when the sunlight kisses every inch of your body, you would realise. The happiness that you seek so earnestly, had always been hidden within you. 

The Cunning

Hi, 

I know you can hear me, feel me. I am the one who stays as uninvited guest embedded in you. I lure you into the darkest pit, blinds you of the obvious, and envisions you of the things which will eventually hurt you, and break you into shards. I could topple your world. Making promises on your behalf, I show you dreams which you would never experience. I walk beside you as your companion but in reality I am your most dreadful enemy. I break you, bit by bit, until you cannot hold anymore. I hit you where it hurts until you cannot tolerate anymore. I stare at your sorry eyes and bring you to your knees. And then when you finally realise how your life has exploded into fragments, you would be too weak to gather the pieces. I am here, and will be, always.

Yours Sincerely,

Heart.

Picture courtesy: A writer and his thoughts, meaning in life. 

Before I fall out of love

That one night I lay awake wondering why I loved you. It was 5:20 in the morning and you were asleep. I couldn’t think of any reason strong enough to possess my mind and heart in such a manner that the mere thought of separation sent a chill down my spine. 

I couldn’t remember the day when we met, or the day when I fell for you. But I do remember the night when you possessed my soul, trapped it in your charm, and locked it within the fragile walls of your enigma.

Sad truth is, I know you don’t feel the same for me, and I’ve realised you never will. 

A distant and composed melody echoes in my mind, and tells me that one day you will feel for me. It is hope. Against all odds. 

A deafening whistle tries to suppress it, and tells me that one day it will wear away. It is reason. 

It tells me that my hope will stay alive only for so long, until it vanishes as a result of your apathy towards my love. Apathy is a strong word to describe your feelings towards me, but it’s what my heart says tonight. 

Before that happens, before I fall out of love, I wanted to pen down what I feel. Months from now, I might read this, to realise how I’d walked through a sandstorm once, and survived. I wanted to make a note of my feelings before I stop feeling anymore. 

There was a time, when I’d built an iron wall around me before you found your way through it. You’ve sneaked your way inside, not to tear me down to ashes, I suspect, but to give me memories I might cherish?

But memories are not always pleasant. Sometimes it is just the opposite. It is a reflection of all the things that meant a lot to me but not to you. A reflection of all the things we could have accomplished, but we’re afraid to. A reflection of the words unsaid, actions untaken, and feelings not shared. 

Imagine going into a room full of fond memories shared by the two of you. It soothes you, carves a pleasant smile, eases your mind, until you realise that you’re the only one who visits. 

I’ve not fallen in love with your beauty. I’ve not fallen in love with your jovial nature. Neither with your enchanting smile, nor with your shining eyes. I’ve fallen in love with your presence, and your perfect imperfections. Everything else is secondary.

Your presence around me makes me light as bird, floating above, oblivious of any stress or sadness. And it shatters my heart to realise that it’s just temporary. 

Before I fall out of love, I needed to confess how I loved tucking your hair behind your ears which kept falling in front of your face. How I drown in immense pleasure when you rested your head on my shoulder. How I felt like walking in paradise when you walk beside me holding your hand in mine. 

The way you tilt your head and speak in hush tone at 3 in the morning sitting beside me under a tree, I can keep looking at you until eternity. 

It is in your sweet smile that I have found solace. It warms my heart, and sends an impulse in my veins. 

Looking at you, I feel as if I am looking at the sunset towards the horizon, when a mesmerizing breeze caress my body. Though it feels soulful and looks beautiful, I couldn’t endure the distance that separates us, and when the sun finally sets, I am left alone in the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

You, my dear, have made me break every protocol, every promise I have ever made to myself. You came into my life like a hurricane and demolished my rules like a house of cards. 

All I was left with, were ashes which once were feelings disguised in the form of the smiling mask I wore everyday. 

Before I fall out of love, I'd to tell you that I’d imagined my life with you, living under the shadow of your radiance. I’d imagined myself talking about my scars and finding warmth in your consolation. 

There are no two ways of saying this, but, before I fall out of love, I’d like you to know that you’ve consumed my heart and one day I would like it back. 

I would lock it within an impregnable fortress never to be let out. Chain it with memories, and shut it behind the doors of my outright disgust.

Victim

A young, starving, disheveled, foul-smelling, penny-less bloke; with unkempt hair, sunken eyes, and dry mouth, was seconds away to take a leap from the ledge and put an end to his misery, once and for all, when his eyes blinked looking at the most beautiful painting of his life, twenty feet below. Its creator stood tall admiring the marvel he created, regardless of his amputated arms.

Suicide

There is a common incentive that lures our minds and hearts. Something which sometimes makes us believe in the impossible and yet at times drags us so low that we become blind of the obvious. Are we not slaves of our emotions and perspectives? At times when someone feel so euphoric that he can hope to count those shimmering stars shining through the darkness, another feel so blue that he could barely notice the radiance of the moon. Our actions makes no exception whatsoever. While at times the direst consequences does not prove enough to stir your mind, another proves so dismantled that you get annoyed even by the slightest misfortune.

