Autobiography of a Chicken

 Note ; This one is not intended to hurt any one's choices or preferences. These are purely my thoughts and you  have every right to differ and yes i am bringing no religion fight over here.                

                 Oho I wasn’t weighty enough to be sold as an egg, so I came into weird place called  world. What I could see were thousand of grownups chickens  around me but no one whom I can call my mom, I was lost and  scared, and finally  I assumed that ,’This must be the most painful phase of my life and will be over soon’.

                 I was taken to a little suffocated warm place where I was stuffed with thousands of other Chiclets .Just got enough space for my feet to stay on ground, feeling congested and terrified, I thought that,’ This must be the most painful phase of my life and will be over soon’.

                   Days passed by and I was taken out of that foul smelly space and was kept in a more foul smelling claustrophobic cage which was just my size, wherein i can’t move a wing, just used to wait for hours for that tiny little tap placed above my head to dispense out that liquid which I had heard will make me grow faster and stronger. And bored of waiting for that yucky shity thing, I thought, ‘definitely yes, this is the most difficult phase of my life and will be over soon’.

                 One day suddenly I was taken for a ride and I was ecstatic than ever, the fresh air outside was like a very new pleasurable experience to me but soon I was with the other one (one of my neighbor) tied to the holder behind the bike by our single limb. My face was in front of the carburetor and even though I was breathing some black air but I was happy as I was busy watching many new colors around . While the smoke was choking me to death, I thought, ‘let’s wait till bike stops maybe if I wouldn’t die this most painful phase of my life will be over’.

                  Soon I found myself in a cage with 10 others stuffed together like cotton in a quilt …….’it’s night lets sleep’, I thought and for that I have to just close my eyes. Next day I was woken with a screeching sound and I don’t know what happened to him he was with me in the farm and came here with me why he was taken into the room and what’s that sound , I was feeling very weak  and suffocated,  pee and poop of all those from above cage was making me wet and dirty and I thought ’This must be the most painful phase of my life will be over soon’  . But I forgot the agony as soon as I got my delicious meal which was so much needed. 

                  

           There were lights and people around were happy, I heard that there was some huge festival, I enjoyed when jubilant peoples were watching me with eagerness as if I am special. Sometime in that day, I saw at the garbage bag and I saw his eyes, my partner of the agony, his eyes on his head …but where was the body?? , in a moment A child came to me and start playing with me “father let me take this one he is cute, he will be my pet”…the shaken soul of mine was only thinking,’ please take me and soon this most painful phase of my life will be over’.

             And ohaa as if god was hearing my anguished request, they took me  out and I heard “jhatka or halal”, someone asked, “halal”, a prompt reply came  and I thought yes yes halal let me go with them, no more I want to be in this scary place . While the helper took me to the same room I heard the Child’s upset voice “Papa it will be more painful”, and father consoled “beta halal is what we should eat, it’s healthier and is allowed”.

                I felt a weird numbness, shock and my soul was drenched with horror  “eat, eat….ohh they will be eating me”. A very little time was given to me to fearfully look at that sharp blade  before I felt it in real and I didn’t know why they cut my neck to half and threw me in a blue drum …I was shouting “common I am alive …ahhh”. I was soaked with pain and  in that pool of blood of many other…..and I finally felt the feeling of the most painful phase of my life, I can’t open my eyes as I was drenched with blood oozing out of my neck and that unbearable pain. I kicked, I struggled for nothing, as my limbs weren’t able to fix my sliced neck. And finally I lay there all wet and red dipped in my own blood and facing the roof I was thinking of asking god…”why? My death their festivity?”. With my eyes closing without any of my conscious control the answer struck my mind, “oohhh Yes, the most painful phase of my life will now finally be over”.

 P S:   The silence again took dominance, calmness persisted once again and festivities continued as usual with his death obstructing nothing. Happy they ate his body full of pain, agony and anguish that he felt during his whole lifetime. Life what he was, soul what he had, was lower than our own. The decision to bring him to this world was that of god, but his death was decided by someone’s desire to feast and enjoy.

