Enchantment of the Universe

Have you ever realized how small, how very miniscule your existence is, as compared to the huge populace of this planet, of this galaxy? Have you ever thought beyond yourself? I believe we need to grasp the vastness of nature to realize how very insignificant our lives our, yet there is so much substance in our individuality.

I remember that night I stayed on the mountain top, staring at the most enthralling night sky I had ever witnessed. The sky grew darker, and slowly dissolved into deeper shades of the night. I swear to you, even the most jaded city-dweller like me was awestruck and unexpectedly moved by unfathomable night-sky studded with millions of twinkling stars.

I felt sheltered in the outdoors. That night, I found myself within nature. Like the old-folk, I sat all night staring at that perfect sky and the backdrop of those grandiose mountains, standing tall. They spoke to me, those mountains – they made me realize that I am nature. As I stared at the sky, I thought of my entire existence, and at the same time I was so dazed.

The constellations, in their entirety, were a vast blue cosmic ocean, without any shore. And, here in the bliss of solitude, I gazed at the night. The blanket of this dazzling night covered the thousands and thousands of sleeping people, and their singular, rosy dreams.

I had fallen in love with those stars; I had fallen in love with myself, when I was beneath that serried godliness of stars. I realized that you can live your entire life in one moment, if you consume the beauty around you. When I came back I was a different person. I developed the capacity to find the magic of that night in everything I saw.

There is no limit on love, or being loved. That night I realized that I was one with the stars. As miniscule every star is in the infinite night sky, each and every little starlet is equally momentous in adding to its remarkable, unparalleled beauty. That night I realized – I am a star.

Photo courtesy : @geetshah26 (click to view his work)

Eerie Memoirs

Entry 2

I feel nausea in my own skin. I feel a sickness growing inside of me. On the outside, I feel completely normal and calm. However, in my head there are voices. They are telling me how wretched and dismal my very existence is. They remind me that I am nothing. They are piercing into my soul.

I cry every day. Very few days have gone by in the past decade that I have not cried. There have been so many inflictions. There has been so much pain. I just want to retire into a perennial sleep.

I feel haunted – my mind is wasted, my body is tired. Like, an old forest, I feel withered, dead from the inside. Like dark creatures live within a dead forest, malevolence and barbarism thrive within me. It’s scary how beautiful this doomed jungle is; it’s my soul, I’m telling you. It’s my very soul that is filled with darkness that torments my existence each day. It torments me enough to want to die, yet not enough to murder me. There is so much quiet here, I can hear my heartbeats like a drum. There is no air here, yet I still feel poisoned as I breathe in the everlasting depravity within this murkiness.

Every so often a bit of sunlight might pierce the withered canopy, but this ray of hope brings so much more hopelessness to my entire existence. That little spark of optimism, the very anticipation of getting out of this labyrinth of madness, is a farce. Hope is a farce.

I want it to end. This hope is not letting me take my own life. This love around me is not letting me strangle myself to death. I don’t know why but ever so often in this forest of despondency and agony, grows a little flower of happiness and hope.

I wonder how much more I must suffer to close this vile canopy to the outside world. I want this desiccated forest to consume me from within. I want that agony to come out of me as I die, and envelope my soul as I strangle myself, finding peace in every moment of breathlessness. I wish to die.

Photo courtesy - @geetshah26 (click to view his work) 

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

Spiritual Anarchy

All these years, life has been changing. A lot. Everyday. And, I feel that substance – the shift from one day to the next. It’s like a boulder added to the heap every new time.  I don’t even blink. I hear voices and cry. I am trapped inside my head. It’s dark and cold here. Sometimes, I see the light. I feel its God coming to my rescue. I am not sure. Most of my days, I have found solace in religion. I have found peace in temples, but not in the heart within.

Have you ever been in an accident? It’s like when you fully recover from a calamity, but still feel the rush of the aftermath – that’s how I feel. You know, even silence is something you can hear. It’s even deafening, at times. Have you ever seen someone writhe in pain, screaming noiselessly? It’s the greatest outcry for help from within. It’s the heart crying.

