The Journey To The Centre Of My Conscience

-
It's a cold foggy night. I am walking on the road. All I can see is fog. I don't know what's in front and what I've behind. Because when I started walking a while a go, I decided I will never look back. The road seems familiar to my feet which walk without hesitation. Right now it seems as if they've got a mind of their own. I know this road ends somewhere and I know something else begins. However, I don't know whether to reach the next level, I'll have to jump or crawl. 
I've made an image of what that side might be like, but that image is too good to be true. 
Come to think of it, I'll reach such points in this lifetime. It's my conscience that's walking on the road. 
My feet slow down and then come to a stop. This is it. This is the edge. 
I extend my toe to feel at whatever's there. But there isn't anything. My mind panics but my body is calm and my heart beat is normal. Suddenly, my eyes droop and i'm falling asleep. By some miracle, my eyes are closed but I can watch my self. I pace about the ground for a minute and then ready myself. I walk back towards the edge and without wasting a second, jump. 
The journey to the pit is soft and easy. My legs bring themselves close to my chest and my arms hold them tight. My body prepares itself for the fall and then.........

I hear a loud splash and then everything is silent again. The water around me is still. Everything is going well. My body brings itself afloat and then I'm awake. I open my eyes slowly. The sky above is empty. There is light but I don't see the sun. There is water all about me so I decide to swim. 

I know at some point I will get tired of this but right now in this plane that is what I have to do. I know that when I get tired the water will disappear and there'll be a different plane then and I'll know what to do.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

#ForTheSelfMade

-
People are born not made, but some are not as privileged as the rest or lack something the others may possess. It is when such people rise above the rest on their own that they are called self-made. Self made, meaning to make or perfect oneself according to one's own will. True? False. Being self made requires so much more. It requires the knowledge to know your own self, to jump into the deep oblivion of your heart and brain and solve the mysteries inside of you. To conquer oneself, before conquering the world. It is to be philanthropic without letting it seem so. To be kind to your juniors and all around you without letting it get to your head. It is to watch your whole world crumble down in front of your eyes, but without as much as making a sound, building it up again without losing hope. It is to trust oneself when all else doubt you. If you can make it to the top after meeting with disasters and still call the ride to be the part because of what it taught you.
Read more

The Post 370 Era.

-
The historic Constitutional Order that rendered Article 370 and 35A null and void was passed on 5th of August. For seven decades, this 'special status', formed the socio-political identity of the people of Kashmir. But it was never a 'special status', it was only a temporary act meant to lend time to Kashmiris and India to decide the fate of the region and all its people. In theory, removing these acts will allow complete integration of the territories of Jammu and Kashmir into the Indian Union, something which was long overdue. However, those out on the streets beating drums and firing crackers may be celebrating too soon because the real challenges begin now.  NOW, WHAT? When examined thoroughly in the present context, removing the law and creating two UT's from the region are only symbolic measures and do not assure any peace or development. Also, the people of Jammu and Kashmir who are at the center of this issue were blatantly ignored. The move needs to
Read more

Ozymandias- A King Full Of Regret

-
Image
Having read the above poem, I started imagining how Ozymandias would feel if he were to come to life to see the condition of his statue. I then got hold of some paper and penned this Shakespeare style sonnet. ."My name is Ozymandias , king of kings: Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair." Is what I had gotten inscribed on the marvelous statue That was meant to withstand time. All has perished and nothing survives. Not a soul to tell my tale. Just this colossal wreck, that greets Travelers from far off lands. Sunken are it's two legs and the face lies nearby. My hideous expression is what give me away And makes one wonder for what did I boast When all my witnesses exist no more. It is futile to ache for worldly pleasures and lifeless elements. Since it is as one might loose oneself in the lands of sand without having a haven to go to. 
Read more