Philosophy Of a Guilty Conscience

Philosophy Of a Guilty Conscience.....part1

(This short story will surely explain the meaning of the name of my blog "Philosophy of a guilty conscience".)

Dec 1, 2017 It was her daughter’s 18^th birthday and while slapping her daughter, the ”philosophies of her guilty conscience “ were at their brilliant display .Even after her daughter disappeared behind the curtains of the room, she was standing there silent in absence of any  thoughts , emotions or sensations, a numbness persisted in her mind and body, being a single mom must have made her this strong.

           

            With a numb thoughtless mind she made herself move to a secluded place, which she called her room. Where there was no one to judge her except she herself. Sitting by the side of the bed, she saw her dirty reflection on the mirror embedded on her dressing table . Even though her sagging skin and recently appered wrinkles maintained her in the present, the events of the day were dragging her forcefully to her haunted past. For almost last two decades she avoided engaging in those memories, then why now?, but like a pus filled blister has to burst someday exposing the dirt that was rotting in it for days, today she wasn’t able to control the bursting thoughts of hers exposing her ugly past, Earlier her conscious mind made decision for her but today it lie dormant .

           

             Multiple loud whispers were echoing from every corner of the room “Murderer, you killer, you slut”… ohhh she felt like, her ears were bleeding. She blocked her ears by pressing her fist against them, as hard as she could and  in a second, again the dominance of a deaf silence wrapped her existence.

             

             Her lump body fell on bed, like the life force has been sucked out of it. The blank eyes, while meditating on the centre of the rotating fan, projected the flashes of her past. The grand 18^th birthday, the lights, the guest, the cold warm ambience. “No stop!!” , Her conscious mind resisted, but the part of her brain that posses the power of decision making, seems to be paralyzed.

              Dec 1, 1998, 10 pm to be exact she completed  18 years of her life in this world. Possibly the happiest person on earth, a single child of most loving parents, who cared for her like, she were a delicate china. Huge enormous wealth that her father had gathered over time, to let her enjoy every possible worldly pleasure. A boyfriend, that she was soon planning to get married and she felt that the day was most appropriate to make that announcement. Eagerly, waiting for him she was becoming a little bit impatient as he never showed up till now, as planned was 9pm.she felt exhausted after trying his non responsive mobile, thousands of times in last one hour.

               

              After hearing a screeching Sound of a car stopping in front of the villa, she ran to the terrace expecting ritesh and what she noticed was a news channel’s caravan. She looked as her father getting depressed while having a conversation with those coming out of the van and in matter of 4 to 5 minutes many of them were there. She saw her father panicking. On stairs, while running down to the gate she heard the sirens, “police but why”, she thought. Reaching the gate a crazy frenzy knocked her down. Flashes, literally thousands of them made her blind for a moment , the father pushed her behind himself , many policemen were man handling the reporters ………nikita where do you study? , were you there when…. ?, is it true that you are involved….. ?? She couldn’t make, any sense out of those questions, all she knew was that maybe it’s a dream, a bad dream.

             Police controlling the situation hastily took the family inside the house and then what she heard,  actually saw,  was something made her melt in her own shadow, her throat choked, she felt molten glass is being poured into her delicate ears, the air was absent from her breath,  , a watery layer developed on the surface of her eyes blurring her perfect vision, her feet trembled like weak bamboo and for once she thought maybe it’s better if she were just a body, a dead body……………………………….

Philosophy Of a Guilty Conscience.....part 2

            “I love you nikita uuhhhh kiss me baby….kiss me … ahhh is this a kiss?  Let me show you how to make love….. “  ,

             The visuals of his manhood inside hers and the sounds of her moaning created a nostalgic vacuum around the place where standing was she, alone she, guilty she. The MMS playing was pretty much enough to explain the happenings of the hour. All the eyes except her parents were shifting on her and on the television screen at the random intervals.  Definitely she was the star of the day. What  undesirably fetched  her out of her self-created vacuum was the sound of the television crashing on the shining marble floor and  the broken glass choked  her throat, when the “how can you do this?” question of her mother’s entered her ears.