I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t know why I write these things. I feel like I am in frenzy all the time, trying to fight everything all at once. In my head, I’ve given up. I want to physically hurt myself sometimes, to see if bodily pain is greater than the heartache that I bear. I don’t want to die, but I often feel like I want to take my own life.

I’m free-falling into the recesses of my past. I am floating somewhere, mid-air. There is an odd sense of peace as I plunge into the darkness. I feel like I belong here. This is my chaos. This was where I was always meant to be.

Mid-afternoon ramblings

I walked the same road again. I missed her. I have never felt so forlorn in a crowd. Never have I felt so obscure on this road. I can see us sitting by the ocean, looking into its vast expanse and talking and laughing. We never held hands. We never kissed. But it was romantic. It was friendship.

I admit I haven’t spent all these years moping. I had been watching her from afar. But now it was time for us to meet. She lived inside her head now. Seeing things she wanted to see, conjuring images and bringing them to life. She was crazed. She loved the solace of her mind.

‘Hey,’ I said as I brushed her hand, feeling her cool, silky skin. But, she looked blank. Inside her head, I knew there was a storm and I could literally feel the energy from her mind exuding into the room.

I was scared, and I didn't know if she even recognized me anymore. But she just held out her hand and said, ‘Hold my hand, and I will keep you safe.’ This was my only chance. This was the closest I had gotten in years. So, I decided to do it. I closed my eyes, and lied down next to her, probing through the recesses of my mind for an ounce of spirituality. There was none.

In my entire life I didn't feel as religious as I felt that very moment, as I said ‘Dear God.’

I was right there, in that house. Broad daylight had transformed into the dark of midnight. In the very corner of our room, I saw it. It adorned a dark robe, and it was breathing. It was like smoke, but thick and somehow, alive. As it consumed me, I went on travelling to other places. I was breathing it, living its thoughts, feeling its cool rush under my skin.

I looked at her. ‘Now, is the best part. Hold on tight,’ she said smiling. The next thing I knew, we were walking through a path. Those coloured flags captivated me. We walked through the woods until we reached a cabin. It was like the place had no life. None. I didn't even know where I was standing anymore. As I walked into the cabin, I saw it. I saw it all. I didn't know if this was real, or was I just losing my mind?

All my feelings had taken form. I felt like my emotions amplified. It was almost like I was out of my own body and staring at another version of me – a more ethereal version of me. I saw us reunite there. I saw that were together again sitting by the ocean and being carefree. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I felt queasy. As though the smoke I was breathing was slowly poisoning me. So, I let go of her and quickly walked out.

I saw her there – holding on to the bars of the window, peering into the sunlight. Her eyes were empty, and her face seemed pale. I wanted to bring her out of the labyrinth of emotions she had tangled herself in. I wanted to be the awakening she needed. I knew this was going to hurt me more than I could ever endure. I simply sighed, and looked at her face, and in that very moment I knew what I had to do. I reached for her hand and went back into a trance.

As we walked back through the mirth of the city lights, all I could remember was that faded photograph; but my memories were still afresh. There is nothing more fulfilling than pure, unadulterated friendship.

Alter Egos

I remember Jeremy. He was sweet, and harmless. When he said hello, it was like somebody had died. He seemed so constipated. Then I heard he stabbed that Parker kid with a butcher knife. There was no way in hell he could’ve pulled off a murder. He couldn’t even defend himself from little Jenny on her bike. The boy had no muscle.

But then, he’d done it. He’d stabbed Parker nine times. It’s been over a year that I look after Jeremy at the LK General Hospital. I’ve been meeting him for over sixteen months now. He still has no memory of that night. Then, there are times I encounter his alter-ego, Clive. He says he did it. Initially, I found it hard to believe that this could be true. But, I know when someone is telling the truth, and I saw the fear in this little boy’s eyes.

