When you don't know whether to feel happy about a memory or sad, shed a tear. A tear can be both
Thursday 18 June 2015
Saturday 6 June 2015
A Train of Thought Lead Me Home.
I came back home today. The day has not been all that great.
But again, the days haven't been good for quite some time. Thoughts have been bothering me, one after another and it is for the first time in a very long time that something like this is happening. Immunity has its holes.
I participated in a quiz today and I performed miserably. I haven't won or even qualified in any quiz in the past year. But, as my friend had made me believe, it was the beginning of every quizzer in college. Today, was a whole new level of screwing up. One more added thought. All of these, they made me question where I was going and where I had been going in the past year. I just built confidence and enthusiasm to do things, did those things, achieved things that others didn't. But, today, I did not see the point. I've helped people before and their reactions to the help always used to bring a smile on my face. Today, even those made no sense. "Why did I help them?" Nothing seems to be making sense, anymore. Not having company is like a singularity pulling my mind towards disaster.
I was to go to dinner with my friends after the quiz. The quiz had done enough. I tried to pick myself up. Then, I saw a message that sent me back into turbulence. We cancelled plans to go for dinner but decided to meet, anyway. One my way to his house, it started to rain; rain like you wouldn't imagine. The raindrops were like the wind, everywhere. Clouds and rain were my panacea. They didn't work. They further worsened the darkness in the mind. I cancelled all the plans for the day and made a run for the station, unable to see anything through the rain. I ran like it didn't matter. I crossed the tracks like a parkour runner, with a train approaching me. It just didn't matter. I waited for another train, so that I could go back home for no reason. Just go home. I waited for the train, drenched. The shirt took a darker tone, the pant was pitch black, my hair was fuzzy and the spectacles were fogged. I didn't care. It didn't matter. It was raining, what would anyone expect? The train was filled with people I didn't know. Yet, they seemed like people I could find respite in. People going somewhere, for some purpose, however similar it was to mine. I just reached a stage where I wasn't willing to recognise my own purpose. I had given up on the thought of fighting something that was retarding me.
I got off the train and it was still raining like it were wind. I walked through the drenched crowd, eager to get a train home or wherever they were going. My thoughts weren't slowing down, weren't cooling down. They weren't burning either. They were on a constant simmer; chained to a frying pan, sizzling slowly. That's more painful that just turning into ash. I gave up my usual methods of respite. It was raining heavily. I was in the neighbourhood. I could've bought ice cream. I could've gone anywhere I wanted to. Instead, I gave up. I just sat down on a bench on the platform. Sat and did nothing. I didn't know what to do. I didn't feel like going home. I just wanted to sit down. The rain blocked out any other sound. The announcements were a distant echo. I just sat there and let the thoughts run for as long as they would. Soon enough, I realised what a bad idea that was. I tried to think of those days before the turn of the year, school, the first days of college. Every single good memory got washed away by a wave of memories that reminded me of where I had come to after all that. Questions popping up; unanswerable, unquestionable, unbeatable. Questions after a questions were eating up the insides. I let them, because I couldn't do anything else. I surrendered. I was about to raise the white flag when a man came and sat next to me. He must've been in his forties. His beard was white and his hair was white in certain parts. He was wearing khaki pants, black sports shoes and a checkered shirt and was carrying a lunch box. The pant reminded me of my school uniform. Strangely enough, it looked like one of my old uniform pants. Didn't matter. This man, for some reason, was like a candle to me. I decided to look up and see what was going on. It was just the usual train station. I felt like making conversation with him, but, I didn't. I didn't stop looking, though. As the thoughts continued to eat me up, a train stopped at the station. I saw some people get in and some get off. It reminded me of time. It reminded me of how times bring some people and take some people away. If we're lucky enough, we see the same person again or, they're gone forever. So are the times, if we're fortunate, we'll never see such a bad time again and that gave me some hope. I tried to fight back. it worked a tiny bit. I looked at the man and there was an ant crawling up his back. I brushed it off. He looked at me and I gestured as to what I had done. He smiled, I smiled. I don't know why. Still sitting there, I saw a police man walk by. I was staring at him and he was staring at me. I decided to smile. He smiled back, thinking I was laughing at the incessant rainfall. The man sitting next to me smiled, too. After a while, I finally asked the man where he was going, because, I didn't. He named a place that I knew was far away. Very far away. In that rain, even more further away. Yet, he was waiting for that opportunity go home, where he can finally rest. I laughed at the distance. He laughed at the distance. There was silence again. The man gave me something I couldn't really fathom, at that point. It stopped raining. I decided to go home, for some reason. Even though I felt like staying till the man caught his train which was more than delayed. Yet, I decided to go home. I came back and didn't feel all that good. Certain happenings further disturbed me. But, as I am writing this article, I am able to fathom everything that sitting on that bench showed me.
Everyone is always on a journey. Some know why and some don't. Some trains are just not ours, like some days. Some trains are entirely ours. The others depend on how packed they are. No matter what we do, at the end of the day, we want to take that train home. I did everything I did, however it is affecting me and however it has affected others, to take that train back home, a place which I can call mine, which I can design, which is where I find rest with myself and provide warmth and comfort to others. That is why I helped people. To show them the glimpse of home they were away from. By trying to put a smile on their face and by trying to make them feel the warmth and comfort of some place they could call home. While the present train isn't mine at all, I'll find my way home, somehow.
