THE PILLS OF FREEDOM

I have been wondering about the life I am going through. Infact, I wonder a lot on it. Not that I don’t know about “doing more than dreaming” and all those “tips to being successful” that are commonly talked of, for people like me, but I seriously am unable to stop myself from wondering. It seems to me as if I was born to wonder. And wonder about nothing but myself and the things around me. The whole thing then upsets me. Sometimes on my own state and sometimes on the things around. Nothing is doing good, it seems, to anything, and that depresses me, to wonder again, that I am also the same. Doing nothing good.

They say each one of us carry a quality, a strength in themselves. I have started disbelieving this lately. Infact, I have been thinking that only a handful have something differently qualitative. Rest others, and that includes me too, have more things in common than different. Everyone is the same, influenced by the same environment over the years, speaking the same language, laughing on the same things, crying on the same stories and even dreaming about the same things.

Even all these years of wondering has not been able to burn the fire inside me. Nor has it completely extinguished it. Its like a flicker that seems to burn or cool down anytime. You never know that the matchstick that you are going to lit would really burn or extinguish with a hissing sound and a weak flicker. Optimistically, I want this sputter to burn, and I think, only my thoughts have kept it alive. Actions would, may be, turn it into fire. Except for the fact that I never act. And amusingly I know the reason too. It’s the fear. The fear of keeping every connected thing aside and let myself go off. Breaking free is not that easy after all. There are many lives that are affected by one decision. Not exactly many, but at least my family’s. But isn’t that putting a blame on my family. Yes it is. But I don’t find my family to be responsible of me not doing what I want to do? Its my thoughts that keep me under the turmoil. Actually, it happens when you get mature enough than your age. I found myself getting matured when most kids my age were involved in all that funny stuff. I was able to understand responsibilities. But even that did no good to me. Because I never had taken any responsibility as such. Maybe because I wanted to break free and the ties bound me. With two minds, you can just never achieve anything. There has to be a uniformity to achieve your goal, a single-mindedness.

I hired my indecisiveness from my family. Its congenital. But I am trying to overcome it. At least in most insignificant matters that pop-up in our daily lives like the way ad windows pop-up when you browse a music website.

And then this confusion of breaking free and looking at the world in a bigger perspective, indulging yourself into the intricacies of it and trying endlessly to understand its complexities makes every other thing in my life insignificant, too small, which would otherwise have been pretty important to deal with. But considering them insignificant doesn’t really mean that I have been able to handle all those matters very expertly. No. They just loose significance and it really doesn’t matter what the result be.

Is that a failure? Maybe, I am failing my life’s test. Bloody tests. Why has life got to be so tough? Well, it really isn’t tough for me in the physical sense. I have led a very relaxed life. But mentally, my thoughts never leave me. They keep torturing me, nourishing my brains with all kind of things. Act as a fertiliser in a crop where there are weeds too. Only I am unable to differentiate between the weeds and the crop.

I have become a slave of my thoughts. The more I think, the more I tend to indulge and then feel upset. This depression, somehow, seems to act as a dope, powerful than ether. Confuses me and renders me indecisive about what I really want from the world. Want? I even started thinking of giving something to the world and ironically I couldn’t come up with something really important, something that would make a difference, a real addition in the world’s treasure. Cant give anything. Couldn’t take something. Rotten hell. I am upset again.

Such depression seems to be an addiction and sometimes I decide to finish off with whatever stupid I am doing so that I could relax and think. Sometimes I even feel that its been a long time I thought. Maybe I should think.

And then I start thinking of all those people who interact with me, the same old chores. Daily waking up, eating, the office hours, the same old friends. Can it get more depressing? Of course it can and I am aware of all the bad things that could have happened to me if not these. And than I am also aware of all the good things that I want to die for.

And then there are things that I selflessly wish to do, just because I think I would love doing them. Like reaching a secluded place and let myself flow in the air. Not the body, but the soul (if its really there). For me, my eyes want to see the far horizon and my mind wants to float, trying to reach that horizon, grasping everything that comes in its way. Not the man-made artificiality. But the natural - like an insect, a mound of sand, a bird on the tree, a snake, the waves of the ocean, the distant mountain, a log floating, the pebbles, the rain…. Coming back after all the catch, I shall offer my prayer and start getting doped with my thoughts of all the beautiful seizures I made. And then I shall let all of them go through my mind. It would be beautiful. And than thank God for all the beautiful things he made. The reflection would make every human activity that we are a part of, immensely minute. The world is so huge. There is so much to see. Just that we have been sentenced to bear the things-that-we-do around us. As if we committed a sin someday. We cannot escape this now. But I have a choice to run. Only to suffer later, of being selfish of all the things and leaving my family behind. Being irresponsible and cruel. No I cannot even run or I would not be able to cherish even the thoughts that I am blessed with.

I feel like finding faces in my thoughts. Just like, as a child, I tried to find faces in the clouds, and consider them as angels and demons having a mouth-fight which would later develop into a battle, not seen by the human eyes. The faces of my thoughts would get into a similar battle, as they always do, when I have to make a decision and then the victorious face would dictate its judgement for me, on which is based my decision. One day, one such face would eat away all other faces and give me the direction, a way to get myself released of all boundations and open the huge iron gate that jails me right now. The only way to weaken that gate is to stop getting tied (that’s what a face just dictated me).

I don’t know. May be I am down with some kind of fever. An infection. I know the symptoms. I have diagnosed them. Only a Doctor is needed who has these pills with unnatural therapeutic powers to cure me.

Hmff…Time to take a dope.

To think.