Date: 27.01.2007
Time: 9.50 p.m.
The darkness is so peaceful – so incredibly calming, serene, soothing. It placates the injured soul that is battered after weathering adversity and also, illness of the heart. Why do I like darkness? Is it because it shields me from my own inner demons? Is it because it is the very antithesis of "brightness", and bright and cheerful people with whom I do not belong? Perhaps it is because the absence of light also signifies the absence of everything that hurts me – it is not illuminated, receding in the shadow, imperceptible in the hazy hues of black.
The dark symbolizes peace; at least, it does for me. Why, you ask? Well, it is because I can sort out the various fragments of consciousness, the figments, the ideas and the reality while huddled up in one corner of my dark room. There is nothing to illuminate the drops that descend the smooth contours of my face, none of my anguished expression escapes my being, not a single grimace or a contortion of my features traverses from my mind to another's as an image carried by light. I am free to be who I am without any restrictions of propriety, decorum or social norms. But why 'under cover of darkness'? A bit of an explanation is required to convey the answer.
There are two kinds of people – one kind prefers being around other people while crying while the other weeps alone. I belong to the latter kind and detest being lachrymose in public. I am quite averse to the idea of being an object of sympathy, pity and/or ridicule and derision. When I cry, I like to have no mind but my own witness the act. What better place for such a person than the dark?
Darkness is not entirely a dreary picture painted in black. Its interpretation is left to personal choice. Light is contaminated – it is afflicted with impurities. There can never be 'pure light'. Darkness, however, is pure. It is black, and only black. Without the emptiness, the nothing-ness and the complete absence of any impurities (as in case of light) it would not be darkness. Why then, is darkness always associated with the negative aspects of the soul? Yes, many crimes may be committed in darkness, but the same number of crimes takes place in light as well. People are equally blind in both instances. Besides, there has been many a good deed performed anonymously under cover of darkness. How one interprets it is, therefore, a personal (a very personal) choice.
In darkness, I find a soothing liniment that heals my tattered soul. I have the freedom to display a part of myself that is not a part of my public face. I can be vulnerable without anxiety. I can be distressed without having to keep in mind, the shackles that 'civilized' society imposes on people to keep them from expressing their emotions. This freedom, the freedom very dear to an otherwise suppressed and limit-bound soul, goes a long way in healing some of the wounds that it accumulates during the time spent living life on society's terms. I can think what I truly think without worrying about my face betraying my feelings. Does that make me a coward? I think not; I am not exactly hiding. I am only seeking solace. It is but temporary.
As I sit here in this stance, contemplating my next course of action in the best interests of people I care about and myself, I find that much of the raging storm inside has abated. I am calmer now; cooler and more level-headed, I am qualified to make 'sensible' decisions without being drawn away by the alluring calls of anger, disappointment, hurt and despair – passions that are deadly when one is tempted by them into falling in their fatal grasp. My thinking is clearer and I no longer feel like ripping the flesh out of my body. I no longer feel the urge to bleed my troubles away. I realize that the time has not yet arrived and any attempt made before that time will be futile. I am in moderate control of my self and senses, which is a far cry from the overwhelming tide of emotions that had surged through my being moments earlier.
A short while of introspection, a short while of utter honesty, and my mind is refreshed. The eyes remain swollen, the nose with a crimson tinge, but everything else is almost normal. My thoughts recollected, I am prepared to embark on another journey in my quest for contentment. Darkness has allowed me that. Why then should I dislike the dark?
Time: 9.50 p.m.
The darkness is so peaceful – so incredibly calming, serene, soothing. It placates the injured soul that is battered after weathering adversity and also, illness of the heart. Why do I like darkness? Is it because it shields me from my own inner demons? Is it because it is the very antithesis of "brightness", and bright and cheerful people with whom I do not belong? Perhaps it is because the absence of light also signifies the absence of everything that hurts me – it is not illuminated, receding in the shadow, imperceptible in the hazy hues of black.
The dark symbolizes peace; at least, it does for me. Why, you ask? Well, it is because I can sort out the various fragments of consciousness, the figments, the ideas and the reality while huddled up in one corner of my dark room. There is nothing to illuminate the drops that descend the smooth contours of my face, none of my anguished expression escapes my being, not a single grimace or a contortion of my features traverses from my mind to another's as an image carried by light. I am free to be who I am without any restrictions of propriety, decorum or social norms. But why 'under cover of darkness'? A bit of an explanation is required to convey the answer.
