A Ship In A Storm

 A Ship In A Storm

I had embarked on an uncharted voyage upon rough seas.  A storm was doing all it could to keep me on my toes round the clock.

 

I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t.  I couldn’t have closed my eyes for a single second considering the hail and rain created by the storm.

 

A dissonance found itself deep within me when I thought of the uncharted nature of the route before me.

 

No one had been on it ever before; but there was a thrill of being the first too; I was going to create history!!

 

It was like moving through a dark tunnel for the first time, without a light to guide me, and without even   without an end in sight.

 

What I could see around me was a storm that threatened to blow everything up. The storm ravaging around the ship I was on was of a typical sort I had never encountered before. 

 

A wind blew at a very high speed, it created abrasions on my face, but thankfully, it didn’t throw me aboard the ship.

 

I’ve been through many storms, but none has had the potential  to lift me off my feet.

 

The incumbent one was a bit stronger, but I remained on my feet throughout, but whenever the ship ran into a beach on an island, I got a jolt.

 

Every leg of my voyage introduced me to a new island I had never been on before.

 

All islands brought completely new challenges before me; I did devise some new and typical defences against each of these challenges, I learnt quite a bit.

 

These lessons of life were given only to me, so I did feel a bit special when life stepped before me specially to give me some tuitions. These were not given to anyone else but me.

 

I feel honoured when I think of this.

 

I was being rewarded for some of my good deeds. I wonder if these rewards shall continue to shower themselves once my good deeds are exhausted.

 

I don’t think so. I wish I had done some more good deeds.

 

I jumped into thin air when I thought that my good deeds shall be  a solution to the dryness in my life.

 

At the same time, I couldn’t be sure if the new experience was to be any better than the experiences I have already had.  

 

I might as well be headed for disaster.

 

A dense fog surrounded me; visibility was reduced to only a hundred metres.

 

I wondered if the impending disaster lay beyond the fog or if the dimmed visibility of the path before me was the actual disaster I was headed for.

 

The fog was quite intimidating.

 

A part of me wanted to go back to the safety of land I was on a while back.

 

I looked for the plank of wood that had brought me aboard, but it had been removed; second thoughts were going to result in a worse disaster than the one waiting for me.

 

All the same, I was headed for something new. The very thought of encountering a novelty pulled me back, but the very excitement of encountering a new experience prodded me to move on.

 

Anyway, there wasn’t any scope for second thoughts now. I was already halfway through the plank, parts of it I had trodden on were already being effaced.

 

There wasn’t anything to go back on. I only had to look ahead, there was only a destination to think of now.

 

My destination lies a long way ahead, I didn’t have an idea of what it was or what it looked like when I set out on this voyage.

 

I set out on this voyage because I didn’t have an option but to move on and I still don’t have an option but to keep moving on.  

 

I don’t even have an idea where this route that is to take me to.

 

I have a long way to go before I touch my destination, I know, I must tread on and on and on over land and over rough seas for a long time.

 

The voyage over the sea isn’t exactly exhausting, but the very lack of a defined destination makes it quite a weary one.

 

A view from the crow’s-nest isn’t very encouraging; there is only  a deep sea all around.

 

The sea had been churning up all sorts of potions even while I was aboard the ship. I can see only a  thick froth as a manifestation of the broth being prepared.

 

Perhaps my destination lies concealed beyond these frothy waves. I should move on.

 

The voyage has become quite tiring now. Moreover, the ship I am aboard has been moving quite slowly.

 

I often wish someone were to give it a hard push. even a vague idea of what I am headed for is certainly going to alleviate some of the stress.

 

On second thoughts, I don’t need a clear image of what I am headed for. What is important is that I must keep moving on.

 

For a while, I couldn’t help thinking of the face I saw behind the froth. It was the sweetest face I had ever seen.

 

It was like a lighthouse guiding ships over turbulent waters like what I was on. I began to wonder if she was the destination I was headed for.

 

She was smiling at me as if she knew she was responsible for all that I had been through. She seemed to enjoy the dilemma and disturbance I was going through at that moment.

 

The very next moment, her eyes softened a bit. They signified a humility that made me a lord of all I saw.

 

She made me feel more important than anyone else in this world. This typical attention had been what I had been yearning for all these years.

