Contradiction...

On days, various days in fact, more often than not, it so happens with me that I contradict myself. I talk to, argue with and contradict myself, and thereafter contradict the very fact that I have contradicted myself.

It might sound pretty lame, but the fact is that we all, at some time or the other, feel an urge to talk to, to hold someone... to dispell those moments when the loneliness becomes larger than other things in life. It is at those moments that I, like all of us, look for companionship, for someone... anyone. The yearning becomes so strong that other things at that moment stop mattering all together. In fact, everything seems to be just as lonely, just as sad, just as I am. And then, in that moment of weak loneliness, I start talking to myself.

We, that is I and me, together we talk about life, about the meaning of and the need for life. We argue, we contradict each other, we fight... and we reach no conclusion about anything at all. Things keep moving in and out of focus. And together we sit and wonder.. about the mundane and the arcane. Forgotten is the fact that there is a whole world outside us, forgotten is the smoke hanging heavy upon us, the light around us and the darkness closing in upon us. Forgotten is the longing for companionship, the yearning for someone to hold on to, the desire for someone to talk to. We talk about things big and small... but we only talk about us. No one else matters then... no one.

And then I wonder, why do we need anyone else ? Together, I and me that is, have discussed that and realised that it is not the big things in life that matters to us. That it is the small things that we want to talk about. That person I am yearning for, I just want to tell her how I love the sunrise, how I love the white bird walking all by itself in the green lawn, how I like a particular song, a particular color, a particular book, how I love to sit all by myself and think about things, about everything...

But then... here I contradict myself again... if I so like to sit by myself, why do I need somene to tell this to ?

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On one of the days of my loneliness, I decided to sit by msyelf and talk... to myself. It was a strange feeling at first, the autism that I had gotten into had taken the better of me. People apart, I realised that I had even started running away from myself. But then, how long. How long can one elude himself, the confrontation has to happen someday. So I decided I better be today.

I discovered, when you have built up so many walls around yourself to make it difficult for people to approach you, you make it difficult for yourself too. Still, I kept on trying to talk... to myself. I hesitated in asking questions so that I dont upset myself, I hesitated in answering questions so that I dont upset myself. But then, words can only say so much. It wasn't much use talking.

I delved deeper into my interiors. I had colored myself black all over, everything was dark inside, it hid everything else that was there before. I tried putting in some other colors, some bright shades of life, but then, the darkness was so strong, any color that I tried comepletely lost its essence to the black that was all around. I was slowly realising my mistake. Its easier to add colors and soften the austerity of white, but difficult to change black, it just remains as it is.

I am still wondering, can I remove the black veil, can I fight the darkness and let the light spread around, can I ever talk to myself again ?

And then...

...a streak of lightning tore through the sky, highlighting the dark silhouette, sitting there all by itself... all cold and dark. I shouted out to him, but he wouldn't reply, the sihouette didn't even budge. Lonely and blue as I was, I needed someone to talk to.

Not knowing who he was or why he was there, it was difficult at the outset but I started talking to him. But still, it seems my words failed to register. The silhouette just sat there... still. The darnkess of the silhouette like that of a black-hole... absorbing all, giving nothing. All my words, my tears, my sobs, my smiles, my laughters, my anger, my outburst, my reveree, my remarks... just drowned into the silhouette, the lonely sihouette, invoking no response.

Dejected, I fell silent... and remained so for a long time. Every now and then, a flash of lightning would show the sihouette was still there, the same way as it was, no change, as if time had stopped for it... the lonely silhouette. I thought I must move on, find some other soul to confide into, but somehow I couldn't. I felt a strange connection with it, I couldn't possibly leave him there, all alone. So I sat there, looking onto the place where the silhouette would momentary pass in and out of my sight with every flash of lightning.

The dawn was approaching, soon there would be light and I would probably be able to see who he was. I kept peering into the dark, trying to spot the blotch of darkness in an ocean of black. I kept wondering if he was still there, reassured of his presence by the momentary flashing lightning.

As the sun smeared the sky with vermillion, I thought I cound somehow discern who he was. But as the sun moved on, shedding light on the darkness outside and within, the sihouette began to move and fade. Little by little it trickled out of view till it had completely faded and dissolved into the light just the way it was with the darkness. Where did he go, what was it, who was he.

I dont know, maybe I'll may probably never find out either. But then, sometimes, when I look at my own shadow in the sun, I wonder... was it actually a silhouette or a shadow of something or someone else ? And, a gust of wind blew, passing through my hair, setting them flowing with the wind, and then I noticed the uncanny resemblence between my shadow and the silhouette... but then, I had to forget about it and move on, coz life goes on.

... and when I am dying...

as I fall through the infinite abyss... out of the darkness into the very womb of light, fly up while going down, I think.

I think of the times when I was alive. I think of times when darkness was sweet, I think of times, when solitude was a bliss, I think of the time when I missed both darkness and solitude. I think...

Its all coming back to me, the spectrum of colors surrounding me slowly fading into the darkness of the sun, the sonatas fading away into the silence of the sea. As the walls of the abyss leave light behind, the hiss of the still air in the abyss piercing my ears... I break.

My clothes burning away... shreds flying above me, tears fill my eyes and spill out into the womb of light, but I move on leaving them behind. I move on leaving the darkness and the light, the sound and the silence, solitude and society, I leave myself behind... and I move on.

As I near the womb of light, I realise, its not light that I am falling into, its not darkness that I am falling from, its not the walls of the abyss that are closing in, its not the hiss of the air thats piercing my ears... its nothing. Its the Nothing.

