As I lie down on my bed ,under a mosquito net in the dark silent room. I stared into the ceiling for what seemed to be three hours. “This isn’t paradise,” I thought . There are things in this world that would stifle your joy, things that would make you bite your lip, eat your nails and in the end look quizzically at everything and nothing in specific.
Clearly ,sleep had taken a vacation and as my eyes kept flickering registering nothingness, I slipt into the past.
“Son, your system is contaminated and I doubt you’ll be clean again.” Words and words but not just words ; words that left you hanging and gasping for air. He had the face and the hands that seemed ready to point an accusing finger. Listening to him and seeing the only lady who trusted in me ,believed in me. The only person who swore that she would bring the same person I was to this earth, again and again given enough chances, silent. I knew things were on fire and the only thing that was not to be seen was smoke.
I could feel my hands, legs and my whole body cold and weak and I hated that which I had done. It was the moment I dreaded the most, and that which he relished, hoped and definitely prayed for.
I recounted days ,weeks and months ,the things that ensued. Decisions that were made without me uttering a single word.
Most vividly of all,sitting on the rail of a bridge, deep into the forest. Everything was different ,the air,the place and trees. The waters wounding gently and without any apparent haste. On either side of the bridge were trees that seemed ready and happy to keep enjoying that which the area soil was still willing and ready to offer. The air was cold and refreshing. I watched the birds flapping their wings and once or twice perching on the tree branches. I felt so alone but incredibly peaceful, and the longing to keep sitting there grew thick and strong.
I slipped my phone from my pocket. Lo and behold ,it was 12:30 P.M. I had spent half an hour thinking. At least thinking is a lot more different from worrying. The temperature was well about 17 degrees and the day was Sunday , the month of November year 2014. I knew it was quieter where my mom was for it was winter. The forest was quiet too but, i could still hear the warbling of the birds. How I wish I could just say sorry mom.
Then I thought of my sister and a sharp piercing pain swept through my spine. I could feel a long line of tear falling from my eyes and onto my cheek.
I had always flaunt with astonishing swag my idealistic nature. All that had fleet to air vanished like the mildew.
I felt devoid on the inside and the idea of not having them around, stroke me with a deafening thud. I had failed them, and i resented myself for that. I was a junk , an idiot and a good for nothing.
I was awaken from my thoughts when my phone beeped, it was a message from someone I call with strong conviction, a friend. A friend I treat, respect and rever. Someone who has taught me to at least value what my social classes teaches. That we humans are social species and we rely on each other to survive even the most basic. Earlier I had learnt from the same person that,you don’t have to know someone to be good or concerned and that we should always offer our unrelenting support to those in need.
Momentarily I looked at my phone surprised that my friend was still awake, but then checking on me ; for reasons beyond my immediate grasp, filled me with extraordinary joy. A flicker of hope.
Indeed there exist marked disparity between humans and in the sense , I have assumed the role of an advocate. And perhaps the greatest testament to what I think is my writing.
There comes a time when we must relate somehow the good and the bad and let the good prevail. Finding myself in that time ,I feel its adequate to state that there are Angels out there. People who do care . Tears work wonders ,they can melt solid hearts ,alleviate internal pain change other peoples mindset and even initiate a thaw into a relationship.
A structural engineer will tell you, an eighty-five-mile per-hour wind blowing for sixteen minutes from the north-west might pose less of a threat to a particular building than an eighty-mile per-hour wind blowing for fourteen minutes from the south-west. What’s the moral of the story ; simple things matter small things are important. Just a little twist in the normal is significant.
There are people out there who need you, those who are hoping that someone would see them through a difficulty. Hoping that someone would come for their aid.
Its easy to say, “I don’t really care,” and that, its not your problem. But I tell you what, a simple phrase like everything will be okay, is enough to change someone’s perspective . Possibly prevent them from doing the unthinkable.
I used to hold a different idea about people. I knew that people were a source of dissatisfaction and discomfort or at least if they sometimes did not ,they often did. The idea of knowing people was very strange to me. All that came with it was a dreary aspect.
I still remember rubbing shoulders with social enthusiasts, when I expressed my displeasure about social interactions . Today I hold a different perspective. Different ideology, one which has evolved dramatically with the arising necessities.
Before ,I surely did not give a swimming monkey what another person was thinking. I would execute with ingenuity, a water tight exit plan when caught up in a situation that compelled me to jerk with a stranger two bottles down the line.
I treated people as though they were some strange mutations that had absolutely no relevance to me. I made no effort to hide my impatience with people who wanted to know my views either. In essence people didn’t matter to me.
I am an avid reader and fault me not for that if you ain’t. And that has fashioned greatly the way I think today. Reading “The Last Pamphlet,” was the greatest turning point in the way I think about people.
The fact that an old woman was saved by a little boy, whose dad really did not approve him walking in the falling rain drops. That was an awful lot that I could not ignore and push down the drain.
So just imagine what you can do in daylight. Imagine a life you can save. Imagine that one person you can make happy even for a minute.
In my parallel universe ,I was too arrogant to believe in sympathy ; too ambitious to restrain my purpose with the ideas of oneness. Well that has somewhat drastically changed.
Change is gradual, and I sit pretty shaking my head as I remember with an air of being glad, that some of the things my mind raced through that night have since been squelched by a friend unknowingly.
I channel my admiration and respect for those who have chanced, investing in the well being of others.Be a rainbow for somebody’s cloud.