Dark Ugly Botches
I look out at the road from my balcony. It looks no different from yesterday. Traffic. Grey twilight stealing in. Swaying of coconut leaves - fringing the parapet walls - in rhythm to the gentle sea breeze. Commuters. Tomorrow will be another day just like today. Life seems to be a string of endless todays - each no different from another. I have even ceased to notice that I am dressed differently from yesterday. Yesterday I was dressed in a green kurta, today in pristine white shorts. What was I doing yesterday this time? What will I be doing tomorrow? Nothing seems to stand out. Colours, sounds, people, figures, trees, activities, light, stars seem to merge into one hazy blur. Have I lost the ability to see? Have I consciously cultivated the habit of hurrying, bare feet beating a regular path around the house, sneaker clad feet pattering in the badminton court missing shot after shot, fingers chugging away on the keyboard, fingers clutching my head in much the same way as my mind when it is grappling with a problem?
Yesterday, a friend made me think about things I haven't thought about in a long time - things which have been suppressed and shut away in one corner of my mind, maddeningly confusing. They simply refuse to disappear into the daily blur of life. They stand out and attack. Dark Ugly Botches on a placid Gray Wall. Like a tumour.
I felt spent after writing to him. I was unable to express myself. After all, how do you describe shapeless ugly glaring patches on the wall? As I peer at them, they seem fade away from the foreground. Yet when I turn my head away, they jump into the background and obstruct my view. Back and Forth. Is there a No Man's Land in between where I can shut away these things forever? Thoughts race faster and faster. I follow them. They stop running. I feel like a fool. Why did I follow them at all? Hark! they are racing again. I have been fooled yet again. Why oh why did I stop? Run. Stop. Feel Foolish. Run. Stop. Feel Foolish... What a vicious routine.
Last Monday, I met a man. I should remember to talk of him later. He stands out.
Yesterday, a friend made me think about things I haven't thought about in a long time - things which have been suppressed and shut away in one corner of my mind, maddeningly confusing. They simply refuse to disappear into the daily blur of life. They stand out and attack. Dark Ugly Botches on a placid Gray Wall. Like a tumour.
I felt spent after writing to him. I was unable to express myself. After all, how do you describe shapeless ugly glaring patches on the wall? As I peer at them, they seem fade away from the foreground. Yet when I turn my head away, they jump into the background and obstruct my view. Back and Forth. Is there a No Man's Land in between where I can shut away these things forever? Thoughts race faster and faster. I follow them. They stop running. I feel like a fool. Why did I follow them at all? Hark! they are racing again. I have been fooled yet again. Why oh why did I stop? Run. Stop. Feel Foolish. Run. Stop. Feel Foolish... What a vicious routine.
Last Monday, I met a man. I should remember to talk of him later. He stands out.
Meera @ 7:18 PM| permalink
2 Comments:
When are you writing a book?
Those beautiful dark Ugly botches.... Life is pale without them.
The racing thoughts that we follow reminds me of the risque lion-taunting-fox joke :D How foolish we know we might feel, we would continue to chase, won't we?
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