Under the Broad Daylight

Days will ever seem so longer when your mind will remain in a world and your body will remain somewhere else. Most difficult are the times when you are relentlessly trying to traverse in two different time frames. Sometimes these journeys unknowingly becomes very cherishing, sometimes they are equally painful. When you try to question what kind of life you want to live, you will find all good fallacies. You will try to rationalize everything with logic and then will start the eternal fight which you were fighting from your birth.

When too much of elusiveness and unpredictability starts exciting you, sometimes you will start feeling that its clogging your throat and tearing you apart in pieces. Being a guy who is always marred in this dichotomy, it had never actually made me bothered. But in recent past, this is erring me to hell. Believe me, I am feeling like I am into a big dream. A dream of odd 70 or 80 years, which will break into smithereens all of a sudden. The unpredictability of the final destination is scaring the shit out of me.

Smells of rotten potatoes and medicines are growing stronger and I am feeling dizzier.

You know sometimes I feel like there is another self of mine in some different universe. He is the alien king of that alien kingdom where there are no other organisms. He smells with his heart and sees with his brain.

I need another shot and I have to wake up quite early. Loads of exercise to happen tomorrow.

You know I had always dreamt like you. In the most stupid way. Dreams of living in a world that is free in letting its child wander in the woods of aspiration, that is free in providing all the existential subsistence. But mine fades in the thin air even faster than that of yours.

For this small pouch I paid fucking 8k! Just a mere 2mg. They stronger my thoughts and weaker my actions. I am trying to be at truce with myself. But enough is enough. No more fight. Other dimensions are waiting for me to push and thrash me to that next level.

N.B.: Next day in a dingy street of old Delhi, after 1000 knocking on the door of the cold storage, police barged in breaking the central lock. A 16 years old kid was found dead on drug overdose. But that wasn’t the news. The news was “death of another unpublished DREAM”.