Fiction: Deceptive She Is

I was sitting in the pleasant lobby, which didn’t seem pleasant to me –not now anyway. The internal dilemma was never ceased, continuously poking my tear glands; tough battle was going on when she came up to me. That typical mocking smile of hers,
 'So the coward is sitting here. Hiding herself! You are such a perfect epitome of good-for-nothing.' 

Criticism and mockery is what I’ve got always, and honestly, I've become immune to many things but this! Everytime I get criticized or mocked, it hurts more than ever.

'You are demoralizing me!' My voice shaking, 'I can't.. I just can't..' The battle came to an end and I broke down sobbing.

‘See see! This is what I call a perfect coward! Afraid-of-everything. What are you afraid of I don’t even know!’

'Them! Its them I’m afraid of! What will they say? What will he think? How is she gonna react? No, I’m better off a coward!'  My sobbing fastened. As gradually as I was realizing every word to be absolutely true –my heart was sinking deeper, the pain was getting intense. I was flooded with tears, and my breathing was getting shallow; shallower.

‘Oh ofcourse! Haha, your they are just amazing. See, baby you are! You started with minor deception and look here, how brutally self deceptive you have become!’

'Whats wrong in that? Not knowing is better than –'

‘Are you serious? You don’t know? You really don’t know?! Hahah! Deceptive! This is what I call deceptive. Could you do anything? Anything? I doubt that honey. You just sit here, make your own philosophical theories and weep.’

I got control. A little. Every word of her was hardening me in a soft way, because I was realizing. Realization with a soothing pain. I knew I was being deceptive, and I had my reasons. But here, to this person, I didn’t want to explain anything. All this while, whenever I opened up to people, they failed to understand. They failed to figure out. And theres noway she could understand. The feeling was piercing enough to provoke a whole new tsunami of tears. I sighed, and the tears went back to where they came from.

 'Absolutely.' I answered with severe tolerance.

No more I had the strength to take any more mockery. I was fine with my decision. Never walking up, never accepting. This wasn’t my time, and for the first time in my life, I knew right. For the first time in my life, I was right; or sort of right.

*   *   *   *   *
And standing here, under the open sky, sea before me, the despair crawled up and again occupied my chest..

Sometimes, its better to keep it to yourself, better to hide. Its better to close your eyes.. I know that I should know, but then could I un-know? -No. 

The pain of not knowing is tenderly better than the pain of knowing. Deception is my way of living.

I see nothing before me now and I feel nothing within me now; except the thorny feeling that nobody, nobody could ever know....

The retreating waves in their thrilling voice, whispered to me ‘think no more; just dream, dreamer.’

I sighed.

Fiction: Hopeless Romantic

Dear Diary,

What it takes to be a strong person, I never knew. And to tell the truth, I always believed that it takes nothing, and even if does, why should I care.

But like always, wrong I was. And now I know, it takes everything; everything in the process of becoming strong and hard. Or maybe, you become strong just like that, for everything that you ever had goes away, what reason then are you left with to be soft and tender?

And if you think that becoming strong and hard are good things, you sure are mistaken –since you haven’t experienced the pain of it. But even after all these lessons that I’ve learned all this way, it doesn’t matter. I’m a hopeless person, I know, I’d fall again –for the same person. All over again for the same person, who is responsible for all these wounds and dents, or to be more precise, for all these lessons; but I least care..

You know it is never easy to hate that person whom every part of yours has loved madly.

So now where I stand, as what I stand, I’m still not-strong. I’m still the same, despite all the lessons boldly carved over my heart. –I don’t care. I don’t care.

I still ask the time, to take me back to the way where I lost myself. Doesn’t matter if I lost myself; at least I found love. At least, I experienced love, even if for the shortest while. I want to live it all over again; all over, with the pain. I want it to be bitterer, more miserable. Because the more painful, the more lasting; and the more lasting it would be, the more real would it feel.

I know I’ve hopelessly lost it, well then that’s a good sign, because sanity is the last thing I would ever desire. There’s no way now, for me to live again; you don’t think breathing means living, or do you?

Sense was something missing in me since always, and it still is not found; but I’m sensible enough to know, that whatever gone is not coming back. Guess that’s okay anyway, I’m holding on to the engraved memories and experiences. As long as I live, they’re going nowhere away.

I know this is life and not a movie where you succeed in killing yourself. Eating, talking, smiling and even laughing –yes I am. But the essence is no more. It’s the smile which doesn’t reaches the eyes, it’s the food which doesn’t provide nutrition, it’s the laugh with doesn’t touches the heart; it’s the surviving, and not the living.

I’m not a pessimist, but neither am I going to preach any wisdom or hope; pity, if you think it could be of any use for brutally shaken people. Perfection is what a shaken seeks, and perfection is what he never gets. Very few are aware about how negatively does absolutism repels the shaken. –And those few are the shaken themselves.

Surely I say, it’s something now you’re destined to live with; because time happens to heal every wound, but fails in altering love.

Bliss

"The glow less eyes, the vacant heart, the world magic less;
My sun trapped behind the dreary clouds, leaving me hopeless!
I was sure but no I was wrong; patient I wasn't and patient I should have been.
It was time!
The light did come;
Straight from heaven –straight to me; to guide me through, to lead me free!
Yes, I feel alive.
Now, I'm alive."

Weather on 24th of Jan, 2012.

Fiction; Abandoned

And here I was standing on the open road trying to repeat and make sense of the break up line I just heard from my sunshine. My legs began to ache, the world seemed to wobble and I collapsed on the concrete road; my knees injured; but the pain was nothing compared to the agony my heart was tormented with!

Funny, how just yesterday I wished life to be long, and now the only desire that I could find within was of death; death, the only way which could provide me escape from this misery. Yes, miserable was what I wasn’t and miserable was the only thing I was.

No more was I the heroin, no more did I have the right to dream for a happy ending, no more was I allowed to smile to myself –what I thought to be a doubt turned out to be real, and what seemed real was absolute delusion; an absolutely beautiful dream which ended.

I rolled on my side, too numb to get up. The summer sky which was clear an hour ago was now trapped behind the heavy grey clouds, blocking the sunlight –it so significantly described my life; this sun of summer was definitely coming back again, my sun was never coming back again. My sun was gone, leaving me in this dark abyss; abandoning me.

As anticipated, it started to rain heavily. In no time I was all drenched, the numbness and despair was saturated. I was lying still on the road, no sound but the low soothing swish of rain. Waiting as I was in the hope to either die or to wake up from this horrible dream –I knew of course, I’m deceiving myself. Again. I was going to live; live to suffer, live to thoroughly go through the torturous sting of the piercing shattered pieces of my dreams, live to die. I was going to live.

She was warned. Yes she was. But Its always too late when realization struck; not that she’d die. But absolutism is what she would want and absolutism is what she wouldn’t ever get.