Sometimes I love the idea of hate,
I like to disappoint at things I am the best.
I am a smirker laughing inside,
a hard worker, shirking outside.
My best memories I can’t recall,
A permanent tattoo long erased and gone.
Safe to say that danger is what I crave,
I am a nomad fixated with a place.
Bright lights frighten my dark soul,
darkness is a ray of hope for me.
I see things more clearly at night,
daylight a sight I despise.
My open mind is locked to your point of view,
My curiosity stops at the what my mind does not know.
Travelling for me is sitting at one place,
Talking for me is silence in a crowded place.
Sanity is being sanely insane.
Living is dragging a lifeless life all around.
Opposites, you will say.
I will say – no, they are the same; just put together differently.
I was a happy, confident, proud 30-year old till 10:30 pm on February 12, 2016 when I saw my father – frozen, with lifeless eyes – on bed. A couple of hours later he was gone for good hopefully to a better place. What initially “felt” like numbness (yes, an oxymoron) turned into a vortex of emotions –– hopelessness punctuated with sobs, interspersed with morbid thoughts of the end of everything, followed by a sense of relief that his suffering was much less than it could have been (he died of cardiac arrest). This, ensued with the idea that may be he could have been saved. May be…
His death is something that I had never thought of. I took his presence, his life, his body and his breath for granted; his stooped shoulders, his slow gait, and his salt-and-pepper hair for granted. This soul-crushing experience has been traumatic for me and has also taught me:
I will be more alive than dead
As comes this day to an end
I shall not despair or wallow in grief
And strengthen my resolve and belief
That hope will also be there on my mind
That I need to be more kind
On myself and the people around me
And set all the negativity free
Happiness – different shades of yellow
Like a glimpse of a yellow submarine
The zesty zest of a yellow lemon
Or the cheerfulness of a bright yellow sun
Melancholy – shades of black and grey
Like the eerie calm of a black night
Or a forlorn grey overcast sky
Black as the dilated pupils of an addict high
Anger – all hues of menacing red
Like the frightful crimson of vampire eyes
Or vermilion gushing out of a dead
Morbid molten lava entering the river bed
Wisdom told the mind to stay put; wanderlust asked it to keep wandering. And wondering.
Curiosity asked it to keep itself open; knowledge asked it to trap what all it came across as useful.
Meditation asked it to embrace tranquility; creativity commanded it to be in a perpetual state of chaos.
Anger asked it to destroy itself; divinity prayed for its preservation.
And the body asked for it life-long companionship.