                       The realization of being naked made her run as fast as she could to her room. Confused,  how to respond  to the situation she took the back door to the ritesh’s  house, because it is what her conscience was telling her to do,  while on her way to the auto stand the replay of the last few minutes of her life overwhelmed her mind , made her run faster , faster…more  faster. She sat in an auto with a nonidentified rush. Without a tear, as she was considered to be strong, confident and intelligent by most of those around her, she directed the auto driver. A blink hope of ‘Everything will be alright’ made her eyes dry, her mind calculating the future possibilities at a rapid rate. When she reached she thought she had returned to her own house, the crowd and the vans. How to reach him, she was desperate to be with him, she took out her mobile, its home, and 15 missed calls. ‘When?’ she thought. Returning to the task at hand she called ritesh, once, twice, finally on third call he picked up.

                     As the sound of love entered her ears she broke and wept, silently…., feeling the crowd gathered will notice.  She wept hysterically after adjusting her to the corner of an abandoned pillar. Her week legs weren’t allowing her to stand. 

Controlling her silent sobs she spoke, “Ritesh I am outside your house I need to talk, how to…..”

The not so complete sentence concluded with ritesh’s voice “return back nikita”.

 Ambiguity of, that she may have heard wrong, she asked “what?”

“Return back to your home” , same words came back but in a more rude way.

“I can’t, I urgently want to talk to you…lets our parents meet, we will get married, everything will be alright, as before”, she spoke with a hope.

“I can’t marry you ….no one at my home will be ready nor am I”, a straight reply came.

”what!  Common it’s not the time to ….”

”I am serious nikita, please return back to your home and for god sake forget the relationship between us .Atleast after all this shit…”, he sounded someone else to her today.

”How can you? ….you love me na…didn’t you”, she felt a strange desperation and an irritating frustration.

 “Our relationship was just a fling and I have decided to get married where my parents would be arranging”, he said without a pause, not even a slight tint of hesitation.

    With the hanging up of the phone and with that one obvious thought, the last thin thread of her so called eternal love affair was broken. “How the video got out in first place???”.

                      She felt a sensation of dead calmness now, no desperation, no frustration, just a complete numbness of her bdy, mind and soul.  She kept mobile back into the pocket of her denim and as she walked back to the auto she came in, without any fear of being getting recognized she uncovered her face,

     ”the girl….from the mms”, a shout followed her.

                      A overwhelming crowd came running up to her .As her vision turned to the direction of that, on the balcony was ritesh, she looked into his shameless eyes before the camera flashes made her blind….her vision blurred, her body felt limp….while falling, the single silent sound that surrounded her out of those hundreds of sounds was, “I love you nikita, we will have a great life together”.

                     She woke up and felt relieved that the dream is over, “thank god it wasn’t true”, she thought. Her smile fainted when she found that she had woken up in her uncle’s bedroom,  her mother and few other relatives surrounding her but avoiding her to look at her directly. A lady doctor turning to her mother said, something which she least wanted to hear,  

“Mrs. Singh we have to take her to the hospital for further treatment, but I am suggesting not to go for abortion, at this stage”

Nikita stood up shocked from her bed.

 Doctor replied to the question that her inquiring eyes were asking, “You are pregnant nikita”,

With a motionless body she looked at her mother who was still avoiding a direct eye contact with her. Just after an hour the news of her pregnancy was on the news channels too, extensive coverage, people glued to the story, the girl was a celebrity now.

                    Finally it was decided to export her to Nepal, where one of her distant relative resided.

