Posts Tagged ‘incomplete’

The Perpendicular Universe Man In A Bottle
What is your biggest fear? Have you ever tried to slow down your high-paced life for a while and wasted a thought on the aforesaid? What are you afraid of? I don’t want your answer to be mere literal. I don’t want it to circle sheer material. Of course, you are afraid of cockroaches and lizards. But what I implore is something more significant. I want the meaningful you to give it a proper scrutiny. Just spend a thought. Brood over it. Slow down for a bit. Sit down for a while. Wear your thinking cap. Squeeze some time for yourself and think!

Aren’t you afraid of passing away incomplete? That one day death visits you out of the blue and you realize that you haven’t lived, and that you expected more from life? What if you hear the death knell tomorrow and you discern that there was a deed in you dying for an action, something you really wanted to do but couldn’t get enough time to sign it off?

Does it shatter you to know that you haven’t really done anything in your life? That you have been trying to simply earn the greens hitherto to just make a living? That all you did was a mere waste of your time? And that whatever you achieved so far didn’t matter at all? Does it hurt to know that you don’t really have any talents? That the word ‘talent’ simply betrays your distortion?

How does it feel to know that things left unsaid could have actually resurrected you from dead? What if the moments that you had let go inadvertently, were actually the ones you should have seized to get rid of the emptiness you feel?

Aren’t you afraid of disappearing in thin air? That one day people would forget you like you never existed? There wouldn’t be any stories sung or songs written in your name. That your existence wouldn’t garner fame? That your life would simply hammer into the ordinary?

Are you not afraid of not finding out your purpose in life? Doesn’t that bum you out? Not knowing the reason of your existence? Embracing the death hug with wool over your eyes? That you were conceived in darkness and that in the end, the same darkness is going to swallow you?

Are you not afraid of being locked up on this planet? Does it not bother you? That you can’t get out? What if the truth of it all is so excruciating that it shatters you to million pieces? Knowing the truth, is it not going to affect you? Don’t you have myriad expectations? What will happen to those stereotypes that you have been spoon fed by earthlings then?

My biggest fear is dying without being understood. Knowing that I shall perish without someone getting me implodes me. How pitiful that is! What a tragedy!

I am afraid that I might perish unbloomed. That something despicable will accidentally swallow me, chew me and spit me out without knowing my worth. I am afraid of dying unheard. That my shrieking voice would not make it anywhere. I am afraid that I might fall with this emptiness in my guts and that I would take it to my grave. I am afraid that my coffin would feel empty even with my dead presence. It bothers me to know that my dead would reek of death and not of a life lived.


Are we truly happy? Is that smile that signs our face an enduring one? Name a thing that you want the most in life, and you are still not fully satisfied when you get it. There is ecstasy, there is joy, but it is ephemeral. What is eternal is the longing. The desire to find something we don’t know about. All we know is we are lost without it. We don’t have answers. May be it is, what we look for.

I often find myself stuck in thousands of possible realities floating inside my head. Stories that might not ever happen. Bodies that would never possibly take shape. Realities which might probably never head towards realism. Faces that would never probably don a name. Dreams that are as good as dead. I often search for a known face in the face of a well-known. I feel obscured, estranged even in the company of friends. My vision finds a weird emptiness like I am staring at a hollow face and responding like a cursed ghost.

We all have faced this monster that devours us from within. That blank space inside where our soul hangs freely, dead. We could be really having a blast but all we feel few moments later: something ain’t right.

There are these moments like tides, not a single flow steady, only dancing to its own rhythm. One moment we are joyous, elated to have found, what we believe, true happiness, the other we find it ebbing away, leaving a sour taste on our palate. Why are emotions so fickle?

No matter how brimming our glass is, we still feel that emptiness. I like to believe it’s the void our souls have to carry and that we are in search of our soul mates throughout our lives. We have “lost soul mates”, lost in the crowd of over a bazillion souls falling down to the planet. Finding our reflection amongst these fallen angels is not an easy job. So we are bitter, and forever looking. I believe that explains the eternal emptiness we feel. That incomplete feeling as if something is still missing. Something is out there and that we have to find it.

The story of Aristophanes, in the Plato era, makes you ponder. Did we once have four arms and four legs? Were we really sewn together? Are we all just an aftermath of Zeus’ wrath?

Even though we have everything, why do we still feel halved? As if our better half is lost in that bazillion walking deads and we wouldn’t know how to be alive unless we fix ourselves. It is as if we are broken toys and our parts are strewn across different places. Unless we find every body part, every screw that completes us, we wouldn’t rest. We wouldn’t feel that ultimate satisfaction. Is that our only purpose? Finding ourselves?

We are simply looking for ourselves in different humans. It is probably why the mirror feels so appealing. It is why our thoughts fathom us so well. Our brain endeavors to complete us. When we reason with ourselves we always end up feeling victorious because after all it is us, lodged on both sides of the coin.

S.T. Coleridge points out in Letter to a Young Lady:

“To be happy in Married life…you must have a soul-mate.”

Some believe our soul mates are the ones we marry. But what if our decisions end up being wrong? Did we really end up with our soul mate then? Some might ask this at such an hour:

“If marriages were made in heaven, did God intend me to be sad?”

What is pathetic is the fact that we are forever seeking to fill our voids. We find out similarities and assume instantly, we have found it, found our soul mate. We are so bent on searching for it that we give a nod to anything that comes close to understanding us. Then we wish our search has found its closure. Then we hope our lookout can finally be destroyed. But it is only after a while, when you are knee deep in a relationship, you realize it couldn’t have been so. That you have made a mistake. Your emptiness tells you that. Your gut feeling munches on your guts then.

Some say that soul mates are mere harmonious people in our lives, people who we go along well with, and that we are in search of our twin flame or twin soul, our original base soul that we separated from. Well, there are a lot of theories but what really fascinates me is this entire concept. What if it were all true? This emptiness I feel, could be something my soul mate might be harnessing in a different part of the world. If only there was an everlasting thread that bound us somehow and that stories in our lives somehow drew us closer to each other every day, we would know our purpose is imminent.

Whatever the case may be, it feels good that we have a spiritual connection, but at the same time it feels disheartening that we would still remain perpetually incomplete.