Walking Away: Part II

And it continues, my clueless, rudderless journey. A languid careen with a hazy vision overshadowed by incertitude. Along my path, many dissonant noises tried to gain my attention. Cacophony of cars passing by, a sudden bark of a dog aimed at me for anonymous reasons. Ubiquitous chattering of birds, which some may find pleasing. But a particular shrill, a high pitched static had my attention from the start.

Upon unwrapping of this inexplicable mystery which eclipsed the worldly sound, I found nothing. Just a static high pitched mechanical 'scream', which I believe has been originating from me since a long time. The calling, which I refused to listen to for countless days, had come again to haunt me again.

As the nights and days rolled simultaneously and I see people with ebullient smiles on their faces but then I look down and watch my feet moving and imagine my face: A blase expression with hint of a baleful look. And then my mind gets cruelly chastened into the remembrance of that god-forbidden noise which now I'm not able to spurn.

But suddenly, my mind opens to reason which has been hiding from me ever since and I found the key to the black box within me. I opened it perilously and trepidation surrounds me. Like a news of great despair, it was all pessimism and cynicism around. It is empty. The box was empty.

I finally realize that it was all about emptiness from the start. A state of void. A state of hollowness. A state of vacuity.

It has been a month since I started walking on the undefined path, and despite some undulations I feel like I'm rising above it. Above all of it.

I guess, no matter how painful or dreadful the answer must be, it's always better than staying unanswered. But, however, that doesn't change a thing. I am still hearing that godforsaken scream-like hum, shrilling down to the very core of me. During my disappointed jaunt, I've seen many elated faces than that of mine and many joyless ones like white paper sheets. Surprisingly, that contented me somehow...made me feel not the most ill-fated conscious being on the face of this earth.

But then again, some of those faces forced me to reminisce. Compelled me to close my eyes and remember those faces which I failed to recall at times. I felt like some old man living in his past, but it was out of my control, out of any earthly restraints. Then, even for a moment there, it was all-white, without that noise. Stopped at individuality, at some sort of eternal singularity. White, similar to those fearful faces but completely different.

Thence I realize, it was all me, a fault of mine, a glitch in my mind. Then I began to understand, Loneliness comes suddenly like waves and recedes just as fast. That continues on forever. It's the same for me. It’s the same for you. It’s the same for everyone.

...And I opened my eyes. The vision is clear, uncluttered and untangled. So is my mind.

The noise has been dimmed but is still omnipresent, of which I do not care. Because I know though I still don't have a destination but I definitely have a unmistakably distinct path, of which I'm sure, will lead me somewhere..somewhere. I see the evening closing by, my feet are aching but I have a stupid broad smile upon my face. Under an orange, dusky sky,

I'm still walking...Walking away

21st Sanctuary

The dark age is not too near not too far,
When gods will lose their insight,
And men will lose his state of par,
Making the sun plead for light.

Many shall die in the dead of night,
In the prologue of cruelty,
Mercilessness at the top of its height,
When the world will its sanity.

The earth would die, so would life,
Darkness and vileness will prevail.
Beloved will be killed by hatred or by knife,
As this time the savior shall fail.

As this time the tech. advances would fail,
The proud men are growing pale.
Why can't anyone save us?,
But is there rescuing us from us?

There's no prevention and no cure,
The kingdom of evil is for sure.
You cannot hide, oh you cannot run,
Here comes the army of the scums.

It'll not be such a pleasant sight,
The invasion of dark with all its might,
The worthless things are prays and guns,
Shh...here it comes-

You don't know it but it's quite a scenery,
Miserly men in their misery.
Where killing is elementary,
No justice, no jury in the 21st sanctuary.

Temporary Identity

When I'm not me,
When I'm somebody,
Wandering in the skies,
Nostalgically.

Clearing the heavens,
Selecting the stars,
For the sole reason of,
Absolute nullity.

Walking with some,
Talking with others,
With complete absence of,
Insignificant personality.

No hopes, no dreams,
As state of mind of,
No assiduity,
Speaking the words,
Mutely.

Disturbance is never a cause,
It is the consequence of the
cognitive process to barricade attention.
Speaking figuratively.

