Eerie Memoirs

Entry 1 

Don't you just hate memories! They have no physical form yet they make you feel like your entire existence is unreal. In just one moment. They blur the lines of time, years and years seem meaningless. All you see is a corporal image of you floating in space and wondering how things changed and how the hell did you get where you are. You're trapped in the same nightmare you keep waking up into.

Have you ever felt the beauty of the day transform into terror? As I pass through the gardens, I feel the ghouls gathering around me. I feel that my demons have taken physical form. I am running. I don’t want them.

I am running for what seems like hours, and suddenly, I can feel an apparition gaining on me. In the endless tunnels, I see no light. “Wouldn’t you give me a chance,” it said. “Wouldn’t you rather embrace my darkness, than revel in the false friendships of those around you?” I think, it was a dream. Nevertheless, it was very real.

I woke up screaming. As I bolted every door and window in the house, I heard the doorbell ring. I opened one door, and saw my old friend. But, all I could do was stare at him. Gradually, I reached for the doorknob and let him in. As I leapt at him, wanting to fall into his arms, he changed form. I knew it. In my heart I knew it wasn’t him. Then why did I open that door? The very feeling of wanting to spend a split second with him was so momentous, that I couldn’t resist the urge to let my demons in.

I can’t remember what happened next. I remember screaming, and shouting. I feel the frenzy even as I sleep. Those demons, they live within me. Every night I as I sleep, I feel the their conscionable presence. They haunt me. They torment me. But, time and again they remind me of how life is exactly like them - deceptive, beautiful and doomed.

I find beauty in life. When every moment ends, the next begins. In that moment, we are as alive and young as we can ever be. Beauty, I believe, seems beautiful because of how much it is destined to doom. Beauty, in its every form is appreciated, because it will never last. The rose wilts, the youth ages, and landscapes crumble into dust. And that is why honesty is so important. To live each dying moment in honesty, in full strength and resolve of pursuing your life dreams. We are destined to die the very moment we are born. Then why is there so much struggle for money, wealth, glamour, power? Why is it so coveted?

Because it is so beautiful. So powerful. Because it does not last. ‘Everlasting’ is an illusion. It’s a farce. When my demons hurt me, they bring me back to the reality. They make me realize that Life is the illusion, and death, the reality, the finality.

In all these musings, I feel like I have forgotten the world. I can’t recognise my family and friends. I feel the parasomnia. And tonight I am screaming again ; tonight I yell because I want them to stay. I want my demons to stay within me, for they make me more human, more vulnerable and enable me to experience feelings with the depth and piercing certainty of every fiber of my being.

In all my oblivion, I remember my friend. I remember his smiling face, the glint in his eyes, his reassuring touch. I remember everything about him. Like he exists in the alternate form of my reality, he exists in my illusion.

He stands guard on the borders of my phantasma and mortality, ensuring that I don’t lose myself within either worlds, that I stay there, with him, by his side. He makes me feel wonderful, and strong and beautiful. He makes my world a fairytale. It’s all so good that I never know whether it is a dream or not. My demons can’t touch him. In all my oblivion, I remember him.

Love is the most abstract reality we have. Love is the most achingly beautiful thing in this world. I wonder that is why my demons don’t let go of me. May be they want a part of it. They want to experience love, and they want me to experience love with the same intensity that I experience misery. There’s nothing more exciting about being alive than having every fiber of your being soaked in emotions. I love my demons.

The very meaning of life is our very existence, in the way we are designed. Our senses, our thoughts, each of these are a key component of our consciousness. Sometimes you listen to a song on loop, because you can't figure out exactly how you feel about it. What is it about rainfall that uplifts you? What is it about love - it's energy wraps all around you. You can physically feel it shielding you from sorrows. We are born with all that we need to truly live life, in all its ways. Yet we squander for materialistic things, and that, my friend, is the tragedy. I love the very sense of doom that the human life is destined to; it is so poetic. Don’t mangle this poetry with preordained definitions of life. Discover your existence. Substantiate your life. Embrace your demons.

The Girl Who Cried

Tears filled her eyes as she hung up the phone. Yet she made her way through the crowd and moved forward to work. Life hadn’t given her that option to relax or unwind and be who she wanted to be.

She had a plan. And, she was committed to making it happen. As she found a train and cleared her face of the big beads of tears it adorned… she noticed a boy. He was not more than 12. He was trying to make a sale.

His hands were full of cheap stationery products and too huge for him to hold. It was almost as if he was drowning into his own baggage, yet, he seemed to exude the determination to walk steadily enough and make a sale.

He’d made up slogans, and was singing them out loud. His eyes showed the pain of his struggle, yet somehow his face was lit up with a smile.

At that moment, she wondered, what misery this boy must face. She wanted to go there and give him some money, but it seemed too impersonal for the connection she had with him – any money would just belittle his troubles. She knew that no material gains would make her tears go away.

 She wanted to go and buy something from him, but she couldn’t find the courage to look directly into his eyes.  It was a matter of shame for her. She wondered deeply and closed her eyes to let the tears flow away, as she broke into a hint of a smile.

Often we pray to our Gods, asking for wealth, courage, happiness… May be what we don’t realise, is that, we already have it all. It’s very easy to ask for more. Greed is such an ordinary feeling. The feeling of satisfaction is rare. That is what saints are made of.

The girl-who-cried, realised how little her heart was, how shallow her thoughts were. True happiness lies inside us, but it glorifies, when we see the light in other’s faces. Most people are so busy with their lives that they fail to acknowledge their loved ones, or thank God for the roof on their head and the food in their plate.

We are so busy in looking into our own troubles and magnifying them that we turn into selfish beings just hollowed by our very existence.

The girl in tears forgot her misery when she looked at the pre-teen boy trying to make a sale. He didn’t lose hope. May be he was robbed of his day’s work by some sick drug-dealer, or he earnings of the day were taken away by his drunk father, or he had to pay for a relatives hospital bills.

The little boy did not even find a chance to enjoy his earnings, and yet she cried over a petty fight for a stupid movie or a dinner party. Isn’t there more to life than our own worries?

The little boy never gave up his grit and determination to make the sale. He moved on with his life, notwithstanding the circumstances.

The same stands true for us. The best thing about Time is that it’s never the same. If you feel the Good days pass by too quickly, so do the bad ones.

All I’m trying to say is, joy or sadness is momentary. What lasts is the deed you’ve done for another. For, any efforts that you make for the happiness of others will truly lift you above yourself.

Sadness is an inevitable feeling. Without it’s existence, we wouldn’t know what happiness would mean. So, it’s okay to be the girl-who-cried. But, don’t forget to thank God for all that he has given you. There will be a day, when it won’t be there, and however little you thought it was, you would realise it meant a lot.

Rise above yourself. Like the little boy was thankful, so you must be.

You must think that somewhere on the way in this write-up, there’ll be a moment, when the girl gets out of her own troubles and helps the boy. But that’s not what happens. When you have to give or share a feeling, it’s not about how rich or poor you are. It’s about how sensitive your heart is to a stranger’s life.

It’s ironic how a small boy with far less means than the girl, could help her forget her sorrows and grow. He gave her a gift… A gift of a moment that she would never forget, and a lesson for life which she would always cherish, no matter how good or bad the times are – he gave her A lesson of Gratitude and Togetherness.

Give it a thought – “How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world.”

Let’s make an effort to look beyond ourselves and be humans, in the true sense.