Sunday, January 19, 2014

SILENCE THAT KILLS ME- A CHAPTER FROM “LIFE”.



It is sometimes so important and sometimes so difficult to put into words what you are feeling and beating the very urge to control your words. Every now and then amidst the busyness of the affairs of the world, I try to understand the intricacies of life but terribly fail at trying to formulate a whole picture out of the scenario maybe because the pasts and the presents hold and blur my vision into the bigger picture.

This constraint of self-expression makes me want to explode, make me feel like running away to some place that is unlike this, to somewhere that doesn't impart the same feeling. But, what I tend to forget all the time is that you can run from people, you can run from situations but you cannot run away from yourself.  Realization of this doesn't pop as a view in the distant part of my mind, it is out of self-expression that I learned to realize this undeniable fact about myself.

I have always wondered how silence seeps deep in my soul. On a place crowded with people with happy, concealed and pretentious faces, who seem like enjoying something pleasant about the aura, I on the contrary feel the same darkness creeping into me. I can very well hear the howling of the people in that crowded room, the music so loud that you can’t hear anything, the sounds of the shoes tapping across the floor, the phones ringing, the bursts of laughter and also the noises in the inside of me, shouting at the highest pitch yet none except me can hear it. And still amidst that noisy everything there is silence; Calm, quiet, settling silence. Although this silence seems to be comforting sometimes but I've never really liked it, especially in a crowded room full of zealous people, drinking and dancing, celebrating something merry out of life even if they lack one. For that fraction of moment I tend to shut my mind to stop thinking about anything but soon thereafter my mind invites the same ride to the land of thoughts, observing and analyzing each of the people around, trying to have a glance of their soul by what they say, what they believe and what they project themselves to be.  No matter how diverse things may look, they all somehow have only one lesson to give that Life is an illusion.  

And the realization of the very fact ends all the urge of having a pseudo merry making since it feels like an illusion in itself, an illusion that holds nothing beneath the sparkling paper.

And then my eyes turn to the other side of life. I see the darkness filled sky with scattered stars trying to shine and ebb away the darkness in their immediate vicinity but somehow they can’t beat the clouds that lie low and still cover the sky. It makes me feel that standing too far and up in the row can cloud your visibility to the world but nothing can still cloud the darkness that seeps in your sky. And then my eyes turned to look at the things nearby.  I saw Small pups playing with each other in the garden mud, unaware of the complicated life, or maybe more aware than I am because they’re struggling for survival in this unsheltered life. No matter how complicated things may be but they still manage to live it.

Considering the same aspects of my life, standing on the terrace of a multi-storey building I was watching the Noisy traffic on the road. Every vehicle with different color, size n shape, moved by different masters yet in one direction and each one of them in a hurry to reach their destination trying to overtake each other amidst the crowded road. How metaphorically this scenario seemed to have explained the essence of life and the illusion of life. What nobody realized that each person had to travel their own journey which was not connected to the other, and yet they all fought for the same way in a hurry to reach their destination early.  Amidst all that noisy traffic was the same silence that inevitably existed in the aura making me question the need for a noisy traffic in life.

I wonder if the life is a quest of happiness or is it a struggle of fulfilling promises we make. Either way neither of the two makes us happy or imparts the contentment our soul seeks.