"Ruminations on Mortality"

                                        

                                                                Death...How should I define you? I can’t picturise in what form and in what way you may silently steal me by whispering in my ears. I know for obvious reasons that you are the end result of the slips and betrayal of my life.  

       Aren't you acquainted with life? Of course you are. Because I think it is the road of life that finally leads to your calm castle of clueless obscurity. You are well aware that the road of life is not just a plain path. It is an adventure. An adventure that has many possessions, hope, longing, passion, expectations, worries, anxiety, love, lust, concern and a lot more of a fancy materialistic world. Why would you want to ambush people into your kingdom after this fiesta of life?

      Are you an entity or a delusion? My body doesn't shiver at your thought nor am I afraid to see your countenance. A blemished and strained life would never be afraid to feel you. Before your dull shroud could cover my mortal self and run away to your realm, I would want to stop you for a moment if you would allow the last wish of an insatiated soul.

      My youth may be glum but my heart pumps blood. My eyes may have lost its shine but it saw the world to a level of 24 years. Your low voice reverberates in my ears. They are profound and surreptitious but they don’t unburden me the answers to the reservations of a scarred life. I can hear you here and there when my musings fall on in a steady progression.

     I know that once you will come to me without sounding harsh and invite me to your territory to unveil yourself and your being.

"Why is this LIFE?"

                                                         

                                              Is there something like fancy and reality? I don't discover myself unpracticed or a little child to pose this question or a progression of inconveniences that frequents me. What is life? What am I doing here in this world, why would it be advisable for me to be disturbed by episodes of incidents?

Standing under the vale of a thousand thoughts and questions, for which no person in the religious order or someone who is brilliant enough can satiate my soul, which thirsts gravely for answers. What is the use and value even if I am educated to the extreme? So far, I am not inspired by people, or by their preaching, nor books. All pen down their perceptions as they coexist with encounters.

Concepts, entities or attributes like happiness, extreme joy and delight, people, socializing, care and concern for others, religious teachings and so and so on haven’t found place in the pages of my life and if something in a small measure remains, are getting blurred day after day. As I live each day of this alleged “LIFE”, I am a completely dissatisfied person, living for reasons unknown and with no intention to multiply or find love.

I just have an option open in front of me, "Conceived once, so need to live till I fade away into blankness".

Each and every day appears as the same with no clear cut answers as to why this life is exciting or should be appealing? But I still have no regrets or complaints.

Touched by Loneliness - Part II

                                                                      

                                                  He woke up from the slumber he was taken into a few hours back. Indeed it wasn't rest, yet the over measurement of the pills he took at clear interims. His hands and legs measured substantial more than normal. He felt as though those have turned into a burden for him to move along. His eyes stuck on something glued on the glass on the almirah of his room. Before he could get genuinely included and be lost in that, he shaked it off and got up to clean up. The humidity in the room has seriously affected him; making him uneasy now and then. The semi circular shaped windows expressed their disapproval for natural breeze and light getting into his room. The golden pothos plant on the bookshelf seems to be on the verge of facing serial killing for no reason. He felt as though the entire world was going to crumple before him yet something made him affirm that he would unquestionably fall before the world would.

He got up from the bed and walked to the cupboard. As he swiftly took a towel, something fell on the floor and he couldn't have cared less to examine it either. Sometime in the past he was so keen on keeping things and his tangibles in his brooding spot at exact positions. However things have changed and he himself has and that routine moved in pace with his life.

The icy water from the shower fell like sharp needles and he felt that it was puncturing into his body. He felt the sensation but it was not, any sort of afflicting pain because he believed that once when the mental orientation of a person goes wayward and doesn't get along, then no physical bruises could hurt.

“Yes, it was true. Life can often be beguiling. It just takes an unexpected turn from nowhere. Even though some things are preplanned and plotted in life, it won’t show its fair side. The reality of the matter is that on more than one occasion; significantly even more than that, we are broken down in life before we are finished with anything. The seriousness and depth that it greets some people in life are different whereas it is funny on others.”

Philosophies couldn't add to the state. In fact all he knew was that he still tasted the bitter wine from the chalice that life thrust upon him forcefully.

He remained under the shower for a considerable length of time and his train of thoughts was bothered by a calling bell.

(to be continued)