There are two kinds of people – one kind prefers being around other people while crying while the other weeps alone. I belong to the latter kind and detest being lachrymose in public. I am quite averse to the idea of being an object of sympathy, pity and/or ridicule and derision. When I cry, I like to have no mind but my own witness the act. What better place for such a person than the dark?
Darkness is not entirely a dreary picture painted in black. Its interpretation is left to personal choice. Light is contaminated – it is afflicted with impurities. There can never be 'pure light'. Darkness, however, is pure. It is black, and only black. Without the emptiness, the nothing-ness and the complete absence of any impurities (as in case of light) it would not be darkness. Why then, is darkness always associated with the negative aspects of the soul? Yes, many crimes may be committed in darkness, but the same number of crimes takes place in light as well. People are equally blind in both instances. Besides, there has been many a good deed performed anonymously under cover of darkness. How one interprets it is, therefore, a personal (a very personal) choice.
In darkness, I find a soothing liniment that heals my tattered soul. I have the freedom to display a part of myself that is not a part of my public face. I can be vulnerable without anxiety. I can be distressed without having to keep in mind, the shackles that 'civilized' society imposes on people to keep them from expressing their emotions. This freedom, the freedom very dear to an otherwise suppressed and limit-bound soul, goes a long way in healing some of the wounds that it accumulates during the time spent living life on society's terms. I can think what I truly think without worrying about my face betraying my feelings. Does that make me a coward? I think not; I am not exactly hiding. I am only seeking solace. It is but temporary.
As I sit here in this stance, contemplating my next course of action in the best interests of people I care about and myself, I find that much of the raging storm inside has abated. I am calmer now; cooler and more level-headed, I am qualified to make 'sensible' decisions without being drawn away by the alluring calls of anger, disappointment, hurt and despair – passions that are deadly when one is tempted by them into falling in their fatal grasp. My thinking is clearer and I no longer feel like ripping the flesh out of my body. I no longer feel the urge to bleed my troubles away. I realize that the time has not yet arrived and any attempt made before that time will be futile. I am in moderate control of my self and senses, which is a far cry from the overwhelming tide of emotions that had surged through my being moments earlier.
A short while of introspection, a short while of utter honesty, and my mind is refreshed. The eyes remain swollen, the nose with a crimson tinge, but everything else is almost normal. My thoughts recollected, I am prepared to embark on another journey in my quest for contentment. Darkness has allowed me that. Why then should I dislike the dark?
3 comments:
Hii..
Pure class!! Even I cry when Im alone...
H'm. And so we all disembark upon the end of a large, dark channel.
I am rather attached to Darkness. For the cover it gives me when I can find no peace. For the troubles that vanish when I stroll along the peaceful void. For the anchor this nothingness gives me when I need it most.
It is a friend. A much worthy and much praised friend.
I talk to it, imagining so many different people talking to me. And then, a small tear drop forms. Not sadness. Not self-pity. Definitely not regret.
Anger.
Anger is such an intimate emotion. Unlike love or fear, there is no mystery to it. Nothing is held back. On the surface its intent is as clear as the star that rises above the planetary ecliptic. That singularly determined sphere of energy will ascend to dominate the sky and all who challenge it will yield or burn. Once the chain-reaction is begun, there is no stopping until the fuel for the fire is consumed. Anger is like this. It is raw, uncomplicated. There is no lie to anger. It is pure.
And yet, what will this pure form of energy do when there is nothing to focus it on? Does it rage out and harm everyone, especially with the frail and rather scarred body of its Creator?
No. It cools itself with the patent salinity of tears.
And what business does a tear drop, as you have so clearly spoken, have in broad daylight? Will it form a rainbow?
I'd say no. That tear helps you reminisce, and tells you not to yield and makes you write such a beautiful piece as this.
I just don't know what to say.
(Except that tiny voice which shouts inside me saying, "Clone!")
^That was a pathetic joke, I know. Especially in this serious moment. I must stop doing this. I must stop doing this...^
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