I was disturbed, trying to perhaps solve a meander, turmoil of thoughts going inside me, crashing my soul, plucking through my eyes. It did succeed in flowing out once. But then, I suddenly realized how hard my journey from the subdued valleys of morose to the plateaus of moderation had been. How I had pushed myself out of the deepest craters of depression that I had been in. I did not want to go back, I determined.
I went to the balcony, stood there; my inside demons still pulling me, banging hard on the resolute doors of my mind. I stood there for a while, as if in a tug of war with the devil, with my mind being the rope. Just a little loosening of the grip and I knew I would be swayed into the whirlpool of tears.
I did not realize that till then that I had been indirectly staring at a star in the sky. It was the brightest of them all. It was twinkling the most, was the most beautiful, and I wanted to have it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted it to captivate me. Now, that’s the ugliness of the human mind. It tries to capture the beauty with itself. It doesn’t realize that beauty lies in the colourful wings of a blossoming bud and not in the melancholy of a plucked flower.
Withdrawing myself from this bevy of thoughts, I got back to the star. Now, it appeared more like a cherry to me. The whole sky, as if, was a canopy of trees whose trunks were perhaps invisible or could possibly lie above the canopy. Could there be trees that have trunks waving up in the sky and branches and leaves supporting the tree, spreading their limbs as if to engulf the surface they grew up on.
Or maybe, they could just be a giant monster, wearing glittery clothes looking at all of us, searching for its prey for the night while extending its invisible, long, dreary lobes. Few people will breathe their last today. This monster will sneak into their room, insinuate its poisonous words of death and suck their soul out of the body.
Or maybe, it is just a curtain hiding the chaos of backstage, showcasing talented actors of the universe. The stars acquire it in the night while its mornings are booked for the sun. Or maybe, it’s just the sky and the stars, and I need to stop thinking and get enwrapped into the cosy comforts of my warm room.
Since, my multifarious mind tends to make everything multifarious.
~ Shorya Mittal | Edited by Nandini