A Schizoid moment


At the junction, a traffic jam. Horns blaring at different decibels. I clutched my head. I was not in an especially agreeable mood. There was a yellow light flashing right into my eyes. All sights and sounds drowned me. I felt murderous.

I wanted to scream….ask them to stop. I was insane. The sounds exaggerated themselves a hundredfold. Now noises seemed to be coming from inside my head. Horns, blares, honks, growls, roars, beeps, buzzes, raucous laughter, screams, wails, moans, groans, someone talking, grumbling, a monotonous voice uttering meaningless chants, a voiceless warm breath throbbing in my temple, a light flashing, flashing, a pain that shot up my head like an anesthetic, smoke, heat, buildings collapsing, walls enclosing, hammering in my head, rubbles, debris, the absurdity of it all…

This is what hell must be like….I resented it all..I resented the noise makers..cursed their meaningless horns, the urge to speed, the rat race, the throb in my temples..I hated it all…hated it with murderous sinister simplicity.

The heat rising, the buildings falling..the horns blaring, the car that steered in every direction except home, the roads that winded like words empty, the meaninglessness of it all..I resented it. I resented everything.

Somewhere childhood screeches and wails arose, somewhere the schoolday swing that took me heavenwards, far from the madding crowd..regression..

Somewhere I loved them all…loved the hatred, loved the noise, loved the anger…somewhere evilness arose like the odour of a burning dream..

Somewhere the sultry summer day, enveloped in smoke I writhed, breathless…gasping for a hand to clutch tight..incredibly tight..leaving marks of two hundred aeons on those hands…

O..the meaninglessness of it all…loneliness strangles me…mercilessly shoves me into “nowhere”..nowhere is silent..nowhere is empty..nowhere is the place for me…nowhere is quiet..nowhere has suffocation..nowhere has no windows…nowhere is dreamless…nowhere plucks the wings of every butterfly fantasy with smiling cruelty..nowhere razes with heavy boots fragrant petals of love..nowhere kills..nowhere rips the feathers off the tiny bird’s tomorrows…nowhere breaks guitar strings…nowhere tears last pages from books…nowhere steals the things you love…nowhere scratches surfaces with blades of anger..nowhere damages…I live here in nowhere…

There is no escape, no exit, nobody to open doors, nobody to light lamps, nobody to play a song or soothe you with a gentle secret…there is nobody to clear the cobwebs, nobody to dream your dreams, nobody to ask you if you want a kiss…Tears are dead…rivers are dry…poems are wilting in pain…

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10 thoughts on “A Schizoid moment

  1. I happened to come across your blog. i read this post, and thought that I should write a few words.

    In thios mad world, taken over by the fangs of globalization and business, no one cares for you. everyone is selfish. The word love has lost its essence. What is really required is to be mentally tough. People will always try to hurt you. It’s upto you to prove whether you’re strong or weak. Keep the mind free of all disturbances. Do not react or keep these distturbances in the mind, for it will only add up leading to more and more depression.

    If you have had setbacks in life, eliminate them from your mind. Do not try and relive the setbacks or chase them. That is the only way to survive in this world.

    Bhanu

  2. amazing… how do you get all the words, all the time? its a beautiful piece u’ve put up… simple and so pretty. a relief from all the almost sickening indifference to emotions… its a raw acknowledgement of feelings.

    i especially loved these lines “…loved the hatred, loved the noise, loved the anger…”

  3. Very expressive and eloquent.
    But I don’t like it when you write of sadness – does not go with that face.
    I like you to write happy posts like the childhood reminiscences and others..
    I hope this is from imagination – and yes, it is very very powerfully expressed. I wanted to scream at the end of it.

  4. Thank you for the positive comments Usha…

    Sadness is an inherent phase in the creative process..

    This piece is not imaginary! 🙂 I am alright now..dont worry!

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