Stupid Things in Night (Chapter – 3)

I listen to songs. Romantic, sad, songs which have heartbreak and unfaithful lover in themes. Nothing works, for I feel nothing after listening to them. They just do not seem to affect me at all. Hardly a surprise, given I have never dabbled in matters of love and heartbreaks. All I know about it, is from movies and music videos. My friends in school told me things. But those seem more like juvenile fantasies now.

Two more days. Still no reply. I have given up hopes of receiving a message from her. I do not blame her. There is much more important things in life than replying to one’s hi message on Internet. I hope it comes true for me also.

It is a moonless night. I think about love, its scarcity in life. Nothing comes up in mind. Why do I even think about this subject? I have no answer.

It might have to do with my loneliness. But what is loneliness in its truest sense? I have people to talk to. I talk to them. Is loneliness something people face in the night when they are left to themselves? If yes, then I have been having too much of it. It is, the silence of night is apt for a deep sleep. But for the sleepless folks, it is the music of worries, regrets and issues pervading them.

It is unknown to me if I talk sense. Or what I think is right by other people. It is an unusual thing for a silent person to want someone dear to talk about things.

It is night, and I wonder if I am too woke to make sense.

••

I do not remember any of my dreams. I also wonder if I have an inability to visualise a dream in the first place. I remember things which happened, sometimes people and places, memories but not dreams.

Are dreams infinite, in sense that they are beyond the limits of reality?

If yes, then I wonder if I can dream about someone to talk to and possibly heartbreaks too.

Sleep does not come. I want to have a dream, right now.

I am the popular lad. I am the obedient son. I excel in sports and studies. People love me. No one envies me. Girls are madly in love with me. Teachers view me as someone who would make them proud one day in future.

I do not fear anyone or anything. My pictures on Instagram and Facebook receive thousand of likes and shares. People praise me in comments. Whatever written in my captions and wall is regarded as absolute philosophy of the highest order.

I have a girlfriend. She loves me and I love her. I go on long drives with her. She tells me about her deepest desires and secrets she never revealed to anyone.

Success is the only thing which happens whenever I try a new thing. Be it music, musical instruments, writing or even filmmaking. I am brilliant at whatever I do and people and my parents love me for it.

I am a good person. I never did harm anyone. I donate blood and I am an organ donor. I do social work and I teach kids in my free time. Kids love me and they call me ‘Bade Bhaiya.’

I am on good terms with my friends, be old or new ones. Relatives are fond of me. They pray for my wellbeing.

Life is good. And I am the human equivalent of the philosopher’s stone. Everything I touch becomes good.

I have managed to make Earth a better place by bringing real peace. People treat each other with respect now. I have treated AIDS and Cancer and global warming and hate.

The weather is good now. Pollution is non-existent along with nuclear weapons. The world does not have any problem, for it is basically a big family now. Vasudheva Kutumbakam.

A dream like this, is far-fetched even for the most imaginative person. I seek sleep, a place away from this nonsense.

••••

Stupid Things in Night (Chapter – 2)

It has been two days.

Lata accepted my friend request, but there was no reply. I did not message her again. She posts a lot of pictures, so I like them. Staring blankly at her pictures provokes no response. I want her to talk to me.

Umesh came yesterday. He wanted to drink beer. He invited me, but I declined. Past knows I cannot hold liquor, even the littlest of it. Anyways, I wanted to stay sober in case Lata replied to my message.

Umesh must have drunk a lot. He was online till 2 AM.

Lata and I sat on one of the benches in Canteen. I said, “So what are you going to do after graduation?”

“I have not think about it.”

“What is there to think? You will either study or marry someone.”

“I can think about these things. They demand a lot. Or I can just stay at home, learn new things or travel.”

“What new things? And travel?”

“Maybe I will learn cooking or knitting. And I want to go to a lot of places.”

“I thought you learnt these household chores growing up.”

“I did not. I used to study then and the rest of the time was spent with friends.”

“What happened to your friends? I think I am your only friend these days.”

“I still keep in touch with my old friends. They are studying in different Colleges. And you are not the only friend I have. Maybe I am the only friend you have.”

“You are right.”

“So what happened with your friends?”

“Same thing. They are studying in different colleges. And I am not great at keeping in touch. You said something about traveling.”

“I will go to Kasauli. It is so beautiful there.”

“Ok…”

••

I remember the day I drank. It was the last day of school. My friends insisted and I declined. But they said about last day of our school and something about memories and friendship. I drank a little then.

It burned my tongue, throat and stomach. I was sick and threw a vomit.

I never drank after that fateful day. I never met my friends after that day either. Sure, I attended their marriages but I went there with no hopes of reunion. And it never happened.

I wonder if they even remember me now.

•••

I feel old.

The Night is so thick, I am sure my shouts will not be able to penetrate it.

I do not like this. I do not like myself.

I fed a street dog yesterday. He seemed happy. He is not present today. I have saved a roti for him.

I look at the walls. They do not have the answers to my queries.

I pickup the phone and type another message to Lata, asking her how she is. And now I wait for her reply.

••••

A Lone Feel

Loneliness can do so many things to a man.

I do not know them otherwise I’d write them down.

But I do know the feel when there was no one around.

No one to talk with or ask for help.

No one and nothing to feel this void with.

No one to share things with, like this new song I found today.

And today when I sought someone from crowd to call my name like it mattered to him or her.

Absolutely no one when there was so much of free time and the absurdity of its,

Vastness, kicked me to the solid ground.

And it was only when I hit the ground I came to know it was solid.

There have been times I wanted to ask for help.

But something stops ticking, stops my voice as I speak.

Keep your baggage to yourself and carry it.

Alone.

Everyone is. And they do not ask you for any help.

I’ve thought if I stop speaking,

Then, maybe only then,

I will learn how to go through life and things and not let any feel dwindle myself.

I pray and I hope for its meaning to add to life.