But again, the days haven't been good for quite some time. Thoughts have been bothering me, one after another and it is for the first time in a very long time that something like this is happening. Immunity has its holes.
I participated in a quiz today and I performed miserably. I haven't won or even qualified in any quiz in the past year. But, as my friend had made me believe, it was the beginning of every quizzer in college. Today, was a whole new level of screwing up. One more added thought. All of these, they made me question where I was going and where I had been going in the past year. I just built confidence and enthusiasm to do things, did those things, achieved things that others didn't. But, today, I did not see the point. I've helped people before and their reactions to the help always used to bring a smile on my face. Today, even those made no sense. "Why did I help them?" Nothing seems to be making sense, anymore. Not having company is like a singularity pulling my mind towards disaster.
I was to go to dinner with my friends after the quiz. The quiz had done enough. I tried to pick myself up. Then, I saw a message that sent me back into turbulence. We cancelled plans to go for dinner but decided to meet, anyway. One my way to his house, it started to rain; rain like you wouldn't imagine. The raindrops were like the wind, everywhere. Clouds and rain were my panacea. They didn't work. They further worsened the darkness in the mind. I cancelled all the plans for the day and made a run for the station, unable to see anything through the rain. I ran like it didn't matter. I crossed the tracks like a parkour runner, with a train approaching me. It just didn't matter. I waited for another train, so that I could go back home for no reason. Just go home. I waited for the train, drenched. The shirt took a darker tone, the pant was pitch black, my hair was fuzzy and the spectacles were fogged. I didn't care. It didn't matter. It was raining, what would anyone expect? The train was filled with people I didn't know. Yet, they seemed like people I could find respite in. People going somewhere, for some purpose, however similar it was to mine. I just reached a stage where I wasn't willing to recognise my own purpose. I had given up on the thought of fighting something that was retarding me.
I got off the train and it was still raining like it were wind. I walked through the drenched crowd, eager to get a train home or wherever they were going. My thoughts weren't slowing down, weren't cooling down. They weren't burning either. They were on a constant simmer; chained to a frying pan, sizzling slowly. That's more painful that just turning into ash. I gave up my usual methods of respite. It was raining heavily. I was in the neighbourhood. I could've bought ice cream. I could've gone anywhere I wanted to. Instead, I gave up. I just sat down on a bench on the platform. Sat and did nothing. I didn't know what to do. I didn't feel like going home. I just wanted to sit down. The rain blocked out any other sound. The announcements were a distant echo. I just sat there and let the thoughts run for as long as they would. Soon enough, I realised what a bad idea that was. I tried to think of those days before the turn of the year, school, the first days of college. Every single good memory got washed away by a wave of memories that reminded me of where I had come to after all that. Questions popping up; unanswerable, unquestionable, unbeatable. Questions after a questions were eating up the insides. I let them, because I couldn't do anything else. I surrendered. I was about to raise the white flag when a man came and sat next to me. He must've been in his forties. His beard was white and his hair was white in certain parts. He was wearing khaki pants, black sports shoes and a checkered shirt and was carrying a lunch box. The pant reminded me of my school uniform. Strangely enough, it looked like one of my old uniform pants. Didn't matter. This man, for some reason, was like a candle to me. I decided to look up and see what was going on. It was just the usual train station. I felt like making conversation with him, but, I didn't. I didn't stop looking, though. As the thoughts continued to eat me up, a train stopped at the station. I saw some people get in and some get off. It reminded me of time. It reminded me of how times bring some people and take some people away. If we're lucky enough, we see the same person again or, they're gone forever. So are the times, if we're fortunate, we'll never see such a bad time again and that gave me some hope. I tried to fight back. it worked a tiny bit. I looked at the man and there was an ant crawling up his back. I brushed it off. He looked at me and I gestured as to what I had done. He smiled, I smiled. I don't know why. Still sitting there, I saw a police man walk by. I was staring at him and he was staring at me. I decided to smile. He smiled back, thinking I was laughing at the incessant rainfall. The man sitting next to me smiled, too. After a while, I finally asked the man where he was going, because, I didn't. He named a place that I knew was far away. Very far away. In that rain, even more further away. Yet, he was waiting for that opportunity go home, where he can finally rest. I laughed at the distance. He laughed at the distance. There was silence again. The man gave me something I couldn't really fathom, at that point. It stopped raining. I decided to go home, for some reason. Even though I felt like staying till the man caught his train which was more than delayed. Yet, I decided to go home. I came back and didn't feel all that good. Certain happenings further disturbed me. But, as I am writing this article, I am able to fathom everything that sitting on that bench showed me.
Everyone is always on a journey. Some know why and some don't. Some trains are just not ours, like some days. Some trains are entirely ours. The others depend on how packed they are. No matter what we do, at the end of the day, we want to take that train home. I did everything I did, however it is affecting me and however it has affected others, to take that train back home, a place which I can call mine, which I can design, which is where I find rest with myself and provide warmth and comfort to others. That is why I helped people. To show them the glimpse of home they were away from. By trying to put a smile on their face and by trying to make them feel the warmth and comfort of some place they could call home. While the present train isn't mine at all, I'll find my way home, somehow.
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