Nocturnal Ramblings Of A Pining SoulEncompassing the territory of “my familiar world” are the four walls of my room, my haven I would say..helplessly and selflessly bearing my afflictions..known and unknown pain..weight of my selfish tears ,fits of anger that I vent out in my own way.Its lent a silent yet patient ear to the endless conversations..between me and myself..therein lies my bed, my comfort zone..placating in my lonely times. A familiar window letting in the neon of the streetlight on windy winter nights..the cool breeze in burning summer and the the soothing monsoon touching my face..a sensation so priceless, a sky I saw..a night sky..studded in diamonds, stands a witness to my melancholia.
Years gone by,seem to have been so with the passerby walking down the familiar street I stare at each night..drenched in the neon of my familiar streetlight.Seconds turn to minutes and hours..days turn to nights..then weeks and months and years and with it new tales of joys and sorrows,tales that are best when not shared,of people whom I loved with all my life..nearest and dearest ones..have either abandoned me forever and or left me hurt.It heard tales of euphoria…laughter in silence.Watched me on the day I vowed to turn a stoic eternally and do away with all distant expectations from life..telling me in silent words..that I never possessed a weak heart.It saw me smile at my own romantic escapades..grumble relentlessly before examinations..saw the real me, secluded from all pretentions.
Beyond the distinct periphery of my familiar world lies the unfamiliar where it costs nothing for a friend to turn a foe, a secretkeeper to turn a backstabber, a well wisher to turn ill and all discoveries be nullified each moment.Where my night sky turns day and with it highlights its components..a farse I would say. Where nothing is imperative..where someone’s pain is always a gain for the other, where pleasure is sadistic.. fake is glorified and honesty is overshadowed by the dark clouds of anguish. A world where my own smile is unfamiliar to me, where kisses do not make me feel loved, where hugs are not warm enough to melt my heart which has turned firm. Here hatred leaves me with a lesser pain than love and tears are wasted drops of saline mess. Here, to soar high one needs to pull the others down, further and farther. Promises are broken and otherwise dreadful faces go unseen even in blinding daylight behind impermeable concealments. Unfamiliarity gives rise to another set of unfamiliarity and keeping pace with it only aggravates a sense of helplessness.