How hard it could be… In my view, everyone come to realize this, sometime or the other. I too had a share of this feeling. It is as tough as it would be for a poor to survive the chilly winters.
This is why I love rains.
This is why I love strong winds.
This is why I love to go to a discotheque and sit away from the music.
This is why I love masks.
When I watch out of the biggest window in the world, I feel like I am falling apart, I feel like it is tearing me apart. I feel faded. My face lost color. It is getting worse with each tick of the hand of the clock which runs faster than the others without realizing that it will have to go again on the path it covered and didn’t care about the lagging of others.
A great blow of wind and there goes away my head, falling down, smile on the face and eyes so well gelled. I see my face now. So many days went without me catching my glance.
This is why I love strong winds. It makes me feel incomplete.
I threw it out far far away from the grand window. I turned around. The next moment, the piece I threw out of my life came like the strong wind and found its place onto my body. And there I stand, shoulders down, tired, full of anger.
This is why I hate strong winds. It tries making me complete.
I sit in the rain. So strong that wherever it struck my body, left visible scars. I found it lovely. Days passed on, my eyes fully opened, rain must have stopped a day or two back. Jelly eyes. Nobody heard me. Nobody. Nobody heard me crying aloud.
This is why I love rains.
I can go on and do whatever my heart says, without worrying for me to get infamous. Sometimes I become michael jackson and the very next time father of that old church which still struggles in its churning situations through the winds and rains which gives me a strange mixed feelings. The church can fall down and the priest which fled from the temple to the church becoming father and keeping the absent idol stand there still hearing to all the deities.
This is why I love masks. I can be a father, a teacher, a preacher, a learner, a sinner, a lover. I can fool around. I can cry loud, louder like a baby.
I tried sweeping the gel out of my eyes. But in vain. It remained there to be with me. To remind me every day, every night, every moment, blurring every vision.
This is why I hate rains. I sit to cry, to wash away my soul, my body in that acid. But it comes back and that too with the dark, viscous gel.
I went to the house of sins and still could not prey. I went to the temple and still could not pray. I hit my head with the walls in the sin house but they turned out to be cushions. I hit my head with the walls in the temple and there went away the water I was filled with.
This is why I hate masks. It never changes your soul. I continue to remain in gray shade. A bit of white and a bit of black. A bit of love and a bit of hatred.
I know I am dark. Accepting this introduces some white, bright spots. I revolve around me. I am sun for the earth I am. I am universe for the galaxy I am. I am nothing of the everything I am.
