Posts Tagged ‘void’

The Perpendicular Universe unfinished

Been a while, I haven’t penned anything on these leaves. I have been lost in the humdrum of the mundane. A job that sucks me in, and eats away my precious hours. Takes me away from the world of writing. But these special leaflets are always there. In the backdrop of my head. Silently calling me. Making me feel the void. Trying to make its presence felt. Then life manages to put me in front of the screen somehow, as if the croons of this blog get heard.

I wish to press these leaves with only the best. Maybe that’s what takes a lot of time. To only fill the easel with quality work. My brother had asked me to keep it as a wont, when I am in the right zone. To him it is one of my best collections hitherto, a magnum opus weaved with a keen wisdom. I intend to keep it that way. It lets me unspool myself, the real me, into validation. An introspection of sorts that might reflect the real me to a reader if there is one at all.

Today, I am squeezed into work so much that this blog stays hidden from me. I distribute myself to others, so much that I forget my own identity. But this right here, this, lets me appreciate myself. When I take a step back to look at it, I realize it is nothing but my mirror. It lets me behold the real me. It lets me fathom myself more. Words smeared on these blanks tell me that I am different. It lets me dig deeper into a head of a writer, a poet who is insanely in love with words, with a brain uplifted and a head that reeks of beautiful and sentient thoughts.

What is unfortunate is the fact that he barely has time to cover ‘em all. There is so much beauty yet to read, so many wonderful people yet to encounter, so many experiences yet to experience, so much land yet to cover, so much love yet to shower, so many unknown faces yet to scan, so many enthralling creations yet to marvel at, and there are so many gorgeous thoughts in his skull still embryonic, veiled, that can only unfurl with time. It’s a shame that it’s running out.

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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.

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Morpheus: What brings you here my child?

Me: What did I just see?

Morpheus: I just project stuff. What you choose to see is your doing. You should be thanking me for manifesting ‘her’ after so long. Trust me, seeing your heart glow is the best feeling in the world.

Me: Seeing my, what glow? Are you high?

Morpheus: I am not sure how to answer that.

Me: She is buried in the past. Why do you always bring her up? All these years, did I ever think of her? Why do you punish me then?

Morpheus: I am just trying to fill the void. I hate to see that hole. Everything craves for greater expression. Remember?

Me: But I am done thinking about her. Isn’t she like in another dimension or something now?

Morpheus: You have shut yourself out. She exists.

Me: Then I do not wish to know. She is dead to me.

Morpheus: I am sorry to hear that.

Me: Don’t you have others to bother?

Morpheus: I am with others too. I am with those who need me, also with those who don’t. I am engraved in their conscience. I am seeping in their blood. I am jostling in their thoughts. I am persistent. I am perpetual. I will always be there when there is exhaustion. I will be around as long as eyes could carry weight. I will be there when fatigue gets you. I will be smiling when bed finds you.

Me: There you go! Nobody asked for your introduction sucker. Nobody has ‘TIME’ to listen to your BS.

Morpheus: I make it stop. Time. It’s my bitch. I control it like I control your thoughts. I can make a man dream of eternity in a single hour’s sleep. I can show him naught in perpetuity. I am drenched in the blood of thoughts. I rule in the nether world and I will affect even the days, as long as people are slaves to daydreaming.

Me: Tell that to someone who gets intimidated. I like the way I am. In reality and in your fucking dreams. Just leave me be. I love living in the world without her. Without worries. Without apprehensions.

Morpheus: Without true happiness?

Me: You keep doing that. Why do you do that? You are the meanest son of a bitch, I have ever encountered.

Morpheus: I feel sorry that you think about me that way. I am just trying to help.

Me: Help? You call that help? I am alright in reality. I pass on just fine. You come and obliterate everything. Tell me one thing, though. I am curious – why was I happy when she was around, in my dream?

Morpheus: This is again your doing. I do not have control over human emotions.

Me: But you do control projections and memories. Once I go into sleep, I lose control over myself. It is as if I am hanging in space, powerless. You mess with my reality. No wonder they call you a Dreamlord. Why can’t you just show me the good stuff? Couldn’t you leave memories locked up tight in the darkest pit brain has? Or even better, just delete them permanently? Learn something from computers for a change? Huh?

Morpheus: I do not fathom the computer jargon. Bit tacky for my taste.

Me: Oh! Look! You made me laugh.

Morpheus: Memories are perennial. They will exist till the day your heart stops.

Me: My heart stopped the day that final memory read its chapter. So I suggest you don’t turn those leaflets. What is gone is gone. What might or might not come, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I believe in the moment.

Morpheus: Wow! I am definitely using that on a t-shirt.

Me: Fuck you Morpheus!

Morpheus: I shudder at the thought of seeing you void of emotions. I want you brimming with it. You do not think of her anymore. It saddens me. Dreams about her used to bring joy to your life. Her sheer memory used to lighten you up. You would go in a trance and beg me not to stop. The moment I would, you’d wake up all bummed, cursing me silently, with a voice, only I can hear and tears, only I can see. I don’t want that for you.

Me: The fuck do you care? Why don’t you just leave me alone?

Morpheus: I am afraid…..I….I….can’t…do that.

Me: Why the fuck not?

Morpheus: Because I am your figment. I am just ‘YOU’ trying to reason with yourself. I am ‘YOU’ trying to accuse someone, anyone….for that to matter, about your weakness.

I am traumatized when I see you succumb to gloom. I become elated when I see you happy. I am the reflection you have always hated yet silently adored. I am the good guy in disguise. The bad is deliberately written all over me, so that next time you see me, you curse me, scorn me, despise me, abhor me to your guts. You rip me out, tear me apart, cut me up, beat me black and blue, coz I know your temper, yet respect your passion. No matter how much you alienate me from your body, and treat me different, no matter how harsh you treat me, no matter how atrociously you ignore me, you hurt yourself in the process, you vent out all of it on yourself.

‘YOUR’ body bleeds black and blue. ‘YOU’ have a heart that doesn’t beat. ‘YOU’ have a tethered soul. Why, you ask? Because, I am ‘YOU’. I am just you, poor child!