How hard can it be to close eyes and simply sit. Speaking of eyes, my eyes are heavy with sleep. And yet, tonight, I want to write something.
Now, 11:00 at night. Today, a friend’s birthday. Yesterday, he met with an accident while he was riding his motorcycle. At around 11:30 yesterday night, four of us drove to the spot of accident and somehow brought his damaged motorcycle home, parked it.
Yesterday night, the fog was thick. Those ghostly roads were without any heart. Luckily, we came back without trouble. Upon returning, I found that my clothes were damp with mist. I looked towards the flyover that ran across the highway. The bright streetlights dimmed by thick fog. Fog was flowing on the highway like white river. The headlights of passing vehicles looked like floating candles or lamps.
Later that night, I woke up around 2:45 and ran to the toilet and screamed with my mouth in the commode.
Went to sleep at 5 in the morning. The entire night was spent in this small cafe with a couple of knows faces, discussing about small mindedness, mental health, curiosity, depression among other things.
Around 4:45 in the morning, the fog started settling over the town. I wished to drive back home, bring my camera and come back and click a few pictures. When I got home at 5:00 in the morning and finally laid down, I couldn’t help but close my eyes. I had put an alarm to wake up at 6:30 in the morning to take my camera and go outside. I woke up at 3:00 in noon and finally got up from bed at 5:00 in the evening. All my day gone sleeping.
Every man struggles. Every man struggles. Every man struggles. It’s why I never say anything about someone else. It’s why I never form opinions about someone else. in fact, It just doesn’t make sense to me to form opinions anymore.
I live my life. I like to remain busy with my own learnings and unlearnings of life. Now that I understand things in a better way, I’ve grown quieter. I understand perspectives that may not be my own. Now, I can feel just how vast the universe is and I’m just this small piece of life in it, significant nonetheless. And even if I’m not significant, I’m happy to be here. For now, that is enough for me.
Tonight, fog settles over the town much earlier. Now, it’s 11:00 at night. Maybe I’ll wait a couple of hours more before heading out with my camera.
Listening to this raga late night. The atmosphere of the room is so relaxing. I’m dozing off while I’m sitting in my chair. There’s something magical about this music. I do not know what it is. I just want to sit back and feel the music and let go of everything. Few minutes back, I fell asleep in my chair. The music was like lullaby in my ears. Now, yawning. Again. Again. And again. One more time. This music is the purest narcotic there is. I’m transported to some place else. Rather, this place is transformed into some other, more magical and more magnificent place. I wish I broke down into tears now. It would feel amazing to break down into tears now. I wish to cry for hours. I think it along with this music can purify me.
No tears last night. Another day now. It’s evening now. Sitting naked in my chair. Listening to this beautiful raga by Sultan Khan and Zakir Hussain. Rag Bhupali. It’s an evening raga. There’s music that’s made from the threads of human consciousness. This is one such piece of music. When you listen to it, it deposits deep in your spiritual core. It touches you in places you never thought you had within you. Imagine the world has ended and you are floating in this infinite emptiness and suddenly you get filled with this pleasant feeling. If there’s a path to feel the divine energy through music, I think it’s through the path of classical music. No modern music seems to reach in those places within us.
