In the deepest recesses of my thoughts, hidden from family and friends, I remain unhappy. A feeling of incompleteness. A feeling of emptiness. A feeling that prevents happiness to prosper. If in a moment of amnesia, a remote smile is to escape through, the demons rise to stab their fangs and lay to rest the mortal remains of an aberration that tried to break through.
The ability to see life in its complete nudity robs childhood of its innocence. The tickling laughter with gay abundance, then recedes, to be replaced with youth, with a guilt that acts just as that of a diabetic indulging with sweets. Success demanded and assumed inevitable. On graduating, every friend’s success was celebrated, even though it came with separation. Every success came with its toll, till finally, when my success came there was no one to celebrate with. A champagne without a toast. The worthless staleness.
“Do not despair, for Lady Luck would smile soon”, was the advice readily at hand. A never reaching carrot dangled in front of an ass that I was. But what alternative did I have? Plowed along, as did I. Who is this lady luck? Has anyone ever seen her or known her? Is she capable of being just? I guess my lady luck must be divinely beautiful, that the Gods just couldn’t excuse her to shine her fortune on me. I dug and drank, quenching my thirst. I learnt to live life so.
The jungles of concrete, though thickly populated with my kind, never throw up friends. Whom to blame with each fighting their own demons. Unhappiness works like drugs, resulting in a recluse being the common denominator. Acquaintances replaced friends. An adulthood of loneliness, nowhere near the top. Exorcism releases the evil spirit from the body. What “ism” exists for the escape of a spirit from a devil’s body? Society’s answer is but to restrain.
Posed as to “what was it that I desired and yearned for?”, I realize I can’t confide. I can’t explain. What I had, wasn’t what I wanted and what I wanted seemed not in my destiny. Caught in boundaries set around me, set by you, set by me, set by them. Why on earth did we set these boundaries. Across these limits is what my heart desires. Such pain does the heart give as it tries to wretch itself free from the body that imprisons it, that gives no happiness. Every time the yonder calls, every time the eye lay sight of the yonder, how beautiful it is, the heart wrenches. Why is a desire given, if its not to be fulfilled. Why is a heart given, if its desire is to be left unquenched. Why is vision given, if it only arouses desire? Even these questions have started to pain.
How well some have accepted, learnt to live in denial, acknowledging all on destiny. How well they laugh. I refuse to accept, I refuse to retire. Even if this means a sentence of life imprisonment for my heart in the deepest pits of my chest, caged and banished to where no happiness is known. If not in this life, then maybe the next.