Mystification!

Not that I see my world in black and white, but I have the pleasure of defining ‘BOTH’. I am not talking about the darkness of night, its life. I do not want my questions to be answered or may be I want them to be answered unhurriedly. Just like as they say, inflow of ideas should be more than outflow, so that one doesn’t run out of stocks. Inventory management to be precise. ‘I’ do not revolve around anything. I am the centre, I am the hero. Don’t call it blasphemy, these thoughts are mine and am assured, God wants me to think this. I am life till the last breath and I am death everlasting. I don’t have to pull the veil down, I am just certain and assured by my senses. I do not regret the decision; I want to write but not with trembling hands. I want every alphabetical stroke to be gentle, cutting through the edges.

It seriously seems to revolve around “I”. That’s what I have been longing to tell you for so long. I am not the ultimate truth but am not deceptive as well. I am not a dagger in beauty. I am strange to myself. Exploring would be a good idea, but I need to find some good time. Then delve deep into the truth of self, know thy own self- thy soul like back of thy hand. Well, this is going to be a long discussion with no dimensions. Better, cut it short; cut it here.

Almost dark in the middle of Dal Lake, how would one feel? Silent waters infuse calmness to heart and mind. The rowing noise is soothing, and I call on to people. Not that I just want to make them hear what I say, but I want them to do the same. I want them to hear the silence, look into each others eyes without feeling embarrassed. No traitors among us, brothers in spirit. But I am still alone, I do not have anyone to look into eyes, I wont let it discourage me. It’s not a day and it’s not the dark, for me it’s a rendezvous with my own self. I do not need the mirror to talk to, my conscience is awake and my principles strong enough to answer my questions. Something I ran far to think about. I needed some outer peace to tie the broken chords inside. I know I am not alone in all this; there are people like me, made of same flesh and blood, who suffer more than I do. Pointlessly at the hands of destiny we succumb. Its comprehension is not easy neither is the way out painless.

I am part of the world filled with every imaginable beauty and evil. Rain doesn’t clean my sins, my tears wash me away. Should I jump into the silent waters to extract its calmness or drown to be a part of tranquility? Only if people would understand how they, in this world pay for the sins they commit, I would have had a long queue behind. The water levels would increase and kill rest of the population through contamination of rotting bodies.

My intuitions are not prophecies, but that’s not enough to prove them wrong. I do not follow the truth, I am my own follower. How good would it be, if I be the truth.