Musings #1: This world exhausts me

In my moments of solitude I do not think of myself. I think of others and their stories. It might be someone I had an eye contact with in the metro, someone I chatted with on a local train, an acquaintance,  a batch-mate. I wonder who or what keeps them awake at night. I know these people only as human beings. I do not know if their heart or brain functions the way mine does. But I have this absurd habit of reasoning out their acts, thinking about their lives, their loneliness and the baggage of pain that they carry within themselves. And I hope with all my heart that their share of hurt, pain and misery doesn't change them into someone they are not. I hope that they land up in some place that gives them all the little joys and happiness that they couldn't find in themselves and people around them. All of us are blindly seeking something without knowing the consequences thereof. All it takes is a split second for our lives to change, for dreams to transform into nightmares and I hope they have the strength to live with their choices.
This world exhausts me. When I think of life and the complexity of the stardusts in this Universe, I want to run to a place that protects my heart. A place that I can call my home.

(c) Ayushee Ghoshal

Staring today, I will be sharing my thoughts on this blog regularly. If you like my work, you can subscribe to my posts via E-mail. Do drop in your reviews, feedback and suggestions. :)

"On a gloomy note" :Christmas Blues

I walk once more on those streets, except those streets have now turned into forbidden lanes.  I drift like a cloud on those forbidden lanes as a chill December wind scatters the evening mist. The air around me is saturated with memories, helplessness and sorrow. The hush of the evening thickens, the world around me is moving. Bells jingle somewhere, a choir performs the last song of the evening in the old grey church. Its almost Christmas. What am I doing on these streets, all alone? Am I not supposed to join my family for a Christmas dinner? Wait! What family? What dinner?
Then I ask myself. Am I not supposed to be setting up the stockings? Should I not be at home, decorating my Christmas tree? Perhaps not. Because if it were so, I would not drift alone on these streets. I would not tuck my hands in my leather jacket, a brandy bottle carefully in my upper pocket and make puffs of carbon dioxide. 

Another Christmas wish wasted. Another evening passed by. I still have not set up my Christmas tree. Perhaps, for the first time in twelve years, I am on the busy streets of the city, looking around, trying to locate that one face in amongst millions of unknown faces. I cannot find her. I cannot trace my way back to those December evenings when things were just alright. When we exhaled breaths of happiness, of joy, of dreams. Its unbelievable what time did to us. What we did to ourselves. Perhaps, it was always meant to be this way?
Was it? I'll never know. 

I walk down the streets which I had taken years ago, I can't find your trace. I am haunted by a deepening gloom. I am walking on a desolate street. It appears as though no one has walked on it for years. I turn around, people are running towards something. The noise resembles that of joyous shrieks and laughter. I don't belong to that crowd. My destination lies ahead. That house which is glowing with 'Darkness' on the Christmas Eve. I amble on. Lights dimly glow in the distance.

The candle flickers, melts, turns into brown snow.

A despondent sigh and tears in eyes so blue.
The road stares at me, its eyes jet black.
I stare back in horror, sniff on the
cuffs of my trench coat.
Every Christmas wish
wasted. Another
Year, without
You.