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.

From the ink-blots in my notebook

Dear Friend,

I don’t know how you feel. Or how must I console you. I am not that good a counsel, but I am going to try. For all these years I’ve known you, I’ve watched you grow into an amazing person – stronger, yet mellow, with each passing year. But today, I am moved. I am moved by how strong you’ve been. I am moved by how brave you are. I can’t imagine a day in life without my beloved. And, yours has flown miles apart. How could you survive that? And still be so strong? I admire you.

Every time I see you cry I see a person stronger than I knew. Your heart is forged of tensile steel, stretching oceans apart, yet unbreakable.  Every time I see you cry, I cry – not because I am sad for you. No, my love. I cry because nothing makes me happier than to see you’re so strong in the face of such life-turning events. I cry because I see my friend has found untainted love on the face of this evil planet.

My friend, you are one of the luckiest people alive. You have a man, who has filled your world with so much love, that it physically hurts you when he departs. Cry. May be, it will make you stronger. I don’t know how things work. But I do know this – yours is the purest heart I have ever known. In the face of adversity, you shall rise from your tears, and fight those difficulties with a smile on your face. Not only because you are strong enough to fight, but also because you are brave enough to face your demons.

I can physically feel the utter mayhem in your heart. You're trapped in the same nightmare you keep waking up into. Days are turning into nights. Time seems to have come to a standstill, yet it seems like time is passing by too fast. You don’t know how to feel. What is it about love – it’s energy wraps all around you. You can physically feel it shielding you from sorrows. But, still your heart breaks. It’s not even consciousness; it’s just an awareness in the dark.

It must be killing you from inside every time he goes away. But look at you coming back to life again, just to see if he’s okay. Imagine that time, few years from now, when you see him again. He might have changed, grown as a person, lost some weight, may be. But, as he walks towards you again, smiling, looking into your eyes. You’ll know. You’ll know it’s the same smile. It’ll be like he’d never gone away. That, my friend, is an achievement; an achievement which ordinary couples like ourselves will never experience, may be because we are not strong enough to stay apart.

But you, my dear, you are made of far superior stuff – your heart is made of the stars, and who else, but you could be ever present in his life? You are the reason he holds on, when he wants to let go. Your love shields him from the evil, and your memories soothe him like a balm, at the end of a painful day. You are his everything. Don’t break down, my dear. I shall stand by you.

Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and kindles the great.* Burn bright, my friend. Burn bright. There is no greater glory, than to be forged through the fires of hell. The fire will give you power and your heart will give you strength – your love will rise above the ashes. You, my dear, shall survive.

Forever and always,

Your friend

*Quote by Roger de Bussy-Rabutin

Picture Courtesy : @geetshah26

Feelings

Sometimes, when you hear something very hurtful, there’s a physical pain you feel in your chest. It feels as though you’ve been violated.

Your world has been vandalised, and when you look around, you can literally see the good days just floating in empty space, blurring out into your tear drops.

Pain is a feeling harder to describe than love – the feeling that eats you up and throws you down and vanquishes your faculties to even act coherently.

To every person, his pain seems the greatest. Truth is very hard to accept, but it’s even harder when you not only accept the truth, but also embrace the consequences that come along.

And, it is that wretched moment, when you want to speak your heart out, however much shipwrecked you may be…

It’s unnerving when you muster up all the courage you have, to confront the one you love about how you feel.

You’re short of words…sometimes, breath! You’re choking at every thought and your head spins, but you feel you’ve finally made it. You’ve shared how you feel. The battle against tears has not been won; alas, it has just begun.

‘Painful’ isn’t even the word, to begin with. You try to be numb, but you are not. You can feel the agony in your heart – you feel a physical torture inside your head and the inflictions of those emotional wounds on your corporal being. It’s like your mind is numb, to everything but the hurting and throbbing; your head’s heavy and all you see is a glare of colours disintegrating into their natural forms – you’ve lost the capacity to distinguish between your pain and reality.

The heart aches for love, and it aches more of curiosity. Expectation is such a bitch!

It’s painful when you can’t convey how desperate and lonely you are for someone’s love and acceptance. What stings more is, when all the courage you’ve amassed, have turn into hollow words – because, they can only hear your feelings, they can’t understand.

Colours

Where do I go? I wonder. There is this ardent desire to break free. I wanna fly.

I have been thinking about these colors for some time. I feel like they’re almost trying to be vocal. They’re almost like a cure for my pain. Or maybe a consolation to my fears. They seem to break my sense of disillusion and take me into a beautiful world- a bright, lively and vibrant world. Yet how is it that every time I try to feel them, they seem to disappear?

There is much more to this tint than being a mere figment of imagination. Or maybe I am just foolish enough to try and find meaning out of something so trivial. I don’t know. The more I try to discover them, the more intensely they seem to blend. They seem to merge to such a extent that a magnificent glare is produced that blinds me. And soon enough before I regain my senses, they crumble into their natural forms… and I am back to where I began. So significant, yet so alarmingly inconsequential! I almost figured out what they were trying to tell me, and suddenly my words come crashing.

My words are not eternal. It is a harrowing process of blending together, yet it takes only a split of a moment to disintegrate! Just like, it takes a lifetime to come together, and a moment to withdraw. Wonder how do I forget things? They haunt me. I am hanging on a hope that is already shattered. The idea of forgetting is unacceptable, and remembering things only makes me realize that I’m desperately trying to maintain a promise that is already wrecked. Its vexingly eccentric. I am beginning to understand my slow slide into madness.

Words

It’s like time has played the most ruthless wager on me. Pen testing … 1... 2... 3...

Works! Hah. So, words just flow through a pen? It is a medium for thoughts to flow, and not the origin. Where I stand, right now, I wonder why each and every relation in my life seems so distant. There is a sense of disconnection. Like, a certain level of understanding is lost.

There is an emptiness in my life. Ugh. The more number of people I meet, further lonely I feel. Is there anything I can fill my life with?

There is a thought in my mind which I might fervidly want to express at this juncture. But an effort is being taken to forgo, and move on. Nonetheless, the effort is otiose.

Paradoxically, where my strength emerges from, is where I need it the most. Like, my mind exudes so much power that eventually it can’t get a hang of things for a while. It’s grueling.

There are people I love. A lot. I wanna give them my love, and feel good, probably great. The exultation of gifting love, which is so perfect. Impeccable! I don’t know. I don’t know where this write-up is taking me. May be it’s just helping me tune my judgments, which are precisely, extremely harsh on my own self.

Like, an explosion of thoughts, and fragmented images joined together to form the distorted picture of my chaotic life.

Time is not the greatest healer I’ve met. Nonetheless, it remains the greater preacher I know of. I promise to do full justice to it.

This pen doesn’t seem to be the perfect agent of my words. Thoughts are still rambling. I can’t seem to find a flow.

Probably, there is none. Probably, all I need is nothing. There is nothing that is amiss. Yet, this stretching hollow in my heart; it’s like the tunnel that separates me from the rest of the world, where I hear various significant voices reverberate, and tell me something so inspiring, yet so alarmingly inconsequential as opposed to the vast hollow of the tunnel. Worthless, muted and woeful. Like voices are dimmed as I move forward; only to find myself completely absent in the world I have created for myself. Like, I’ve gone adrift; perplexed, I can’t find what I’m looking for. Where am I, I wonder. I’m tangled in my own labyrinth of words. Words, that empower me, only vanquish my faculties to sensate, comprehend and respond. Like, they’ve left me with a feeling that I can’t even dredge up, or achieve all my life. A feeling that leaves me, with nothing but tears that wordlessly flow down my cheeks. Wordless.

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