It is like trying to come out of a drunken stupor. I am trying to clear my vision. All blurry shapes and colours. Even as I try to focus, I feel a silly urge to just fall back and drown in the depths of unending sleep. The intoxication has dried my throat and I want to drink and quench my thirst. But first, I must pull out my consciousness from this haze of memories. What was I drunk on? I am trying hard to remember. Maybe remembering that will make it easy to find a cure for this hangover. I was roaming in the brightly lit fields and strolling on, I got lost in the forest. It was there that I got drunk. What did I want to escape from or celebrate? Maybe I started drinking in celebration and then used it to escape too. But then now why do I want to come out of that daze?
Every step I take, I feel that I am losing my balance. Maybe I should drink a little more and go back to the land of the spirits. The dreamlike memories make me wonder if they were real or just dreams. That immense pleasure that I felt, straying away from reality. Was it real or imagined? Should I labor towards full consciousness and let the reality sting me again or should I get drunk more and lose myself permanently in the shadows of the simulated happiness?
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Strange thoughts flash across the realm of consciousness; it is like a brightly lit train, on a dark night. Where is the station? Will the train stop? What if it goes on and on forever?
I mean the thoughts. Will they stop their parade if I die? Or will the thoughts go on living with the life of their own? What if they manifest after I am dead? Will my soul or whatever is left, feel them?
As I get down on the station, I am searching for the exit. Maybe this is the wrong station.
What would have happened if I had alighted at the earlier one? Or if I had decided to get down on the next one? Where has the exit gone? Will there be another train soon? What is outside this station? So many thoughts. The psychedelic lights of the weighing machine has mesmerized me. It doesn’t give the right weight but the lights blink and beckon people to waste their one rupee coins. Why are there so many people here? Have they too chosen just blindly to get down on this station? But everyone seems to be moving somewhere with a purpose. I cannot remember buying a ticket for the train or boarding it? Yet I have this ticket, so maybe I was predestined to get down here. But why do I want to board another train? I have this ticket so I have to be on this station. Then why am I waiting for another train? Will I be allowed to board another train? Maybe I should have another ticket. But it is dark and the counters are closed. So I am stuck here.
I mean the thoughts. Will they stop their parade if I die? Or will the thoughts go on living with the life of their own? What if they manifest after I am dead? Will my soul or whatever is left, feel them?
As I get down on the station, I am searching for the exit. Maybe this is the wrong station.
What would have happened if I had alighted at the earlier one? Or if I had decided to get down on the next one? Where has the exit gone? Will there be another train soon? What is outside this station? So many thoughts. The psychedelic lights of the weighing machine has mesmerized me. It doesn’t give the right weight but the lights blink and beckon people to waste their one rupee coins. Why are there so many people here? Have they too chosen just blindly to get down on this station? But everyone seems to be moving somewhere with a purpose. I cannot remember buying a ticket for the train or boarding it? Yet I have this ticket, so maybe I was predestined to get down here. But why do I want to board another train? I have this ticket so I have to be on this station. Then why am I waiting for another train? Will I be allowed to board another train? Maybe I should have another ticket. But it is dark and the counters are closed. So I am stuck here.