Have you ever felt like the skies came crashing onto you? Like everything just went haywire? Like everything that one had planned was splashed with water and now all the color, the ink, the plans are washed out? Like everything that ever mattered no more exists?
What does one do? How does one fix the skies? How to put the broken pieces up there again? What glue to use? Would the pieces stick to each other like before? Would the glue be strong enough to prevent it from falling again? Would this pain be just once in a lifetime experience? Could it be?
And on top of everything, there are these people called writers. Overtly emotional. Always on the verge of tears. Broken with the slightest touch and hurt by a pinprick. What do such people do? Where do they find their solace, their peace? Is there anything like peace for them?
Is there solace?
“What do you do this for
this seeking attention
The suddenness of the question
the stab, the pain
what had I done so wrong?
“You are passing signals
allowing their thoughts to go berserk
what fun arousing their imagination?”
I kept wondering
how wrong could a smile be
sharing a laugh in the tragedy of life!
I conjecture at the perceptions
how environments, upbringing work
the ease of raising a finger!
It all started with a simple introduction. They called it an icebreaker. “Why be ignorant about each other when we have to be together.” That was the first time we interacted with our seniors.
We were asked to introduce ourselves. Names, previous university and hometown. On the mention of hometown they asked to pinpoint the place of residence. I refused straight away. Why should some strangers know of my residence? What purpose would it serve them? What fun? But they didn’t see my point. All they understood was that I had misbehaved. Insulted the seniors. Hurt their ego.
Later that day, Her classmates displayed the first signs of trouble. Someone came in and asked who talked like that to seniors. When pursued further she revealed that seniors said it was rude to refuse revealing your address like that. Discussions on my behaviour had probably started. The feeling of unease settling in.
This incident highlighted me in the department. I could even see my classmates eyeing me thinking probably of my (muhnphat) behaviour. Faces of seniors even worse. That day I knew I was all alone.
A few days later seniors confronted me in department. Asking me how I could gather the courage to answer them like that. How could a junior survive in a campus with angry and annoyed seniors. I did not answer them for this. But I merely told them that my data is personal and I shall not share it. And if residential details were so important for our cordial relations, why wasn’t the guy first to be introduced asked to reveal his exact residential location? What was the reason for this bias? And yes, I also gathered the courage to tell them that a person is himself responsible for the safeguarding of his respect.
This all didn’t go well with them. The next thing to follow was a call at hostel. Seniors called me up to their room in hostel. They held me accountable for the humiliation they faced in front of all juniors as well as seniors. But that wasn’t my fault, was it? They tried to make me feel guilty, horrible and get me to apologize. But why should I? I was merely protecting my identity. And I have every right to decide how much of my personal data is revealed to strangers. But they were seniors. Seniors with a hurt ego and a revengeful mind.
Seniors would not have bothered me if it would have been restricted to that. But would that not be too simple a life? For the life of my miseries was destined long.
The seniors in hostel were warden’s favourites. She did as and whatever they said. But I had not anticipated what happened further. In a conspiracy with the warden they created issues for me. Everyday I had a new issue to tackle. For some consecutive weeks I was made to shift from.one room to another citing one reason or another. The warden would not even listen or understand. Tired of adjusting the luggage in a room every week I simply stopped adjusting them. All my luggage remained in my bags. In college everyone had started eyeying me. And my classmates were asked to stop talking to me by seniors. I was made to feel like an outcast. No one to talk to or ask for help.
As gradually as one could sense, isolation was taking its toll. Sometimes I found soothing in tears, on other days nothing. The most painful thing was telling my parents that i was fine and happy. Talking to them in a cheerful voice was the most difficult task.
And one day I climbed up the terrace and jumped. The world won. They had successfully killed all my courage and hope. Only light remained.
Walking down the road,
in pursuit of that goal
the cherished longing,
the golden dream
Along the way you try too hard
with a sun shining too bright
And then suddenly you feel tired
all energy, zeal sapped.
You wish the destination were nearer
that you reach before too late
with fatigue creeping in
the distance seeming even longer.
And somewhere you suddenly get sight
There! you found it right in front
Running wild, with all your heart
to find a mirage, mocking.
Broken hearts could not be seen
but they ache even more
They pain of losing out on dreams
the tests of time and tiredness.
And sometimes the only fault
Is how goodbyes are said
A little bit of inseparation
Brings floods unknown
All milestones get delayed
Everyone gets welled up
Some things just can’t be normal
One of them parting goodbyes
Some console some redicule
Some call it justice of Divine
None could understand the misery
The mother was hiding behind
Wondering how miracles happen
How babies are born
And how a chosen few get
More then the required
And the only fault in destiny
Was an extra chromosome
the one which didn’t part
Didn’t dare to say goodbye!