Saturday, July 31, 2010

The Utter Lamentations of a Bard’s Jaded Mind!

By Sadho Ram

It’s almost three months now, almost! Three months of life living behind the concrete walls of a very hostile house, yes, a ‘house’ not HOME, a very-very hostile ‘house.’

And though, this house, in a very posh but quiet, not serene, ‘quiet’ locality, stands proudly with poise and confidence; a confidence that only comes to a soldier standing at the border guarding his country, but isolated; isolated from the much needed chaos of daily life and happenings, isolated from chirpings of birds in the morning, and isolated from the barks and howls of dogs in the night, in fact so isolated that his eyes longs to see a fellow human being who is receptive, but alas as he finds none, so do I, after almost three months, almost, found none with whom I could share that how it feels like to stand in crowded town, but isolated.

The only saving grace is the wind that blows here, unperturbedly, but then it carries nothing except a few more ounce of quietness; a quietness which instead of being the source of comfort and bliss, frightens the soul to that extent that the ‘remote’ which controls it, yes, that tiny piece of muscle ‘pumping gallons of blood and beating in rhythmic cycle’ in the chest, starts to shiver so peculiarly that it hurts, sometime for hours, to breathe; hours which sometime surpasses the usual day-night cycle and still continue to an unforeseen period of time, and in those ‘hours’… in those longer than day & night ‘hours’ I find myself gasping for air even though it’s flows like a river all around me, but seems as if it has barred me, cast me out from her club of lovers, from touching and feeling her, from experiencing the ecstasy that her touch would provide my soul.

Ah, how I long to be cast away from here, from this town called Barddhamaan, to that place where the wind instead of prohibiting me from ‘making out’ with her, would indulge herself in the ‘foreplay’ which would reignite the soul within; a soul that drives me and my passion – passion for people and poetry, passion for life itself, passion for adventure, passion for compassion to some extent and moreover passion for passion itself, the place called Bombay!


My mornings here start with a very unusual headache; a headache which begins its journey from one side of the head and then travels towards the other side of it, daily, leaving me in acute pain for the day that doesn’t easily ends. The days here lingers, actually it’s the feeling that lingers but seems as if the days have stopped, and so I try to endure the days and nights here and indulge myself in the work that though otherwise enlivens me but due to the catastrophically monotonous life of mine, the work too, has become so dreary that I often look at it with repulsion, yes, repulsion for that same work for which I once gave out a sumptuous banquet treat to the comrades of solace – my friends.

And as the night approaches, the restlessness grows inside; restlessness to go out ‘prowling’, to slaughter the silence that I forced myself to endure during the day, but as the night starts to discolour itself, I once again force myself, this time to endure the restlessness within. And I succeed to an extent, but then silence and restlessness are two utterly distinctive feature of human nature, and that too, with their own set of different natures, as where the nature of silence, which is like a baby, allows her to be tamed, the nature of restlessness shatters all control, like a insanely flowing river destroys any barrier that tries to forcedly stop her, thus, my soul, after losing the battle, abandons me, making me almost a ‘carcase’, which then collapses over the big bed in my BIG room, for few hours, only to come back into it and wake me up with the same headache that begins its journey from one side of the head and then travels towards the other side of it.

Sigh.

I now think that this was not what I’d imagined when I came here and this is something which I’m sure I will never experience anywhere. Before it happened, I always used to say I wonder – ‘how living alone, away from the chaos and cluster of the world will be?’ – but today when I now no longer need to ‘wonder’ about it, when I know about it more than I ever ‘wondered’ about it, I pray that – ‘if living alone, away from chaos and cluster of the world is like this, then I don’t want it, ever again, not even in my worst of dream.’

And I now wait for the September to come, like a child waits for his father to pick him up. So, till September comes, I will have to keep myself from going bonkers, which is obvious to happen if …I fail to wake myself up… when September comes!


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