As he ascended towards the edge of the hanging bridge two hundered feet above the ground he recalled paying tha cab driver, leaving his wallet and all belongings behind. He recalled walking through the slender streets towards his final destination with a sole thought in mind. Over the time he had forged his mind to fight his insights, to kill all moral obligations that could sway him from doing what he was about to. His overtired shaky legs trembled towards the ledge. He was there now, gazing into the falling dusk with his opaque vision. He was determined but scared nonetheless.

It is time now, he thought. It was time to put an end to all his misery. Time to confront his maker and maybe ask all the questions piled up during the course of his miserable life, an envious and partial life. He looked down to his abode, the solid stretch which was about to embrace the last of his breaths. A final flash of memories came running through his mind. The faces of his close ones, his father and his mother, his two year old daughter, Minni,  came in a series of sequence. Her laughter vibrated in his eardrums and he saw a blurred reflection of her adorable smile in the sky above. He longed for the soft touch of her tiny fingers over his face, to push her weightless body in the air and then grab her, only to hear her gleeful laughter. He felt uneasy then. He couldn't conjure the image of his departed wife. His cold body wished to have brought his wallet which contained her picture. He hoped her daughter would be strong enough to face the nightmare. But, he had no choice.

The stretch was empty. There was no one to witness his demise. He looked around himself. The bridge was almost deserted except an elderly man standing at a distance.

At a safe distance and unable to interrupt when he decides to fly, he analysed.

At the edge of his tenure he closed his wet eyes and prompted forward. He conjured every possible reason that had compelled him to do so. He fought his desire and inclined his mind to focus on the reasons to commit the deed rather than stepping back. For an instant he felt life in him when a cold mesmerising breeze touched his pale face. The sun was melting in the horizon leaving a crimson canvas throughout the sky. The darkness was prevailing.

He opened his eyes, prepared to step into the darkness, to dissolve into the abyss. His sweating palm grabbed into a fist and gathered each small iota of courage that he needed. But then something happened. He looked sideways over his shoulder to find the elderly man standing next to him, his weird confused look gnawing at him. He felt a chill through his spine. The man was standing next to him and if he decided to take the leap then the man might interrupt him now.

"What are you looking at?", he asked inspecting his shabby attire.

" You ", responded the man, " wondering which situation dire enough compelled you to the edge where you are standing now"

"That's none of your business. What do you even know about me?"

"Nothing, yet everything", the elderly man crossed his arms and looked towards the horizon.

" What does that mean?", he gave a startling confused look.

" I come here every single day. Each day with a sole purpose . To end the suffering that life inflicts on me every hour. I may not know anything about you, but believe me when I say that I know exactly how you must be feeling now "

"Then you must not stop me from doing this"

"That is exactly why I should, son"

"What? But you are here for the same reason I suppose?"

" I was. As I do everyday. But not now", the man turned facing him and looked into his lifeless eyes, " When I arrived here minutes ago I was determined, but when I saw it, I just couldn't "

"Saw what?"

"Look beyond", the man gestured towards the setting sun "What do you see?"

"I see, darkness"

"Look deeper, son."

He returned his gaze towards the horizon. The sun was almost set revealing just a small circumference of itself. The last shining crimson aurora was about to be invaded by the blackness. He tried to look deeper, to see what the man has seen. And just when he reached the peak of his patience, prepared to give up, his vision turned transparent and he could see more clearly.

Scattered through the land beyond him, he saw the uneven imperfect city stretched all over. His eyes widened and at an instant he understood what the man was referring to, the tiny sprinkles of light emerging from every corners and structures depicting its battle against the darkness. The faint glimpse of the vision before him left him flabbergasted. The dimly lit city stretched all over gave him a clear view of hope and patience. The night where evil lurks in its hour of darkness, the light stood tall illuminating the snaking streets, crowded homes and sleeping gardens until the sun shines up again and takes over again.

At the hour of darkness when the chips are down, all it is needed is for you is to hold on, and hold strong. Because sooner or later the light will shine again, the sun will rise again, the birds will sing again.

He turned his head to find the man, but he was gone. At a distance, he saw a cobbler waiting while his son tried to sweep the thread across the needle's rear in the light of the low lit candle. When he succeeded he handed the needle to his father. He pressed the needle against the ductile shoe sole and started his part of the work. While they were busy in their labour, a small girl, probably his daughter was busy cooking.

How did they came unscathed by the world's torturous reality? he wondered.

"No", he said to himself, " I've made my mind. I can't go back now."

He looked down towards his destination for one last time. He saw life, swarming through the streets. Closing his eyes he took a deep thought. And then with a warm deep sigh he took the step... Backward.