It takes a courage to stare at my face in a tossed up brown glass of scotch. Sip by sip as the poison slowly consumes me. To some, the tonic helps push away sorrow. To others it pulls out woeful memories from happy yesterdays. But for me, the poison doesn't laugh or cry. Neither does it make me forget worries in a momentary celebration, nor does it drown my cheerful spirits into melancholic memories. Sitting alone, the dim lit corner table, that smug look on the face, sip by sip I browse through my thoughts. An anarchy in my mind yet a calm on my face. A confident smirk unwittingly giving away the contemplation in my head. Yet, I hold on to that disguise.
Watching everyone around dance to a music that somehow does not make any sense to me. I have an ocean to cross, a thought to process, and a gaze to maintain. There she is , sitting right opposite having absolutely no clue of what I'm thinking right now. Its almost like the childhood dream when you wished you were invisible. Oh what a sly game it was. With my chin on my fist, arm on the bar, the edge of the hat dwarfing eyes, I can play with my imagination as I please. The king of this castle, The master of this show. All other things can wait, I don't have to hear every sound or listen to every question. Its not because I don't have an answer, but because it simply doesn't matter anymore. Letting all thats unimportant quietly slide away.
Slowly beginning to realise that she actually believes that I am listening to her as long as I keep feeding her with timely nods. However, I am more engaged in deciphering the taste of her lips than the words that come out from there. Whatever she speaks through her mouth falls short of what I read in her eyes. The way they light up, the way they shy away, the way they unknowingly give away what they're hiding.
We all have parts of ourself that we want to keep only to ourselves. Parts of us you'd never wish anyone finds out. Yet you cloak yourself up, and become walking lies only to fit into what the world believes is normal. So then when you meet someone for the first time, are you meeting them or their representatives. How far can this representative walk you to the real person. How close can you let your representatives bring someone to you.
Are we then just puzzles to be solved. Or are we different persons to different people. Are these walls we've built around us for our protection or are they our definition. If you are what rules you live by, then does breaking those rules make you a different person. What if one day you snap and break away through these walls. What do you become then? Do you become what society thinks you are? or Do you become what you think you actually are, or what you want others to think you are.
Are we all then a product of choices we make or just a concatenation of things that happen to us even if they are beyond our control.
There are things from which we secretly derive immense pleasure. We connive our appearance to veil what we feel. Watching a hated person suffer at his own cost. Watching karma take its toll on those who have wronged us. Involving a forbidden person in the most libidinous thoughts. Things that we would not admit a million times. We deny it, yet deep down for a brief moment we all simply love the way it makes us feel. The way it fills a certain void. The way the warmth of this feeling embalms a certain wounded corner within us.
You can walk seas in search of wonderlands, You can riddle magic in search for amazement, You can go to moon and back to capacitate your lust for curiosity. Yet there is hardly a world that is more interesting, intriguing, profound and wonderful than the one that exists between your ears.
Pranav Malhotra
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