So how do you define the feel, when
Hundreds of leaves of the Maple trees
lined up in the fall, on the street.
The state of mind, unconsciously.

A great art makes you think,
Supposedly.
Trying to make your eyes blink,
Obnoxiously.

No reiterate, no repetition,
No retelling of once told old story,
After all, it's all chaos around,
Starting randomly, ending bizarrely.

And there it lies,
At the brink of pattern
which follows all through randomness.
Creating cosmos, creating certainty.

So this is the irony:
Incongruity between what might be
expected and what occurs actually.
Reshaping the past, ironically.

Making of reality unexpectedly,
but nothing is likely, satirically.
With no cherry on top,
brings you despair, happily.

The sudden realization, deplorably,
The instant loss of intellect, woefully.
The closure of eyes, epical regretfully,
When I'm me, not somebody.

Obscurities

Here I stand, staring blankly,
At your pleasant world,
At your delightful cities,
Of which I thank the gods grandly,
For creating a world,
Without Obscurities.

I don't see a diminishing light
waving towards me from horizon each day,
I don't hear any swash of tides
singing a melancholy to me and my dismay.

I don't see the love in the air
or the blooming of cherry blossoms in spring,
I could just hear a boisterous blare
when the angels from heavens sing.

I couldn't perceive the call of the wild
or a silent whisper in my ear;
Though I stand in a gloomy night,
Nothing grips me, let alone fear.

How can I embrace the light?
When darkness is my only past,
When I've been vague all my life,
How in this lucidity can I last?

Behind, creepy shadows lie,
In front, a world that has gone dim;
Below, a dying hollow earth,
Above, a sky that is gray and grim.

I'm not a riddle, not a conundrum,
Not full of sureties;
All I am is an insignificant, nameless
speck of my own obscurities.

Walking Away: Part I

Here I am, standing outside my home, inadvertently wondering on my recent thoughts.

Spaced out, as I stand looking up at the gloaming summer sun as if it is dolefully waving towards me. Then a sudden resonant din breaks my blurred look into a focused one and made me recollect myself as I distinguish breathing from sun's cold warmth.

My heart gets heavier as I recall my forgotten pending endeavors. Yes, forgotten.., even for a moment, for that tiny bit of time which causes an eternal pause. An unusual paradigm, as it may be, going unnoticed by humans from the beginning of time. I sometimes wonder what it'd be like to be forgotten, to have erased from memories. What it'd feel like to never have existed even though you did. Awful, I suppose.

Among worldly things and thoughts set aside, I am still standing at the very same spot, trying to crush and level the single pebble among widespread dirt with irrational intention to make it indifferent from the surroundings. But to my dismay, an unimportant, obscure piece of rock said it all in a flash. It was straight on, straight through my heart. Not many things I find poignant, nor did I before but surprisingly I am standing enraptured by that little pebble.

Deja vu, I believe this could be, but I stand reminiscing the past. A cloudy series of events revolving round my mind as I began to question my memory, my intellect. I started pondering, searching in the abyss of my mind for the reason "Why I'm standing here"? I'm a reasonably intelligent person but as for finding that answer...I could find none.

At times I find festivals oppressive. There is something grim in those twinkling lights, something gloomy behind those smiling faces and it feels like they are asking "Are you happy"?, "Do you fit somewhere"? "Do you belong"?

I remember, sitting under a tree on the grass-covered ground looking at calmly moving leaves repeatedly blocking the sunlight on my face. I don't know if it was a dream or reality, but I found it pleasing. And then it was happening, like I was falling asleep. I saw a dimly lit spot of light in front of my eyes and eventually it all cleared out. I am standing outside my home, the same recognizable houses all around me, the same gloaming summer sun leaning towards me and the unvaried pebble under my heel. I couldn't make out if that was a dream or this is. It was like I fell asleep into reality, how miserably disappointing that is.

Then, stirred by an unknown source and for an anonymous reason, my legs started moving but my mind remained astonished.

I am walking, at a swift-pace. Pride, in me, was obliterated by a little pebble. Hope, was extinguished by memories. Stability, was imbalanced by a dream and what is left of me...is myself. What a satirical dour sense of humor this was. Under the twilight, carrying a cruel irony,

I am walking...Walking away.