I Wish I Had Done Something

 I Wish I Had Done Something

I’m caught in a web that entangles itself around me tighter than ever if I try to get away from it. I often feel this is a punishment meted out to me for a sin committed while I was asleep.

 

I can’t recall having committed any sins in my wakeful hours, so, it must have been committed while I was sleeping.

 

I badly wish I were pardoned for whatever I did, but I often feel I’m now past that stage where sins can be forgiven.

 

Right now, I’m certainly not sleeping, and the web gets thicker and thicker as I try to get away from it reminding me of the gravity of my sin.

 

The spider that spun this web has moved on to other corners to spin more webs; I’ve been caught in this clamouring mesh for a long time.

 

It seems to be an eternity when I was free to move around.

 

I can’t recall the time I walked without anything to bother me.

 

I wish I could go back to the time when I was free to dance to the sound of her footsteps.

 

I shouldn’t have gone to sleep. This is the mistake I made.

 

It was while I was asleep that she moved on to greener pastures.

 

She was the reason behind every puff of air I pulled in. I wonder why I let her go in the first place.

 

But then, I virtually pushed her out of my domain because I thought she deserved someone better than me.

 

I wish I hadn’t done it, although I still feel she deserved to be with someone better than me.

 

I still feel she wouldn’t have found all the happiness she deserved had she been in my company.

 

I always wanted her to get all the happiness she deserved, and even more than that.

 

I wish I knew the exact quantum of happiness she deserved; I wouldn’t have been able to give it to her all the same.

 

I always wanted her to be the happiest person on earth. Somehow, I know this wouldn’t have been possible had she been with me.

 

On second thoughts,  I shouldn’t have let an inferiority complex cow me down.

 

Moreover, I should have shown her all the love I have in my heart for her.

 

It might not have been enough to deter me from pushing her off the ship we were on, but I would have had the satisfaction that at least she knows exactly what I feel for her.

 

It would have been a consolation for me that I did do something to stop her.

 

The truth is that I didn’t merely pushed her overboard. I helped her jump off the ship we were on.

 

I half wish I wouldn’t have done this.

 

She might have drowned herself in the turbulent ocean the world is. She might have been devoured by a whale or a fish bigger than a whale.

 

I now wonder if I did the right thing.

 

I did wait till she was safely aboard another ship, till I became oblivious to her. I made sure the ship was a strong and sturdy one.

 

I made sure the ship sailed smoothy before I sailed ahead myself. The ship I’m on leads to a port different from the one the ship she is on is headed for.

 

I hope there is  a lot more fun and frolic on that port than there is on the port I shall find myself on.

 

I want her to be happier than I can ever be. If there were a yardstick to measure happiness with, I wish all its units were to be exhausted in counting the quantum of happiness in her share.

 

If happiness were to be quantified with stars, I’m prepared to wait till I count the last star with my pointing-finger, and still not get tired of counting stars.

 

I shall never be completely happy and content with what I did. I know that I pushed her off, there shall always be a sense of guilt, but at least I shall have the satisfaction that she is happy.

 

 She has served the purpose of a mirage in a desert. She has been moving away from me with every step I took towards her, and this has been what has been pushing me to move on in this desert my life has been.

 

I can now understand how a nomad fatigued with thirst feels while crossing a dry and raid desert: a mirage is there before him, it is very attractive, but he can’t touch it.

 

In an attempt to get to it, the nomad moves towards his destination with more zeal and vigour than ever. The only condition is that his destination and the mirage should be in the same direction.

 

She is an oasis of hope for me. This is where I shall find satisfaction and happiness packed in huge containers used to transport goods aboard ships.

 

Somehow, I know the mirage I have been running after is a mirage of the oasis of hope she is. It keeps moving away from me; it always will.

 

This is how I shall keep moving on in life, and this is how most of us maintain a steady momentum in our lives.

 

Everyone of us has a typical oases of hope that pulls us towards itself, and we move on towards it.

 

The oasis assumes different shapes and forms for all of us, but it does manifest itself in one form or the other for all of us.

 

The nomad is sure to find some amount of relief when he knows he is on the track that leads to a destination. Somewhere in a remote corner of my heart, I  feel  confident she loves me as much as I love her.

 

There are times when I’m sure she loves me. She has been searching for my abode while going around like a nomad.

