Saturday, April 24, 2010


Suddenly an urge flared up on my fingertips. The next thought that crafted was that I dont want this to be a poem as it would require thinking. And this, I dont want to think and type.

Its been four long, arduous months since this facade has made itself an integral part of my life. Its almost in coherence with my tanned skin and severely tampered soul. Most of the readers of my blog (well, I guess there are just few of them) know that I write mostly when, as they say very disappointingly, "something happens" to me, or for that matter, with me. I say, its not that always something different happens to or with me. That something is just LIFE in either its angelic conformation or, very often the bitchy one.

This time, its neither of them. Its kind of twisted. Its a question, actually a horde of them, that has contorted the image of my own personality in me to great extents. There are so many questions, that very often it feels like my brain is no different from a sack being filled with rushing water, way beyond its capacity. And the part that is troublesome is, that the "sack" is still trying to hold on. Now it feels that the "sack" has a turgid conscience, one which has inflated beyond the capacity of self respect.

These days, when I hold the pen in my hands, all I manage to write is a tiny, as my confidence, a dot. It feels such a colossal task to even start! So much is happening, yet I feel like an empty vessel. A barrage of emotions fills my veins, but by the time they reach between my ears, it seems they get diluted with time, and contaminated by other thoughts residing there,  so much so, that the only change that happens is the dot gets darkened. Deep. And what happens next has become as frequent as the daily breath. My pen lays besides the dot, waiting to be picked up again in the so familiar tainted hope. And I, like the tiny dot, like the dark speck of beginning on my conscience, stay still where I was. Where I am right now. To some people who are really close, the monotony of this mess up would have begun to look like the monotony of seasons. Even the seasons differ in pattern and timing. But mine, both are unswayed everytime I hear a stressfull hello, if I hear one at all.

Why do I feel so caved out? Like I have been scraped from deep insides of my already damaged confidence? Scraped out each and everything that I possessed and was proud about? Sometimes it feels I am wasting this life that I have been gifted by the Big Man above. And sometimes, it feels as empty as an abandoned house for the past several years, a house which was a mammoth palace of exuberance and  glee. I have no answers to any of my questions out here. When I began writing (read: typing) this I did not know where would it finally lead to. I still dont know. I thought I will just write my heart out. But even when I am typing this I feel stuck somewhere! I just know that I have so much to do in life, so much on my mind every single day of the year, every single hour of the day that I feel I am lost. Both by location and by virtue.

Which path should I take? How would I know its right, even if I muster enough courage to choose one? What is this emptiness that is filled in me? College, phone(x 4), education, industry updates, assignments, projects, social networking, blogging, latest technology, newspaper reading, maintaining relationships, keeping in touch with friends (old/new/those who think they are and I simply abhore them but cannot cease contact due to some "social obligations"! :x), keeping in touch with important contacts, watching 24(its the latest addiction that haunts me even when I am under the shower), watching movies, gaining general knowledge, family........................damn. What not!

I just want my erratic thoughts to get straightened up and let me ease out. Let me know a way out of this shitty puzzle I am trapped in for the past 4 months. How to manage the above mentioned carcass of my brain in a day, so that I just feel that this life, is not withering away to disappear in thin air. I just want the whats and the hows and the whens and the whys to just get answered. I just want to feel substantial. I just want to accommodate the essentials in my life, become what I imagine myself as.

The problem is: I suddenly do not know how to.

And here again, my fingers withdraw themselves from this disjointed world of my confused ramblings....and I go back and play an episode of 24, silencing my quest towards myself until it rages again. Or till when, and if, a big if, I find my answers. 


Scribbling Girl said...

Firstly, there do exist readers of ur blog like me so u better blog for them :)
Secondly, i know it kills when all u cd write is a dot as been thru that phase but once i started writing even if once in months i realized now i can breathe as everything inside choked was finally finding a outlet...and it helps a lot...believe me even if u think u write crap doesnt matter as long u write
As far the future part is concerned ...where i cant say much my life is going to the dogs where u pursue ur dreams and then it breaks such it can never be sticked and then u need to see new dreams....thats how my life is but then life moves on :)
One day u will surely find answers till then keep deciphering :)

Nik said..., nice name :P

And I so wish i get the answers... :)

Tweety said...

Tell me just one simple thing...after readin this the first thought that comes to my mind is...Are u happy about anything in your life...if u r not then i think i really need to kick u..

and if u are...then why is it that u cant think about those happy moments when you are stuck in this maze of these questions...after all there one has to believe that there is light at the end of the tunnel...we all survive on hope...

i hope one day u find the answers but then while looking for it u dont need to twist the life out of u...

as for ur writing....y d hell does it matter what u write...tell me y should it be of some substance or even sense...its your blog...who d hell has d right to tell u dat u cant write senseless or something "N" :P said what matters is you write...what you write should be of least significance..

luv u..

Nik said...

Firstly stop making it sound like I am in severe depression that I dont love anything about my life. I never said that, I just said that there are too many questions in me about how to accommodate so much in so less life....!

And I know about my writing. I thought the same thing this evening that I am just going to write. As it is, I write just to vent out..