I feel myself arrested by the chains of time. The ones who cross your path once, not necessarily stay forever. No matter how hard you try to steal them from destiny, it will always play its games. And midst these tantrums, stuck my soul. Acquaintance with fate is no more an acquaintance now. Very well do I understand it’s harshness. Somehow, I had always managed to withstand it’s shackles. But this time it feels as if it has arrested my soul once and forever. The heart seems stuck in an electric lift, falling down deep at an exponential pace. My fear is playing- ‘hide-and-seek’ with my innocence.
Does it hide in my mind?
Which cell to search?
Helpless eyes know nothing, but to shed some tears. This time scarcity found a new place to take a shelter in.
Scarcity in eyes? Strange? Yes!
Even the tears seem to get offended. The very thought of losing them blurs my vision as the leaking of the poison spreads all over my cells. The kid inside me is crying badly, but little does he know that his voice is the slave of his autism. No matter how high he raises the shrillness, the frequency, the pitch or the altitude, it won’t go past the flesh. It seems to have robbed me of my entire strength. A stiffness in muscles and a pain in the limbs refuse to stay away from adding on to the anxiety. Meeting them was a beginning of the magical fantasy indeed.
A fiction I read few days back, spoke exactly what I am going through today. Every word, every sentence, every paragraph then, seems to have joined hands with every single second, minute and hour of my time today.
Ever heard of a fiction becoming the truth?
Well, that happened to me. So I name it a magic, for magic is a synonym for belief and faith as an optimist views it.
And I do believe in magic.
I seriously do!
The span seems to end now and my soul is still stuck there. It refuses to come out. Somewhere fantasy has arrested it.
What do I do?
I find a simile to the clock that struck twelve and the magic spell was no more for Cinderella. The third bell of midnight hears banging my ears at the peak of altitude.
And the magical spell seems shattered into syllables with those few noble and the finest souls I met, going far from me forever. Yes! It’s no less than a fairy tale, as I name it.
And guess what?!
As I recited it to a friend of mine, the reply that came from the other side was-
“It’s life bro! Stop getting upset at such things. People will come and go. It will take time, but worry not, time is the biggest healer as they say it.”
Correct in one way!
How do I ever explain them; they are no people I am losing, but the magic that will be lost, the angels who will be lost, the fantasy I will lose, an era that will be lost.
The particles of a golden sand slip off my fingers.
I know that. I can feel the slip. I can hear the slip. I can see the slip.
What do I do?