Can you scream? How loud? Is it loud enough to catch people’s attention? Is it loud enough to scramble through their brains? Yes? You are already one step farther than me coz I can’t scream.
Sweating and gasping while struggling to write this, a million thoughts come and knock on my head. My vision frenetically search for the door to answer. I desperately try to not look the same as yesterday or day before that, when the thoughts came to me, but turned their back on. They didn’t even leave a trail on where they winged their way. I don’t wanna loose them today. I can hear them chatter behind these dark walls. I can try and hear so much, but this silence inside is still prevalent. In fact, the thoughts themselves are struggling to come inside and make some sense. They wanna drown inside my forehead covered by the haze. They wanna press the panic button, which I don’t see.
I can hear them talking about Choices.
Choices? Like, how I chose to win or how I ended up defeated. I know a lot about the choices we make and how it determine our lives. People aren’t the way they are because of some shitty past or some glorified history. None of our loved ones influence either. If we choose to sit, sob and moan, we get hit by a train even if we are not on its tracks. Sounds crazy but that’s fact. Choices do matter. Choices in life may turn out to be good or dire, but we have to make our way through the right doors. Our decisions may land us knee deep in swamp, or otherwise sway us to glee or strife. Who knows? Not even your God knows what your life’s journey has in its pantry? Don’t stay crippled, no matter how ill physically you are. Rise and search that door with me.
Its been an hour, since I have been searching fanatically for that door. All permutations, combinations I try, yet I am not even close. Its very discourteous of me to let my thoughts wait outside. But my mumbling, they can’t hear. I want to scream, but that has proved impossible to me. Though I can rhyme, but I can’t sing. I’ve lived enough to be able to rhyme, yet I have always found more critics of my rhymes. That’s easy no? Criticizing someone’s work. It’s so easy to find imperfections. But if you ask me, I would say every work matters. Mine, yours, my building’s watchman’s, your office’s peon’s. So what, if my work pays less and yours more. It pays my bills, and I eat meals as many times a day, as you do. Although I started a little late in my career, but I have been fighting all alone, and I have dealt with so much at a time. Too much goes in and attack my head. But I never completely broke down and I never expected any empathizing hug from anyone. At least a little zeal, this passion, and hunt for meaning of life, have kept me go on. But if I look in my surroundings, I often see people who talk about their job with upsetting mood, but I have never met someone who doesn’t tell his hobby with passion.
I even summoned up my memories of past relating to erotic daylight, while unsteadily touching the dark walls and trying to pass a thin chord of my touch across the wall. But my heart is weaving songs so soothed songs, that even silence can’t hear. It seems almost impossible to reach to them. My mind begins to slow and I begin to be more anxious. The objective was so clear. I just had to open the god-damn door. But I am left with this feeling of despair. Thus a conclusion ! I am …
All of sudden, the lights starts circling around. They are phosphenes. Oh wait ! They are rainbows of colors now. What are these beautiful pieces of puzzle? A static thump and rhythm start touching my eyelids with a forceful verve as thoughts begin to pile up at the doorstep of my mind. They have waited long enough to enter the universe. Now they want me to release them through my mind’s sight. How stupid of me. I could never see the door. The door was always inside my head. And now this another door of ‘Hope’ is waiting for me, coz I have found the trickiest clue of its whereabouts. The door of hope has invited me in and its gonna close all the doors of torment behind. Lets find it. I know the rules. And there’s no turning back.