The Nothingness that fills the abyss hits me hard now... but I dont feel the pain. I dont feel the abrupt silence, I dont feel the sudden pause that has come about... I just feel Nothing... The Nothing. Have I reached ? Where have I reached ?

As the question haunts me, I look around. The Nothingness slowly fades out. I see myself fading back in view. I can now see the colors, I can now hear the sound, I can now experience the darkness and the silence as the absence of colors and sound. I feel happy again... I Feel again ! I have fallen back to the darkness of the sun, the silence of the sea and the spectrum of colors.

But then...wasn't it death ? Or was it just the absence of life... I wonder...I Wonder.

The Vacuum in the Emptiness

The vacuum in the emptiness of the lonely lanes that I am walking through, hit me harder than anything solid. The voice of the silence louder, harsher in my ears than anything else ever. I wonder... what is it that I am trying to feel, to listen... or maybe trying not to feel and not to listen ?

The vacuum in the emptiness is a strange thing to feel. As I keep on walking, I feel the vacuum dissolving into a solid mass of strange shades of gray... hitting me hard on my face. I realise how alone I am. I realise how the crowd that surrounds me means nothing to me, I realise that I mean nothing to them either. Its just me against myself... fighting the solid gray cloud of vacuum closing in on me. But it seems I am losing, the cloud keeps getting thicker... closer... I am losing sight of all thats around me...

I am in a damp mist of gray smoke all around me. Its weightless.. it has not the physical properties of matter.. its vacuum. But still its heavy, it weighs down my heart, my eyes, my ears... all my senses are getting enslaved to it. I can see nothing beyond the mist... its all dense and heavy and light and weightless... I feel like I am flying with my feet anchored to the ground. The mist gets denser... stronger... so solid that I can move not anymore. I am suspended in mid vacuum, something wieghing me down, something holding me up. I feel like I want to implode and explode at the same time. I feel... the vacuum in the emptiness.

The mist has begun to roll... rolling into shapes... definitely alive but not human. The voice of the silence has begun to groan in my ears. The floor of mist beneath me begins to fade, but I dont fall.. I can see a boy bundled up below me. The ceiling of the mist fades too... but its a cloudy night, I can barely make out the moon. The mist is no more a mist now. Its a circle of shapes, definitely alive but not human shapes, surrounding me. I try to talk to them, but I cant articulate, I utter no sound. I just keep listening to the voice of the silence. I stop all attempts to articulate or gesticulate, I just concentrate on the shapes and the voice.

They are trying to tell me something... perhaps. The voice of the silence grows into my own voice. I have all the answers in the world... I listen to my own voice... But the boy huddled up over there, below me... pulls me back.. calls me back. I tear through the vacuum in the emptiness, shut out all the voices except that of people rushing right through me...

I am sweating profusely, my breathing is heavy, woice alien... but I know the answers... THE ANSWERS are all here... right here.

An account of I meeting Me.

At times when loneliness covers the horizon, and beyond, I step out of myself and meet Me. I see a boy, withering away with the worry that people hate him, or may be just dont like him enough... I see a boy thinking... deep in his heart craddling the perpetual desire to be loved by all, I see this boy who prepares himself for the unknown, the unobvious and the unexpected, but simply neglects that what is known, obvious and expected.

I try to delve deeper into him, but he has clouded the depths of his heart with voluminous smoke that hangs heavy. He has pushed his mind to where it is surrounded by glass lenses, which magnify the gigantic and shrivel the diminutive. He has bounded his senses in a kaleidoscope of illusions. He is perplexed to the extent of having to wonder who he his and what is he making of himself...

I try to talk to him, but he is too pensive to even notice. I wait, patiently... someday he will listen, and then I will tell him all that he needs to know. I have all the answers, I am his panacea.

But then, how long do I have to wait. Why doesn't he listen... why does he shun his own voice... when will I talk to Me ?

The night when I died...

Every night, we go to sleep, never knowing what we might wake up to. The silver moon that washes down my face and the liquid air that flows in my hair... none of it can help me in my conjecture about what the next morning would be like, would it be a red sun in a blue sky with white clouds and colorless silhouettes of early-morning prayers rising from the earth to the kingdom of gods, or would I wake up to a sun-less sky on a lifeless earth, or would it even be earth that I wake up on ?

At this point of time, sitting alone on a cold steel-bench, that is stealing the warmth off my body, I am letting my soul go free and wander in the depths and heights of imagination. From here, behind a gray cloud, I can see a psychedelic blend of colors... the colors of envy, pride, anger... enveloping the realm of human life... and I can see the black veil of death closing in... am I dead ?

I am floating now, the nothingness of space engulfing me, devouring me slowly, taking me into its folds, making me feel cold and warm and dark and bright and heavy and light and I dont know what, something that I know but I cant define, something that I do not know but can understand... something that I have never experienced, something that is so familiar... human-nature ?

Well, I guess so, I am inside someone else. Its misty in here, a wide spectrum of multiple colors and thick fog. Through the mist I can discern a silhoutte, sitting upright and looking into something, his hands steady, fingers moving fast. Then things go hazy, there is red and then there is green and then a flash of white and then blue and finally its all black and dark... and I am thrown out with a force enough to shatter mountains to dust.

What was it ?

My Definition of Life...

Sun and Rain and Smiles and Pain,
Nights and Days and Gloom and Glaze,
Quill of Feather and Edge of Knife,
Yes, my freinds, That is Life.

Pretty lame eh ? But well thats about it.

Its just the beginning, keep checking in and loads more will come through, I hope I shall be able to justify the title of my blog.