Fading murmurs from the hole

Location: Promised land

Time: 2.00 a.m

Its not that I am not used to be awake this late. I have done that a lot many times. But rarely does it happen when I feel so freaking numb. At this hour I have nothing beautiful and wonderful in life, to share with anyone. In fact, just a few moments ago I was thinking how it would feel to be in a hole. By hole, I mean to say the hole they keep talking about in the prison jails, and showing in the Hollywood movies. Do we ever try to actually feel such things as been holed up in just a small dark room with no light, no music, no books, no talks, no chit-chat, no noise and most of all no space to even maneuver your legs? And to keep you alive in the misery and suffer, on the platter there’s some filthy food and stinking water to drink. What would you do in such conditions? Would you be rendered capable to think?. If yes, what would you think?. Would you think about your past, cherish the wonderful moments you lived and bring a smile to your filthy face or would you think of the terrible sins you have done, the pain you have caused to the innocent sentiments, horrible things you have said in anger, people you have cheated, games you have played. Or would you just lie down cursing everything, every moment and every one in this world and venting out your anguish banging the walls with feet, trying to spread out a little. Or would you lie cursing, persuading and then begging fait or destiny or whatever sh*t to intervene for a little time, a little space. How would it be when your closed from the outside world and physically stretched to your limits? When you shriek out loud but theres no one to hear the cry. Left to listen only your own murmurs.

You don’t have to go to the hole to experience the numbness. A little of that you can feel lying on the bed, when there is so much noise in your head. The body keeps twisting and curling as if the mind has run freaking amok, incapacitated to give any single freaking instruction to control the senses. Whatever comforts be around it just won’t shut the system down and let you relax in peace. There’s craving for an external stimuli to make you f**king move to something somewhere, someplace. The muscles in the legs feel so unbearably uncomfortable, with the cramps that develop out of no where. Eyes keep burning for lack of sleep. The brain says-fcuk sleep, but something inside just wouldn’t relent to the command. An overarching urgency to quench your thirst, a desperation to fill the void with something. Something you seek from some place but down under inside, you know there is nothing to be found. There is no ultimate truth to be found. There is not hidden treasure of knowledge. You’ve spend your whole life seeking the knowledge of truth and all you could discover is death as the only certain reality. Before even you could find your so called fcuking purpose in life, you forsee the end of it, the clear futility of everything. The emptiness engulfs your mind. That’s what they meant, when they told, every action of yours is such a sheer waste of your precious little time, meaningless. The dawn of that factual reality is what would throw’s you rushing to the bottom less pit of numbness. Numb, you find you are so so so very betrayed and fooled in the world. And guess what, sadly you are going to serve this irrational, stupid, crude world and play the game all along.

With this harsh cruel realization you just stand up rush out early in the morning, trying to run from yourself. Alone you take a walk in the boulevard, lined with maple trees and the yellow leaves spread ahead of you. The river smilingly rushes besides. The burning eyes soothed with the site of sparkling river. You hear crackling of dried leaves under your feet, as if the nature whispering to you-there’s much more to the web of life, the mystery you seek to solve is not life, but its something between you and me. The cool breeze cleanses every inch of choked lungs with life. Willowing winds come with a distant laughter echoing the voices which said, you wanted to plant your garden and decorate your soul. The wind combing your hairs with its softness, swirls around like your lover, caressing your back, kissing on your neck and whispers with its warm breath, your quest is not for knowledge but for beauty, my beauty!. With your hands dug in your pocket, you walk along with her- Smile and then you both roar with silly laughter. Just like the first time you looked into her glittering deep eyes and smiled for unknown reason. All along your craved to absorb all its beauty finally you loose yourself in it. That’s when the shrieking cry submits to the mighty silence. You find solace in your dark hole and force a whistle to a song.