A deluge of unabashed thoughts threw my hair into a frenzy. I scanned the vastness of what lay before me, birds chirping in the distance, on the bonsai-ish tree, like neatly printed polka dots on the foundation of high-rising buildings and innumerable windows. These windows enclosed innumerable lives, trying to survive the charmless journey of life, and whatever mundane challenges it presents to them in its course.
To my right, a giant blazing ball of loud, imposing glow set, giving the sky an unimaginable hue of ombre, with a hint of saffron and sweet red garnish. It looked surreal. It appeared as though, for a brief period, the ticking clock, the unashamed time, they may stop, to me find a sense of contentment in this serene view. For that brief moment, I had hoped, the world should fail to remember my disappointments, and let me start afresh
On the rooftop of a building such as this one, I smelt a strong whiff of engaging melancholy. These heights remind me of my obscurity and yet again my recurrent motivation to thrive, and possibly, achieve. I am puzzled whether everyone asks themselves the same question I ask myself each day.
Why live? Why exist when the world yanks you down with every effort of yours to break free?
I leaned away from the edge of the terrace and the strong wind tried pushing me back on, as if resisting my actions thereon. It was bizarre that even with the gale in the background, it felt quiet, and the serenity trickled down my heart, almost as if I could hear my own thoughts.
“Nobody would ever come here. You can take as much time as you want before…”
Before what? Before I let go of all the tyranny, all of myself? Before I let go of everything this existence had to offer me, and plunge into the realm of the unknown? Before I loosen up my freckled body and let the massive ground swallow me with unflinching force?
I was unsure about it, but still placed my hands on the edge of the terrace, and placed myself there, like a porcelain saint. The thing about jeopardizing your life this way is that when you believe you are acceptable at nothing, when you feel like life failed you in manners you cannot envision, and you sit near the very edge of being and passing, you can find an uncomfortable solace in the fact that nobody in the world can expend their life but me. This moment feels euphoric in a haunting manner. This way, I won my own little battle.
My life, it starts to unfold before me. I recall all the happy faces in my life, the ones who were genuinely glad to have me. My parents, those beauties who never failed me, ever. My father, who’d protect me when my mother got cross. My mother, who’d cry vehemently whenever I gave a singing performance in the school. I saw the perfectly carved face of my brother, the one who’d sense my distress no matter how hard I tried to hide it. I remembered my best friend, with whom I’d sit in one corner of the school and talk about how I’d probably marry my new found crush one day. The people who made my life liveable. Nonetheless, I failed them, just like I failed myself
Another blow of air tossed my hair, tangling them like never before, but I’d rather not unravel them, so that when someone sees the knot in my hair after I leave, and I am unable to explain my plight, they shall tell my story.
As the spree of loveable flashbacks came to an end, I picture myself dead. I picture myself lying motionless on the concrete floor. My skin as if soaking the nectar, breathing the pool of red liquid, only without any apparent life in it. I pictured people surrounding me, looking at my forlorn state and a woman in the background screaming at the hapless creature she saw. I heard the loud thud the impact might cause, and thought about its distant reach. And amidst the chaos of my death, I imagined a sorrowful violin playing somewhere, lamenting the loss of my life, dejected over my crippled body, dropping a tear or two for my departed existence. A chill ran down my spine, trembling my body and mind numbingly.
Is that the manner in which my life fades away? Is that how it’s supposed to be when all my ambitions come to an end? Is this how my family loses a member? I shut my eyes close in efforts to free myself from my mind and I see the glistering face of my mother. In the darkness I see her, I look behind my shoulder and the weight of the hopes is crushing, but I must endure, for I have to live for people close to me. I’d prefer the pain of a battle than the empty comfort that will follow if I don’t try. I’d prefer to live, for one more day, and yearn for once more triumph.
The wind blew again, flinging my hair frantically in every direction. But this time, it seemed to solve the difficult knots.