Can I confess?

Can I confess, asked the mind contemplating the thoughts that evade reality. The words felt heavy, the screams louder, but there was silence all along. Why do the words evade this reality? Why is it so afraid of the light of the day? Why do they find comfort in the privy of the night, lurking in the shadows, screaming yet silent? Why not let the heart ease its pain, by letting go? The turmoil and the vigor that they hold settling in the mind with a spectacular view of the life that goes by. Life, ah paradigm of reality.

A dilemma surrounded the epiphany. And when asked about things that matter : Confusion. Fear. Ego. Desertion. "The weather is nice today, isn't it?" Evasion. Why? The insecurities haunt the monotony of revelation. The aftermath seems catastrophic, a word of which is like a domino in precise perfect position that could snowball down the slope, never to be recovered. Let go of things, they said. That is when the diary saw the fluorescent light of the night, warming up the pages with tears that hugged the words dearly, a solace in disguise, freedom to the caged bird. But let me take a shot : Love and Life !

Love ? You asked me a thousand times; I just evaded the answer. What is love but a coalition of two minds, two hearts beating in unison. No, I have never loved. I have never wanted to love. I kept that part of the heart blocked away, hidden so deep that I have lost it altogether. "So, whom do you love?" Your question resonated in my mind. "No one," I said. "I haven't found the right one," I said. You thought I lied. But, I did tell the truth. For love was something so far away for me, I never contemplated its presence around me. To be fair, I never deserved the love to love. I kept my promise to self.

"What do you want to do ? Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" A question that haunted a few nights. You might have heard something climbing up the ladder, this place, that place. I had articulated a well rehearsed story, however different to each person. I lied. In my constant contemplations and searching for the answer, I have crossed a few five years and the result was not what I had expected. What did I expect? If I could articulate it in a word: nothing. If I could say it in an essay, it is still nothing. But if you insist, all I see is a limbo of darkness, a paradoxical emptiness, an abyss breathless.

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This is written for #BlogChatter Prompt of the Week : Can I confess?

PS : Can I confess? I guess, I can't.

PPS: Thanks to IQ for editing and a brilliant comment. Forever in debt! :)

Thoughts Concealed.

Totally lost it..Wait! What's my name.

- Reporter from The Daily Blogger

Get me an aspirin. This is giving me aches, head ache.

- Blogger News Crew

Oh darn! Why? Why didn't I just ignore?

- People from different parts of the world

He drank the emptiness of the thoughts. He was lost, or so he thought. One after one came those thoughts which made no sense. Or were they even thoughts or just empty vessels which made annoying noises. Its North at one time, its Flemings left hand Rule the other or South one time, and its the improper shaped amoeba the other time. He didn't had a firm ground to lay his feet, a firm pillow to lay his head or a firm book to pen down his thoughts. Thoughts? What are they? I started doubting myself after the fleeting events of drifts in this person's imagination. So, what am I thinking? Skydiving (No, I read it recently), hmm...yeah yeah, Love...or is it swimming or is it the new game Assassins Creed . What was I thinking? Wait, let me come again. 

The night lay illuminated by the sodium vapor lamps and the shiny building names that sparkle and dance their way in the emptiest darkness. The cold breeze is obstructed by the window plane which was shut to avoid the the treacherous insects from getting inside. But he went out to let of some steam. Steam? He just came out of hot shower! Lol No.The misguided thoughts which made no sense of what were leading him to. It was one peaceful night and the cold breeze was refreshing. But he tried keeping his mind at rest without thinking anything. The more he tried not to think anything, the more he thought. The result? The steam just got hotter. 

He was at rest. His mind was blank this time. The full bass of the music plugged in ears was unheard. The songs ended, the people's chatter started but he was unconscious to their speech and sound. He was steady and motionless. He was lost this time, like for real. Or was he sleeping. Yeah, he slept. Thats' what I thought. 

He was laughing. Laughing looking at his cell phone. Some weird text may be. He replies to it. And then frowns. He smiles again, like a child. He again texts back. It continues until he gets no reply. He throws one nasty swear at the phone, pays the bill for the coffee, plugs in the iPod and off he goes back to his well... umm... splattered thoughts.

He looks attentive. He must be planning something. A person, may be his friend is explaining him something. Oh, he is listening to whatever he is saying swinging his head. Why doesn't he reply then? Why just he keeps nodding his face. Another person precedes over the former speaker and continues. Oh, there he speaks for a brief moment and then the former person continues with his explanation and then there is a brief silence. Like the one after the baby stops crying.

He looks irritated. He is with his friends at a shopping mall. Oh no, not that guy. He doesn't buy anything but checks each and every damn thing. He calls it research. Who the hell cares? He drags his feel and looks really irritated by this guy. They are in an expensive showroom and the price tags shows more than two months salary and even more and these geeks are there exploring the possibility that when they win a Billion Dollars in lottery, they may be able to buy half of whats there at that showroom. Oh No..Nooo! His friend goes to another crazy section. It is more likely that they are going to spend the night at the showroom only.

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Oh, yeah. I am super bored. No. I was just trying to get that sympathetic look. People don't give that look for getting bored. Whatever! But I sure hit that writer's block. So, here I am trying to make sense of things, known and unknown, familiar and unfamiliar, right and wrong, left and right, up and down, umm.. you get the point, don't you. Most impimportantly, I'm battling with words, the right words to say, to express, to vent?, to ramble?, to speak, to write. I do feel that this isn't the end of the road, but is it? It sure feels like it. 

Words.

Rumble, Mumble, Jumble, 

I play with the words, 

Despite they making no sense

I end up killing the essence.

I try, you know, 

But all I get is a space, 

So Void, So Blank, 

Yet, I try to paint anything but Black.

I see an empty vessel
Waiting to be complete
I put my thoughts to fill
Perhaps, it needs much more skill.

They say, there is light
At the end of the tunnel.
But where does the tunnel begin
And where does it end?

I try to reason
With Past and Present.
So I mention in assumption,
But, Its' just my imagination.

The pieces lay scattered,
I try to assemble them.
Easy as it seems, Much difficult it is.
After all, I just Rumble, Mumble and Jumble.

- Ajay Kontham [ 2012]

#Jumble #Worambling #Words 

P.S. : I think the title of the Post isn't that apt. Actually, there wasn't supposed to be any Post-Script. I felt like it was empty-sort-of, so I am filling this up with much more ... what do we call it ? hmm...er..yeah...Nonsense!