 

I hope she finds herself on the track leading to my abode soon.

 

 

 

 

 

An Endless Road Before Me

 

An Endless Road Before Me
I find myself looking into infinity as I stand before a long and endless stretch of road. The interminable nature of the track before me fails to deter me. It is a very long and weary road before me, I know, but I move on.

 

The way the path before me looks at me sends shivers down my spine; I wonder if it feels the same way when I look at it. A typical novelty associated with it pulls me to it, but there is also a fear of the unknown that pulls me back. A part of me wants to go back to my comfort-zone:  I don’t want to tread on an unknown path.

 

The truth of the matter is that I don’t have an option but to move on. I have to walk on and I have to keep walking on it for a long time. My pedestrian adventures are going to exhaust me, I know, but I don’t have an option.

 

The road before me is littered with countless thorns and rocks, it is going to be quite difficult for me to move on, but I don’t have a choice. I often wonder in what form the choice would have manifested itself in had there ever been a choice.

 

Life rarely gives any options. I am being pushed by an unknown force. Second thoughts convince me I’m better off when  I don’t have any options.

 

All of a sudden, I become conscious of a thousand odours in the air around me. Some are sweet and pleasant, while many of them are not pleasing to my olfactory senses.

 

Each odour connects to a trillion hopes, joys, wishes and thoughts that had once been through me. They conjured many dreams I saw with my eyes open, and many more I saw with my eyes closed.

 

I don’t dream the same dreams now, many of them became irrelevant like the toys I used to play with. I do have  a lot of aspirations still throbbing wildly within me today.

 

They make the odours appear quite lucrative. The track before me sends quite a few symbols and signs too: at least a few of my dreams might come true if I walk on the track before me.

 

A third thought forces me to make  an about-turn for none  of these thoughts, memories,  or even joys are relevant today. They have outlived their utility. Had they become alive and vibrant  while I was moving towards the road, I would have jumped with joy.

 

I’ve learnt an important lesson: life always gives all those joys we wish for, but the gifts usually arrive when they have outlived their utility. They are quite like the toys I used to play with in my childhood.  I wonder what became of them.

 

I should have preserved them for Zeenat, but I don’t think I would like to repeat everything that happened in my childhood; every drop of joy brought with itself an ocean of misery. Her life will be different from mine.

 

I often wish I could be a child once again, I wish I could go back to the time when these toys were significant, when they gave wee bits of happiness that remained relevant for at least a short while.

 

I wish I could share the feeling Zeenat is going to have when she holds a toy in her hands for the first time. I wish I could relive that short while of happiness and satisfaction.

 

The short time lasted more than the eternity I am out to discover on the road before me today.

 

There was so much novelty to be discovered at that time, there was so much time to make all discoveries. I wonder where all the time went, and how did the novelty of life fade off.

 

Only small bytes of joy were sufficient to propel satisfaction within me at that time.

 

The endless road before me defines another byte of short-lived happiness for me. It is, but it is a broader stretch of road before me today.

 

It is quite different from the constricted and narrow road before me when I was a child, but it too ends in happiness and satisfaction that lasts only a short while, I know.

 

I move on all the same. I have a long way to go before I can touch the evanescent drops of joy supposed to be at the other end.

 

Walking over this track is going to be a lot more comfortable, at least I hope so.

 

Moreover, the drops of joy I am heading for may as well turn out to be bigger than I thought them to be. Happiness  just might be king-sized, bigger than anything I have ever known, it might even be eternal.

 

Nothing is eternal, I remind myself, but the quest of eternal joy is, after all, what brought me to the road I find myself before today.

 

All of us strive for eternal joy and happiness, but no one ever finds it. Everyone has to be content with whatever bits and bytes of it we come across. I shall also have to be a part of this crowd.

 

I often wonder if these small bits and pieces of happiness and joy we discover in our lives is what we should strive for instead of aiming at an entire ton of joy.

 

Our struggles in life would be reduced to a bare minimum in this case. All of us are actually going to be happier, more content and satisfied this way.

 

The problem is we are never content with whatever amount of happiness we have. If someone were to get as much happiness as in a bottomless basket, he or she would still want more of it.

 

If happiness were to be equated with wealth, it isn’t surprising that even the richest man in the world wants more money every single day  he lives.

 

No amount satiates anyone. This is why the road before me appears to  be endless.