During my meetings with Jeremy, I saw different facets of his character. I met Marvin, who is the first, and the main personality living within Jeremy. He is twenty eight years old, has blue eyes and brown hair. The second personality is William, twenty one years old, British. These two are the minds that control the remaining personalities that exist within Jeremy. Clive is the mercenary who controls the frustration and hate. There was the poor criminal, Sean, who was always a victim; and, lastly, a four-year-old boy called Joey.

In the mind of Marvin, he had been raped by his step-father. He told me during our meet that he was eight or nine when it happened and he distinctly remembers the day like a movie playing in his head. What would a child do at such a helpless, tender age? He’s too young to report the incident to the police, and might be neglected by his mother. May be this was why Marvin had always been the suicidal one.


To gain a deeper understanding of Jeremy’s personalities, I met with his parents, foster care supervisor and school friends. When I visited the foster care, I noticed that boys were being bullied by young men and administrators. When I met Jeremy’s father, I knew he was the one Marvin was afraid of. He seemed like a person capable of molesting his son. He also seemed like the one who would indulge in domestic violence. I saw gashes and wounds on Jeremy’s mother’s arms and neck. When I asked her about it, she gave me that apathetic look. Well, at least I knew where Marvin and Clive came from. Jeremy was afraid, but he also wanted to act on his fear.

Jeremy was good at the arts, explained his teachers. But he was bullied for the same. The boy who Jeremy murdered, Parker, was a senior. He locked up Jeremy in the girls’ locker room and oppressed him for hours. To make this worse, he video-taped it and made it viral across the school. Imagine the anger within Clive. The crime scene had photos of Jeremy passed out in a pool of blood next to Parker’s dead body. The feeling of anger within Clive was so intense that it physically drained Jeremy.

Each personality had its own need to come out and live in the outer world.  For instance, in a dangerous situation when there is need for defence, Clive would come out and fulfil his duty. Another example is just before Jeremy was found at the crime scene of Parker’s murder. Two days ago, Sean had set out to find a new job, and over the weekend Marvin had been reading a book about Great Leaders. All these personalities had their area of expertise, and when Jeremy was in a peaceful situation; William took charge and decided who would do what. For most of the time, this arrangement worked out without a glitch.

None of these personalities shared memory with one another. Only William could see what the others were doing. Imagine every time you wake up you didn’t even know where you were, or what you were doing. I could only imagine Jeremy waking up in a street with torn clothes and wounds all over his body, absolutely clueless as to what has been going on. Of all the papers I found in Jeremy’s file, there was a detailed rap sheet of various crimes that the same criminal wouldn’t commit. He was accused of rape, shop-lifting, and gang violence. It was almost as if each personality had a violent streak to them.

Sean and Joey were more dormant. I figured they were more empathetic towards Jeremy’s life, and the few memories he hopelessly held on to. He may have had a few good memories, which could’ve been instrumental in soothing his aggravation. I wish I knew him better to help him. Jeremy’s story breaks my heart. He was found dead in his cabin few days ago. I just presumed it could’ve been Marvin or William. Weak minds like Jeremy’s can’t handle stress well. They can’t help themselves the way we do. May be Jeremy was a victim all his life, but wanted to break out of it. In his mind, Jeremy could have created alternate visions of his reaction to the oppression he was subjected to. Mysteries that are hidden in the subconscious mind of people and are not so easy to identify.

This kind of mental state is a hint at the depths and power of the subconscious mind. As humans we are the most developed form of species on this planet. We must have a wide perspective to understand the power of the mind. May be more testing into this disease might someday bring about methods to hone the central function of our body – the brain.

The brain is wider than the sky. We all have very powerful minds and, we don’t realise how our subconscious mind governs our daily life, slowly moving it towards the lifestyle we truly desire. The paradox of reality is that no image is as compelling as the one which exists only in the mind’s eye.

You can be whatever you want to be. It’s just a matter of how strongly you believe in it.