From my Diary - Part 1

They say cut the emotional vein, chop it, tear it or brutally dissect it, pull it out from the heart then let it bleed, let it bleed till the blood dries out, becomes crimson. And then start afresh- become the tiger.

Do you remember the time when you were a little lamb, so innocent, so excited a little apprehensive but with a little push you entered the world.

So what happened, what changed, the surroundings are still the same, the people running, rushing towards the light like bugs. Once the lime light was on you, so where is it today?

So many people, so many faces, so many masks, so many conversations, so many words, so many acquaintances, they walked with you, walked the line.

Music, lights, parties, excitement, echoing laughter, twinkling glasses, passion, burning desires, frustrations, hopelessness, defects- all melted in. The disco lights- the ecstasy- and then darkness- hangovers- headaches- fights.

And then different lights- traffic lights, cars, races, new roads, new milestones, the three companions- wine, women and songs- and the never stopping ticking of the clock.

New towns, new rooms, new challenges, new sheets, and the smell of the same old passion- broken hair, black pins, spilled whiskey, dirty clothes, head heavy- flashbacks, memories, breakups, break downs, regrets, broken promises, broken commitments- but no faces- no, no faces- just words, conversations.

Then a long, lonely road and a lonely traveler- going to work and coming back- to and fro, to and fro, to and fro, but with no feelings, no emotions, selfishness oh selfishness is there- egoism- race day after day after day. And the clock ticks, the reasons fly by- days, months, years, decades.

And one day when you finally sit down on the rocking chair in front of the gold plated fire place, burning with fire of human regret- drinking, yes drinking still drinking- the last bitter sip.

One thinks- thinks, thinks and thinks, when oh when, when did I? Was it then, or before that, much before, was it when I stole my first chocolate or cheated in an exam- or was it when I for the first time ever took away all the cash from the roulette table.

Did I ever achieve my ecstasy; the oceanic blue- was it while sniffing white powder from the unknown, elongated torsos, or was it doing my final confessions after or was it achieved when I gave away my life’s earning to the orphan house- was that really my life’s earning- one thinks.

How life slipped through my own fingers like sand running, completing the prescribed hours.

Who I won and what I lost were my victories so hollow and my defects so drenching?

Melancholy, nostalgia became my life partners- No questions, no queries, just accusations, blames, judgments- hate, no hate- maybe hate but no understanding.

And finally I became, what I was meant to be- was it fate, destiny or my own doings.

The lamb runs the eternal immortal game of life and becomes human- was there any paradise lost? Or is it still waiting-