 She lived in a secluded room and was treated like how she deserved to be, as per her. She was getting all news updates from her aunts over enthusiastic 15 year old daughter rhea, who met her secretly at night when her own parents were asleep…….and in just one month she got every news she would ever had wanted …….how ritesh was arrested, got bail and a huge engagement announced with his father’s fellow politician’s daughter …….how her parents were harassed by police and so called local political goons or so called moral police…. How one fine morning their poisonous dead bodies were found lying  in their bedroom……….how it was decided for her to see a physiatrist……and decision of  staying over in Katmandu in some other secluded house where she will be incapable of influencing  rhea……

                   On her 19^th birthday……………sitting on a park bench looking at her newly born daughter, she thought  how her conscience led her life to a path where she never thought she would be ever. She stood up with her baby girl glued tightly against her breasts. Strands of her hairs flowing with the gentle air ,with a deep breath she start walking back into the darkness, to the home where she just had slapped her daughter tia who just turned 18 And from whose school bag she found out a pack of condoms.

                          She stood up, splashed some cold water  on her swelly face, took the tea prepared by her to her daughter’s room , putting down the cup on her study table, what she also kept was the 3 diaries filled with her guilty life, her wasted  youth ,the  solitude ,the  pain ,the  courage, some open and close secrets, some confessions .  She went to the balcony over viewing into the dusky sky line and with a deep breath suddenly she felt relaxed , the pus was released from the blister that was long rotting …the soothing was in process……her daughter came after almost 2 hours   and seated herself beside her mom. Looked her for a minute and put her repenting head on her mother’s shoulder as she tried to caress her head with her feeble hands……the emotional dam was broken down and tia  wept , hugging her  mother who brought her up with such a hardships….she was overwhelmed as she knew that her daughter have understood the philosophies of her guilt conscience. .darkness of night was eloping their lightened body, making them invisible as one …...one soul…..she and her daughter.

            PS : Conscience of a person may feel that sometimes something is right to its core at a point but  all pros and cons should be calculated by the mind so that the repercussions that follow doesn’t load our conscience with the guilt it never could shack off. Mind and soul are made for working with each other to make any decision and the decision that only any single one takes in others absence can be DANGEROUS.

Philosophy Of a Guilty Conscience.....part1

(This short story will surely explain the meaning of the name of my blog "Philosophy of a guilty conscience" the whole story was taking time so i am posting the part which is ready.)

Dec 1, 2017 It was her daughter’s 18^th birthday and while slapping her daughter, the ”philosophies of her guilty conscience “ were at their brilliant display .Even after her daughter disappeared behind the curtains of the room, she was standing there silent in absence of any  thoughts , emotions or sensations, a numbness persisted in her mind and body, being a single mom must have made her this strong.

           

            With a numb thoughtless mind she made herself move to a secluded place, which she called her room. Where there was no one to judge her except she herself. Sitting by the side of the bed, she saw her dirty reflection on the mirror embedded on her dressing table . Even though her sagging skin and recently appered wrinkles maintained her in the present, the events of the day were dragging her forcefully to her haunted past. For almost last two decades she avoided engaging in those memories, then why now?, but like a pus filled blister has to burst someday exposing the dirt that was rotting in it for days, today she wasn’t able to control the bursting thoughts of hers exposing her ugly past, Earlier her conscious mind made decision for her but today it lie dormant .

           

             Multiple loud whispers were echoing from every corner of the room “Murderer, you killer, you slut”… ohhh she felt like, her ears were bleeding. She blocked her ears by pressing her fist against them, as hard as she could and  in a second, again the dominance of a deaf silence wrapped her existence.

             

             Her lump body fell on bed, like the life force has been sucked out of it. The blank eyes, while meditating on the centre of the rotating fan, projected the flashes of her past. The grand 18^th birthday, the lights, the guest, the cold warm ambience. “No stop!!” , Her conscious mind resisted, but the part of her brain that posses the power of decision making, seems to be paralyzed.

              Dec 1, 1998, 10 pm to be exact she completed  18 years of her life in this world. Possibly the happiest person on earth, a single child of most loving parents, who cared for her like, she were a delicate china. Huge enormous wealth that her father had gathered over time, to let her enjoy every possible worldly pleasure. A boyfriend, that she was soon planning to get married and she felt that the day was most appropriate to make that announcement. Eagerly, waiting for him she was becoming a little bit impatient as he never showed up till now, as planned was 9pm.she felt exhausted after trying his non responsive mobile, thousands of times in last one hour.

