Through the Highs and Lows of an emotionally driven mind

blank_pageSep 20, 1929.

It is a special day for me. I have a feeling this might well be my most significant day. Today is the day when I am going to prove to the world that I would stand by what my I believe in, come what may! I would rebel the world for my love. And today I would prove it.

It’s a hot day. Its brown everywhere! The wind kicks up the dust and sand and carries it wherever it goes. The leaves in the trees are filled with sand. Even my eyes are filled with the sand. The scene is tense, I am sure I am not imagining it to be so.

I can see him even with the dust, the sand and everything in between. There, about a hundred meters before me, sizing me up. I can see his hands, as tense as mine. His face, as passive and stony as I always imagined him to be. I can see the reflection of myself approaching him in his big dark sunglasses.

My heart must be beating at the speed of knots. There is a bead of sweat, threatening to reveal my nervousness. And yet I see myself as a figure of steely determination. Each step I take towards him, my heart pounds louder, and the world seems hotter. Every second seems like they would take forever.

Finally I am face to face with him. Now I am going to say the words that were going to change my life forever.
“Inquilab zindabad!!!!”

I saw his stick rise above his head and felt it fall on my forehead. For a second everything felt hazy. Then, a wave of pain took control of my body. I felt the blood trickle down the side of my cheek. My knees gave way and I fell on red sand. I thought I would blank out.

I saw him, looking down on me, wearing a wry smile on his face. I saw myself bleeding. I felt proud. There was peace. Peace so pure, and divine. Adrenaline took over. I slowly pushed myself back to my feet. I smiled back at him. That must have hurt his ego. This time I raised my hand. With every muscle of mine working in harmony, I could feel my own voice resonate all around my body and beyond.

“Inquilabbbbbb zindabaddddhhhh!!!!”
I remember only a few happenings after I said those magical words. I remember myself being beaten on my crotch and on the center of my head, and on one of my legs, I don’t remember which one. I remember the pain. I remember the musical flow of blood within and outside my body. I remember myself getting up again and shouting the words –
“Inquilab zindabad!!!!”
The words that gave me power, the words that gave me purpose, the words that gave me pride, and a sense of belonging. I remember those words being the last that I ever spoke before the stick broke my jaw.

I remember myself being carried somewhere. I see my people around me. I see the look on their faces. I will not ever forget the mix of admiration and concern on their faces. These were my people. There names, I did not know, yet these are my brothers and sisters. These are the great men and women for whom I am prepared to give my life for.

These are my people. These are my blood. These are my brothers and sisters. These are my INDIANS. This is my INDIA – the love of my life……This is my IN…………………………….!!

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So, when and where did love begin?

Long long ago …. I mean, really really long long ago, before mankind became the predominant form of two-legged existence, before the concept of using a calendar to calculate time was yet to be conceived, there was a quiet little town called Hobbitsville somewhere in the middle of what is now Scotland which  was inhabited by the quiet and rather selfish hobbits that made a living through trades that revolved around corn. Some were farmers, some were mill constructors, some were mill workers, some were exporters and some were corn stealers!Life at Hobbitsville was quite smooth and contented for the passive onlooker. But that was until Gandalf arrived.

At a rather youthful stage when he was just about able to grow a beard, Gandalf was no where near his famous Grey self. In fact he was young and supple and moved so fast that the hobbits nicknamed him QuickSilver!

Gandalf’s ,favorite house was the one where the family of the Pans lived… Their eldest member, Peter-pan was a legend in his own right and it was Gandalf who brought him to get in touch with the fairies… Ever since Peter and Gandalf got together, the coming of the wizard always made the hobbits a touch nervous.

The custom of the Hobbit families was to attach the family name after the member’s name if he was male and before the member’s name if it were a she. Hence oldest member ,Peter was called Peter- pan and the youngest member, Dora was called… Pan-dora!!

This time around, Gandalf brought with him a huge trunk. He met his old buddy Peter and told him to keep the trunk in his house for a while till he returns to take it to the Gods of the worlds above.

“Keep it secret, Keep it safe.” Gandalf said. At no cost should the box be opened. He left Hobbitsville and the rest of the world to its doom and carried on his quick feet on yet another of his unknown and unfailingly mysterious journeys.

But the young girl Pan-dora was no Frodo Baggins! She was so enchanted by the box that she often came close to it and observed the carvings on the box.  She often thought she heard voices inside the box. But Peter had strictly said that none must open the box and Pan-dora would not dare to disobey the head of the family.

One cannot change what has already been written…..Pan-dora fell prey to her curiosity and opened the box.

Out flew the magic of love….and along with it the beautiful feeling of belonging, of caring, sharing, kindness, openness and a lot more of emotions that filled up Pan-dora’s heart with the light of joy, so bright that she felt it would make her heart explode and fill the whole of hobbitsville with the wonderful spirit of love .

The box made yet another noise, and Pan-dora hesitated less than a second to reopen it again.Oh, the greedy nature of the little young girl!

Out flew the emotions of deceit, hate, heart breaks, lies, ego, misunderstanding, misrepresentation and infidelity. It filled Pan-dora’s room with gloom and darkness which made the little girl to cry.

Everywhere Love went, Hate followed … But love was kind and hence returned to heal the hearts of all those who were affected and hurt…..thus starting the Yin and the Yang of the cycle of falling in love and failing in love and falling in love again!

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blank_pageWe closed the door for love,but with it was closed the underlying friendship…
Love gave up,but the friendship lingered.
It lingered and it grew…It grew in the form of longing… It longed for what was lost…

But what was lost..was lost forever… and no matter how much the heart yearns, the wound would not heal..

The mind gives reasons….to it, senses are nonsense!
“Things have gone beyond repair…things had turned ugly…separation is the best for us both…you just dont match..if the other does not care, then why do you bother?”

But the heart does not listen to reasons…it only senses what has gone!
“But I still care… I am still unhappy… and so is the other heart… I can hear it beat in pain!! … It needs me… My friend needs me…”

Stitch me up…..coz it aint tears that come out of my eyes..
Stitch me up…..coz it is my heart that bleeds…

Stitch me up…..coz the hole is black…
Stitch me up….lest i fall into it forever!!

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