that day, I had drenched in rain twice already the damned rain I was sick of it give me desert throw me in the hot sands of Thar I was saying all this to myself rather, I was screaming but the sky doesn't hear the sky is deaf and stupid and it won't stop crying until it's done tired of getting drenched, I stopped at a friend's shop late evening and sat for a while 'Nothing seems to be working out' said my friend to me while we sat and talked 'Seems so' I replied he ordered coffee, a cup, just one the coffee came soon and I drank it it was still raining soon, a car arrived and my friend hopped in and they drove away, all four of them who they were, I had no idea I waited for a couple of minutes outside the shop in total darnkess it was still raining I said screw it and got on my motorcycle I drove to my favorite restaurant in town, a small one where not many came at night I sat, there was no electricity it was still raining 'Eggs?' I asked the owner 'Only chicken and fish tonight' he replied 'Fish' I said I put on my earphones classical piano I needed classical on such nights I closed my eyes for a minute and listened a voice called my name I opened eyes, saw a friend sitting opposite to me 'Tired?' he asked 'Tired of rain, yeah. I want it fucking gone now' I replied 'Yeah it has kind of spoilt the mood' he said we talked a bit fish came soon looked superb as always, roasted 'Fish of smaller waters is tastier' he said 'That's very true' I said I ate slowly took me an hour maybe more it was still raining outside we talked about Indian classical music while I chewed on the soft bones of the delicious fish soon, a bouncer-like figure walked in, sat, waited for his takeaway, took it, paid and left 'He's the bodyguard of a don' said my friend 'Looks like it' I said I finished eating, my friend got up and left where he went, I had no clue I paid the bill it was still raining 'How do I withdraw cash from my account if I do not have a card?' the owner asked as I started leaving 'Why do you think I know the answer. I do not' I said it was still raining I ran outside to my motorcycle, sat and drove back to home.
I was back there after a few nights. Back in the same cafe. Late night. A few of them were back there too, sitting, talking, making fun of each other. I took a seat outside and lit a cigarette. I was listening to Paterlini. Everything feels calm when I listen to his music. I closed my eyes for a moment. A strange sense of joy filled my chest. I couldn’t help but smile. The smile was a big one, and it lasted on my otherwise dull face for a good few seconds.
Soon, a friend walked in. He walked straight inside, talked to a few people sitting there, and then walked back to my place. He sat opposite to me. He had his earphones on. He was listening to something too, or maybe he was watching something on his phone. ‘What’s new?’ he asked. I nodded in no. I had nothing to say. I was floating in this calmness listening to the beautiful music of Paterlini. I wasn’t interested in engaging in any kind of conversation.
Soon, two more friends arrived. The time was 23:39. I didn’t plan to stay there till late. Maybe I’ll go home in fifteen minutes, I thought.
All four of us were sitting on the chairs outside with a couple of tables between us. We ordered coffee and pasta. I didn’t mind eating too much. I didn’t mind ordering more food. I hadn’t had a full meal in two days.
Our food kept arriving. We kept eating. Soon, a giant arrived. A virgin giant, that’s what everybody who knew him called him. He arrived on a rather puny motorcycle sitting between two of the most drunk men of the city. What is wrong with them today, each one of us were thinking inside our heads.
The two drunk men got off the motorcycle and climbed the stairs stumbling along the way to us. They both took the table next to mine and sat with their arms resting on their knees. They were breathing heavily as if they had just finished a half marathon.
The virgin giant was staring at all of us. He was a giant but he was young. He had strength but not the experience of life. He could deadlift 270 kilograms like it’s nothing. But when asked about what he would do with his life, he was as confused as any other young man.
He sat on the big empty space on the floor between our tables. ‘Today I make sure he loses his virginity’ shouted one drunk man pointing at him. The giant was a giant but in the moment he felt shy. Shy as if the drunk man was going to screw him in the ass. Shy as if he weren’t born with a dick. Shy as any wet cat would feel when spreading for the first time.
The virgin giant, out of shyness, hid his face, kept laughing. The two drunk men, got up and tried lifting him off the ground but failed. ‘Wait. Wait! I’ve got this whore waiting for you. Only for you. Now don’t make her wait for too long! Up up up. C’mon!’ one drunk man was shouting and laughing and scolding the virgin giant. The virgin giant felt embarrassed, he could hardly laugh.
It continued like that for an hour, after which, the virgin giant got up and ran away. His ass had turned red from embarrassment. It could be seen on his face when he was leaving. The two drunk men sat down in their places and continued to drink more, cussing and screaming and shouting. The friends began to leave one by one.
My time was ruined. I got up and tried to feel again that feeling of listening to Paterlini for the first time. I failed. I washed my hands and walked to my motorcycle. I sat on it and drove back home. The time was around 1:15 in the morning.