               

              After hearing a screeching Sound of a car stopping in front of the villa, she ran to the terrace expecting ritesh and what she noticed was a news channel’s caravan. She looked as her father getting depressed while having a conversation with those coming out of the van and in matter of 4 to 5 minutes many of them were there. She saw her father panicking. On stairs, while running down to the gate she heard the sirens, “police but why”, she thought. Reaching the gate a crazy frenzy knocked her down. Flashes, literally thousands of them made her blind for a moment , the father pushed her behind himself , many policemen were man handling the reporters ………nikita where do you study? , were you there when…. ?, is it true that you are involved….. ?? She couldn’t make, any sense out of those questions, all she knew was that maybe it’s a dream, a bad dream.

             Police controlling the situation hastily took the family inside the house and then what she heard,  actually saw,  was something made her melt in her own shadow, her throat choked, she felt molten glass is being poured into her delicate ears, the air was absent from her breath,  , a watery layer developed on the surface of her eyes blurring her perfect vision, her feet trembled like weak bamboo and for once she thought maybe it’s better if she were just a body, a dead body……………………………….

A blameworthy Suhagraat

            It was their suhagraat. The mansion was dazzling, like thousand suns burning at once, their hearts were also burning but were dark, as a moonless night and the air in the room was heavy, like a concrete slab. She was on the left side of the bed and he was on the right, deciding the appropriate words to say.  She couldn’t swallow her spit and he was feeling hard to move, a strange numbness persisted.

             They had sex, a partial sex, just one penetration made him sick, and the veil was off. His errection was lost as he saw no red fluid ….”Aren’t you a virgin?” he questioned, sound filled with wrath and she acknowledged “no, I am not” with her soundless lips and talking eyes. He pushed her away from himself, like something in her made him feel grotesque.

           She looked at him with gullibility. To make this awkward situation a little more comfortable, the words made their way through her mouth “but listen harsh……” and she listened the sound of a slap on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me before marriage, my life is ruined, you bloody slut”, he asked in a distressed tone. A shocked tear escaped from her eye, falling on her naked breast.

           She covered herself up in that bloody red sari, which she was wearing on her wedding night. She stood up and took the briefcase filled with her belongings,  “what are you doing? ” he panicked. The house was filled with the guests, and his honor was at the stake. He stood up in panic and held her, by her arms. “It hurts, leave me harsh”, and when he saw those stormy red wet eyes filled with the rage, he had to release her. Opening the door she turned back and asked “Are you a Ram?” and he was shocked but responded “…….but, I am a man” . She shouted the similar words again “Are You A Ram??” ….and a blameworthy silence prevailed, no response, just a hushed acceptance of not being a virgin himself and before slamming the door, the words she said “then why do you think you deserve a Sita” ,shook his soul to its core.

The letter of agony

                                                                               

Prologue:

Two People one male and one female met at professional training for their first job in Bangalore…girl had a boyfriend and boy too had a love interest …but when they came in contact with each other they became friends, best friends and then they don’t knew what they were …they were two bodies but one soul and same thoughts prevailed in both heads. They did went to movies, holiday trips and what not. After 1.5 years of fun filled adventurous slice of time, boy was transferred to Delhi…..they wept whole night before he was scheduled to leave Bangalore. They decided not to be in contact ever (because it would have hurt to be away). But after 3 months girl wrote a mail to him, telling the intense feeling of loss that she is undergoing and in subject line she wrote ”Pls Do Not Reply” .But how could he stop himself not to write his agony to her. Yes the boy was me and this is the original mail, name changed for confidentiality reasons and the reply that shouldn’t be send was this                          

To:          Neha.Kapoor@infotel.com

From:     Paras.sharma@infotel.com

Subject:  I have no choice …I had to reply

                      Firstly ,Yes you don’t write well…..but What the hell, what do you think I am?  Don’t have I any emotions or do you think that I will not be able to feel the things that normal humans do..… I also can’t tell anybody, what I am going through. So let me also share neha……..

