Journey

Once I was going out and thought that this might change my life. The change I was expecting to happen had become incredibly inaccesible. So, I had to go out. I knew that I did not want any props to depend on. I just needed a vehicle. In search of may be an epiphany or just an arbitrary moment which would strike the pose and get me back to calmness. It was not without fear or scepticism as I always have used to feel, but somehow from a very long period of time I knew that I needed to go out. The destination was always selected- The Himalayas. Later I understood it was more about desolation than the location because I had lost my faculty of staying calm amidst multi-lingual people. I thought that recluse may be helpful. In between I sometimes thought of coming to terms with my vulnerability. But most of the times I fell like ninepins. Everytime, when my security system went off I felt more tied. I used to weep then. People are usually dependable enough on tears to erase their earthly inefficiencies and inaccuracies. But for me everytime I wept, everytime I felt those streams flowing down my brain I felt more and more inexpressive. It felt like my last hope was getting shattered. After this I suddenly stopped crying but only when I was not asleep. Whenever I woke up with tears in my eyes I trembled with fear, I shuddered with pain thinking about the future. I was dying to get to the roads. So I went out. This was the first occurance when I listened to what I wanted to do, intensely.

Is that too important, coming back to life? If no then why do you and I hanker to do it? Why life has such a big influence on us? Have we ever asked ourselves that is that life leading us rather the love of life leading us forward or is it about the death and the awe that it inspires and gets us running from it.

It was not easy to sever all the ties that kept me fast tied for what looks like an immortality. But even immortality is a moment, atleast theoritically. So, I kept suggesting my brain that even I can untie them. Inevitably, the first face was mother's. She was very beautiful. And beautifully she had managed all the woes. The most fierce phases were handled by her very calmly. And then there was her everpresent childlike affinity with me. She never knew that she was actually taking me and dad as two brothers who should try and win her heart with their exploits. Mother hurried all the way to reach a point of tremendous pleasure as far as a mother is concerned and usually expected me to fire the life-crackers on the eve of her fulfillment in her life. But I was too self-absorbed or atleast I tried to pretend because I could sense the tie-up that was foreboding my tenure and not that I hated staying tied up but I would start hating it very quickly. And that would have insulted mother which I never ever want. It is true that sometimes I was sure that this lead to some serious consequences concerning my reputation as a boy, or a man, or just a person. It felt good, mother loving me so much and her being so damn sure about my certainties and with this there was the smouldering of so many sleepless nights when I used to plan my plans. Yes, I admit I was a definite thinker with less tendencies to infuse my thoughts into my works, but still, I felt choked by something external. And that something was my mother's face full of signs of uncontrolled nerves which were spoiling her beautiful face.