The walk back home

It is remarkable that a seemingly fickle thing like a unlit street lamp becomes interesting when you sit out in the rain with turmoil within yourself. You keep staring at it without it being in any way associated with your thoughts. The only part of the city being dry is the area under you and the rain drops are salty as the salt in the tears ensemble with them.

There are moments when you wish you were not alive and question why monkeys evolved into humans and not back into dinosaurs. Futile thoughts occupy your mind and attempt to find some way to place the blame on anything but you for your misery. One friend to the other, you think who would be best to call and talk. But if you are old enough you know that no amount of talking to friends releases the pain. The knowledge that pain is eased by sharing is a classic example of a myth. If you do feel easy after talking to a friend then you are turning a blind eye to the problem.

The effect of movies and television in general has been so huge on our minds, that we have a soundtrack for every moment for our life. You always have that one good song for each emotion. Sadness has the maximum variability in this aspect. Different people listen to different music when they are sad. That is dependent on how they react to sadness. There are the metal, blues and inspirational kinds.

On this misty, cold evening, I had the blues reverberating in my ears from a drenched mp3 player. The music prolongs the feeling. And to an extent, amplifies the sickness if you find a song that relates to your situation.

I was hoping that somehow i could channel my inner turmoil into something else. That the feeling just left me like Rakhi Sawant left her Swyamvar. But I sat there just thinking hours upon hours. The mind is a bitch sometimes. It loses all faith in its own capability in running itself and decides to kill itself. Strange organ. If the other organs had a cerebellum i am sure they would have counter thought the brain and asked the brain to stop being a dumbass. Evolution can be a pain the brain.

What if..This question runs in the head and is the suffix for all the possible ways you could have avoided the situation. After all is done with all we are left with are the questions that bounce in the head and keep pegging us back in the lonely bench next to an empty street. To hurt yourself physically after you have been mentally screwed over is perhaps a means of shifting the pain in the head to some other form of pain. Seldom does anyone have the balls to physically hurt themselves. I seriously consider the people who suicide the bravest people on Earth. You need to be brave to even tie a rope to a fan. Think about it. How could you gather the guts to do something like that?

But suicide is for the weak-hearted (they say). And so I sat on my lonely bench with the occasional car passing by.

I knew that i would have so many nights that i would have to fight with myself to keep me happy. Or find someone to talk to, keep me happy and turn a blind eye to my problems.

If you think about it. All our problems leave us when we turn a blind eye to them and move onwards rather than sit down and stare at it. Finding someone who makes you forget and smile is not as hard as some idiots pan it out to be.

As soon as i was thinking about how i could use somebody to help me, my phone went off in my pocket. It rang as my shivering hands made their way to my pockets. The rain let up as I talked. The timing couldn't be more perfect. It was just who i needed to get me back on my feet and back to my dry home.As i walked towards to the apartment building the street lamp sprang back into life and glowed, much to the excitement of the moths.

DICKLAMER - Dont ask me why its always raning in my notes ! :P

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