The wideness of sea is shuddering. It sedately kills you while in equanimity. But when turns apoplectic, it destroys furiously. It’ll give all the charm to fascinate your soul in leisure but in misery, it will suck every inch out of you leaving you as hollow and fragile as an empty vast.
The fancies of life are scary. Happiness is a way back to despair. When we are happy we know that it’ll link back to the state of unhappiness; then why to live in the hour, feel the hype, giggle and cheer. Why not to leave some legacy so the world can remember us later? It actually isn’t about the feel of serenity and tranquility every time. But it do refers to else things too, though the concealed one.
She was a belle known in the world. She never liked to expose her life publicly and gain sympathies but would just yell her heart out, in some lonesome hours, on some blank sheets. There comes a state when you get so hollow from inside just like a channel. The sting of some longing unfed hopes shatters from inside. At some junction, you get stuck in such a dilemma that even your senses turn numb. You can not feel, your own self, neither your body, nor your sensations, nothing at all. When a dream shatters, it doesn’t only ruptures the knitted world in your cerebral corners but it does shatter the delicate inside of you.
She was stuck in a state where she was almost hampered. Paralyzed. Emotionally, spiritually and by every other aspect. When the breeze in the morning whispers, it doesn’t only bring the melodic call of sunrise, the sweet chirping of birds and the sign of breathe but it also mutely whispers, you’re being ditched even harder. When she tried to hear to the symphonic calls of the murmuring winds, she was also made to listen the shrieking cries of her inside. The choice between two is always the hardest to go through. There comes a cross junction in the being when you’ve to locate a route. A strange choice. A gaze so vacuous accompany you. A slab of ice cuddles around you leaving you numb. There are some points when you get stuck, stuck in hour, in the moment, in some chronicles and their painful impressions upon you. They say, unfed hope is piercing but the throb of broken hopes and expectations is even intense. Life is never a flow of water which we will go smoothly, can adopt any shape, mould into any part. It is intricate. Perplexed. Upsetting. Uncertain. It knows glum more than glee.
There comes such a stage where you unknowingly stop moving on. The hour doesn’t stop, time keeps on running. The world keeps on rushing forward. The seconds keep on changing. But is only you, the inside of your soul who gets a cease. Just as the silence prevailed after a wild storm. There comes a stage when you want to make a choice to mould the upcoming second for yourself. Where you try to give up on something, though likable but which can bear good fruit for the nourishment of your future. The hardest thing is leaving. Parting is dying a little and living in that longing is to die and revive every second. The moment, when you want to sob. Shriek. Put the unknown burden out of your fragile soul. You want to stop the time so you may try to get the pieces of your jumbled up life in order, once again. When you try to stop losing with every sunset. When the soul feels to be broken under the burden of love for something and the other one leading to which can make you earn a livelihood. Two things if managed to be settled along will end up in a mess. A dark, hollow cave. A state when one will break you by pulling you towards itself and the other will just sting you with its farewell. Sometimes, you give a lot of time to the things you love that the rest necessary for your materialistic tomorrow are forsaken and it ends badly. A very drastic end, where you are left empty handed.
There is no as such term of tranquility. A state of fighting and giving up, simultaneously, is something that will make you die with every puff of air you take . You’ve to give up on something to achieve other which might end up changing you and your being, the inside of yourself and all. There is nothing as such HOPE but it is simply a way of ditching yourself for something you can never get. Give a word more hopeful than just hope. More brighter than just bright. No, nothing as such exists. Faith. Yes, it dwells but in hopeful hearts. In those who wish to move on. But when thy spirit, thy ownself, thy inside just cease to move, then nothing works. That twinge of a moment in despair, a lump in throat and the throb of your inside – misery.
The net of gloomy vibe… The despair.. The misery.. The bad lucks.. The blue moments.. The longings.. The chronicles to scare her and remind her of the mislaid relations and past.. The lost serenity.. She had nothing.. She was empty handed, bare footed, broken soul for she tried to do something she did but ended up with breaking her into chips.
O’ Life! thee too cruel,
Too unjust, too uncertain,
Thou made me lose myself
Thee your self, never could win me
For thou left me,
But, in a strange limbo…