Been away for a long time. A while ago, I was sitting with this friend of mine in his shop’s backroom. We were talking about how something must be done soon. About what, we couldn’t say. But something must be done. That much is clear. It is as if everything has come to a standstill. It is as if we are alive but we do not feel so. Something, hence, must be done to feel alive.
But what. Should we start a new business. Should we make a youtube channel like many others. Should we make an instagram travel account. Should we start vlogging. The thing is that it isn’t enough to start something. The question is why start anything at all. What is compelling us to take on something new. Maybe because we are capable of doing far more that what we are currently doing.
Our conversation was cut short by the arrival of a third man, a nuisance, a menace to the society in general. At that point, we stopped talking. We let the third man talk. He was angry at something. About what, I didn’t wish to know. A million things anger me, but it’s not anyone’s business. Only mine.
Soon, the third man left. Our conversation couldn’t resume immediately upon his leaving. Something about that space had changed. Maybe our moods changed. Maybe we were too exhausted from the routine that we were unable to talk further.
Soon, the clock struck 9 o’clock. We got up, walked out of the shop, locked it behind us and we drove back to our homes as quietly as we could.
Today was another bad day. I woke up very late with pain in my thumb. Somehow, I fractured it a few days ago. I was in another town and one rainy morning, I slipped and fell on my ass while I was strolling downhill. A couple of folks gathered around me and helped me in getting up.
‘You ok man? Did you hurt yourself?’ asked a folk.
‘Oh I’m ok. I’m ok. Nothing serious. I think I can walk fine’ I replied as I stood up and brushed the dust and wet mud off my joggers and t-shirt with my palms.
I was wrong of course. It did hurt when I started to walk but I kept walking quietly. I didn’t ask for help. Generally, I ask for help only when the situation is dire. I have got endurance like no one else. I can take any kind of hurt now. I can observe my own pain and not feel stressed about it. So I kept walking and after walking for an hour, I reached home.
Upon reaching home, as I got into cold shower, it began to hurt in more places. As I dried myself with a towel, I felt my right leg hurting from top to down. As I lay down in my bed for some time, I could feel the pain sedate me. When my eyes opened up a couple of hours later, I couldn’t manage to even sit on the bed. I got down the bed somehow, and despite all the hurting, I got dressed and went on another stroll uphill.
The next morning, the pain was excruciating and I decided to go on a short trek through the woods. When I reached the top of the hill, I had unbearable pain in my body but when I saw the view of the hills and the incessant rain over the hills and the fog settling down on the whole city, I felt at ease. I sat there for three hours, doing nothing, witnessing the crazy rain wash everything. Then as the dusk came, I began my walk downhill. It was raining still. By then, my right palm was swollen. I guess I fell too hard on it.
I remember walking uphill. I remember beautiful symphonies. I remember the taste of bad beer and bad wine. I remember taking a nap under the sky while I lay on a huge boulder with a valley of emptiness beneath me. I remember feeling no pain then. I remember crying in closed rooms and then walking out of them without a trace of sadness on my face. I remember gulping down my anger. I remember feeling pissed off with the idiocy and hypocrisy of people everywhere. I remember waking up late every day, demotivated to go to work. I remember pain. I remember being in love. I remember my enemies well. I remember their hatred towards me. I remember being made fun of. I remember being nothing. I remember being a nobody. I remember this night when I get to writing once again.
Almost one month into the year and I can already feel myself failing at my commitments to myself. The beginning has been very rough and quite taxing. I’m slumping. Maybe I should go to the altar and confess all my sins even though it won’t change a thing. Maybe I should just stay quiet and keep doing my thing. Maybe I should run away from everything like the coward that I am. Maybe there’s a god for each one of us. Maybe it’s time to hit the bottom and begin from there anew.
How hard is it to make two people talk. How hard could it be. How hard could the hardest of our problems really be. Do they have anything in them? Or maybe we just couldn’t talk about them. Why burden somebody with the weight of our own problems. Imagine a big circle, and anybody could come there and sit inside the circle and just talk about their problems. Sometimes, talking about the problems aloud helps to understand them in a better way. And without understanding our problems, how can solutions be found.
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