                      Paras is very happy…has a perfect life …he could have been the luckiest guy…Drives a Ritz …paras lives in his big house…. paras is at his home, where his mom is cooking food for him….. Office for paras is like at a walking distance…He surely is happy. Many of my team mates here have such a illution about me. But what they didn’t noticed is that paras is laughing less then he used to in Bangalore, he is living less than he used to , he is more in his thoughts than he used to.

                      Do you really think that these all materialistic things will ever give me a constant feeling of happiness and satisfaction? I loved solitude and I still love it. But when I was with you, I could still enjoy the pleasure of being alone, you were not a different person…… you were like the sugar dissolved in water .Life took us to those turns that made us experience many kinds of emotions.

                      Here I have made two very good friends Rahul and Khusboo . They talk to me and I talk to u.  Neha Neha Neha Neha…what the fu**. They are always saying” paras will start something with Neha and will end with her, is there something that you two hadn’t done.”

                      And there I was, after ignoring their comment, would again start some fun filled episode of our life. There  in Bangalore people thought that I was your Boy Friend because I was with you all the time, everywhere. Here these people have started thinking the same until I informed  them about your so called original Boyfriend Yash in detail and now they are convinced that you were just my friend. I know that you do remember me,  but when you think about me .But you know you are totally engraved in my head and  I am not trying to release you or your memories because they give me pleasure, at least momentarily  .

                      If God has granted me ONE wish, just one I would have asked him to let me be with you for  whole of my life. I don’t care how much your boyfriend hates me or if your father is having a fight with a goon . And no I don’t want you as my mother, sister, friend, wife or girlfriend but God I want you to be with me for whole life. Can you imagine the life we can have?….. I can, that eternal feeling of happiness for whole life , laughing hysterically(while cooking , while watching TV, going to loo, sleeping, driving, studying, working, watching movies in multiplex and whatever situations u can think ) …. And that will be a perfect life but as all say perfection is impossible.

                          Sometimes at night I try to sleep….under my quilt… silently...moonlight fills my room like anything….no thoughts in my mind and I don’t know from which corner of my mind your thoughts gets back  their strength of dominating my existence….  my eyes remain open but I can’t see a thing that’s in present,  but they possess a special power of peeping into the past …with a sudden tick of the clock I feel like I am hollow , my heart sinks , my breath gets short, mind gets stormier (its kind of same feeling as I have a board exam for physics and I am there all prepared for chemistry). I feel like god let her be here ..plleeaasee….let her be here with me, I want  to talk, I want to laugh  … and in what moment I start weeping I don’t know. Then I realize you are like addiction like a cigarette , like drugs ,like alcohol. I left you and it makes me pretty desperate sometimes but I can’t have you forever in my life makes me more miserable.

                      Neha Even I don’t know why god has done this to me. I can feel you , even though I never touched you……and even don’t have such desires,  but I want you to be around me …just you …your thoughts, your talks ,  ufff lets leave it now. What do you think, have I laughed since coming here like I used to when I was with you……….were any movie, such a fun as it used to be with you……..is bitching

 So much exiting as it used to be….eating ice cream at naturals…oh god before my team mates see my welling up of my eyes let me end the mail.

                      I din’t loved you , liked you  or I don’t know which emotion can describe this relationship in its completeness but I am addicted to the feeling of being with you…..many nights I sleep imagining that I am sleeping here and wake up  in feb 2010 when we met first . But alas….. As all the fantasies, it’s not possible but yes I will always cherish your memories………bye

Your pagal friend

Paras


A lil guidance of your's is required here ..... So what can be the end ? where it all gets  culminated ? should they get bounded together in the so called standard relationship(i.e engagement or marriage) or live with the sweet pain and  memories,  or forget like it never  happened to them??????????

Pleasure of Being Alone...2...

Continued......