 

I feel confident of having got to my destination; I don’t want to move on now.

 

The ship must be anchored where it stands now.

 

 

The Prettiest Woman

 The Prettiest Woman
We were in the same room while back. She isn’t a part of the world before me now, but somehow, she makes her presence felt loud and clear in all forms before me every moment I live. She seems to be everywhere I look and everywhere I go. I convince myself she is merely a part of my imagination; it is only that I have been with her for a long time that I see her in all forms of life.

 

The only way out of this problem is that I should stop gloating over her thoughts, I should stop thinking of her. I wish I could control my thoughts in a better way than I do now. I have done all I possibly could to stop thinking of her, but she always assumes a typical shape before me with every determined effort I make to forget her.

 

Getting rid of her thoughts has become the aim of my life. I do everything possible to forget her, but she pops out of nothing every time I breathe in. She stays till I breathe out, and she refuses to budge from my presence even after that. She is like an immovable pillar that I can only look at. I love looking at her, but she vanishes into thin air if I prolong my stare. I can’t stare into thin air for a long time.

 

I sometimes throw myself in the company of children to escape her thoughts, but she manifests herself in the very child I love the most. I badly wish I could see through the delusion, but the child before me is not a delusion, it is certainly the sweetest child I have known. This way, I rediscover perfection every time I look at a child.

 

She had become the ideal and perfect woman I was looking for all these years, better than the child before me. She has bettered the best: I have often wondered if perfection can really be improved: my answer lies before me. Improving perfection means climbing higher than the zenith I have touched; I haven’t known a point higher than this zenith: I don’t know anyone better than her: my query has become an enigma.

 

I realise perfection can never ever be improved in any form, but it can always be replaced by another entity. The only solution to my enigma is to  look for another perfect and ideal entity. I can do my best to look for someone like her, but I don’t think I can ever find anyone who shall ring the same bells within me as she did. Yet,  I desperately look around me for a replacement.

 

On second thoughts, I didn’t want to look at other women. I have found her, the woman of my dreams. I never ever dreamt of women, so I’m not sure why she appears before me everyday as a solution to an enigma already solved. But then, she can be only a delusion. I know so  little women. I looked around her room, there were no pictures or portraits there, but the world outside the room was full of women and everyone is better than her.

 

All said and done, she was the one who was before me a while back, and she held the reins of the conversation that ensued; chance and circumstance play a great part in shaping our outlook to those we don’t know as compared with our innate tendency to accept people we know as they are. She was a stranger, but I had accepted her as an ideal at first sight. It was the first time I had known her, and yet she had assumed the form of an ideal and perfect woman who walked in my dreams.

 

I looked at her in such a way that she was to remain an ideal and perfect woman for me forever and a day. It seems to be a tough proposition. I never thought I would ever see all my ideals embodied in a person in my life. Like a miracle, she  ticks in a remote corner of my heart with every single breath I take in.

 

Her presence is so strong that she stands before me everyday  deliberating every move I make, and yet I know she cannot be here.  A loud whisper reminds me of her presence every morning, but a soft hoot dims her apparition at dusk . I often wonder if it is a spirit that is before me, but then, I remind myself spirits exist only in fiction. My anxiety knows no limits; I often feel I have been dreaming.

 

I badly want to open my eyes, but I don’t want this apparition to fade into oblivion, as it is  sure to do whenever I wake from my slumbers. If this is what is going to happen, I wouldn’t mind sleeping for the rest of my life. A life spent dreaming of her is sure to paste smiles on my face. I’m going to look like a fool smiling while sleeping, but at least I shall be happy, if only in my sleep.

 

It isn’t that I want to escape into a world of  dreams because I find the reality harsh. I do want to taste the realities of life as they are in their pristine form. The reality is not as bad as I thought it is, I know. There is a typical joy in savouring reality though it isn’t anything like living in dreams.

 

Reality tastes best only if I savour a potion of sweet dreams everyday. At the same time, I want to stop dreaming as soon as possible. I wish I could give myself  a big jolt, bigger than what one gets when struck by lightning.

 

This isn’t going to be possible while I’m in her room. I walked out of her house, it was getting dark, the town once again became vast and imminent, and she once again became the prettiest woman in it.