The little place to sit, by the side of the window on my 16th floor apartment made my otherwise strong knees weak, I sat there on the more than comfortable cushioned floor, with a deep sigh, my legs stretched and my back supported by the wall behind.

From there the far spread contours of this crazy city were visible, the city of which I was part of, till now, the playground, the so called karma bhoomi.It felt quite scary that how well I was dissolved in that hustle bustle the whole day but now I was in my protective shell, no more pretensions no more struggles, no more Honda going for Mercedes.The city was partially lit by the natural red brown black brightness of the sinking sun and partially by the artificial bright lights coming out of some manmade bulbs.

My mesmerization was broken by my talented nose which sensed the alluring smell of ginger and cinnanoman escaping out of the cup of green tea I just prepared. The light music of a Mozart flowing effortlessly into my ears …..ooohhh god it feels good…. the sky is still dusky, the room is still purple but my mood was now changing its color to nothing …..Nothing??…hmmm yep nothing… no positive no negative, no right no wrong, no acceptable or unacceptable……no judgments about others or as a matter of fact about myself .Finally my body and soul were aware of each other’s existence.

The silent vacuum created when the piece of music came to its end, was without any delays replaced by the sounds of my life, the innocent giggles of me and my cousins while we played whole day long, when we used to visit my maternal grandfather’s house in summer holidays, located in a city called roorkee in state of uttarakhand. Running around, hiding behind the curtains, chirping of birds in the evening…..as the hue of the sky changed to what we called grey it turned itself into the cinema screen and there I could clearly see the huge mango tree I was climbing upon, the unripe green mangoes which still used to be having incredible taste , the nest of a sparrow, just one glimpse of those eggs laid there……and the sheer feeling of joy that filled our hearts and souls.

The memories were so strong somewhere in my subconscious that the vivid details can be viewed on the screen even though I didn’t remember them anymore .

With a deep breath the sounds and visuals vanished , what remained with me was the slight feeling of joy that I once felt…….as sip of streaming hot tea entered my throat and took the pathway to my stomach in-between burning and at the same time relaxing my tense veins. The heartbeat went slower and breath became deeper.

And after having a glimpse of that eternal feeling of joy that once i felt in real, the so called goals and ambitions mattered least to me. I was in the much deeper world where I was no man or woman, where I posses no consciousness And when you have absolutely nothing in your mind except a feeling of a subtle happiness coming from an unknown source it’s called nirvana or moksha, the realm of silence, the pleasure of being alone.

Pleasure of Being Alone...1...

           Do you know pleasure of being lonely, anyways yes or no, let me start my blog by telling you what it’s all about. sky is dusky, house empty, room is purple and my mood is blue ,Tired of whole day of work, speculations, , struggling ,planning and displaying intellect more than that exists .

           Similar to a child returning to his mother after the play is over, when he went to play he was brimming with enthusiasm but now it’s enough of the games, some silence is needed some seclusion will be required, and to make you more informed I played the game called life.

            Entering the door key feels same as the last km for the marathon runner, the final destination. The place where I can be alive again or where I can die again. Room is Silent, dark, and may be little cold, as a graveyard, but with click of a switch some brightness is spared .Keeping the luggage of so called importance on the side, It feels urgent to get out of those narrow bottom trousers, those expensive shining black shoes, that designer tie which in the morning felt like the synonym of status, the passport for my social acceptance, now feels like a burnt plastic wrapped all over me, burning me, hurting me….. Feeling desperate to get out of it in a second or less. With short tense breaths and pounding heart finally I get over it …and thus got over my cocoon, the dress code. The dress which makes me worthy in the morning lies there on the floor like some worthless shit.

              Breath turns normal, as now my body can breath, fingers of my legs are no longer stuck in some jimmy choo hole, and my neck is free of that deadly knot. The natural rhythm takes its place as I am naturally naked once again. No external burden but a little internal stress I move to the bath with heavy breath….the steam escaping from the hot droplets of water coming out of the shower...wrapping the body, which carried my soul for the day. For a movement the burning sensation and then that feeling of eternal relaxation……..to be continued