On The Edge....
I am standing on the edge of the cliff...waiting for someone,imploring a kindred soul to pull me back from the brink. But there IS no one. No one to command me to step back from the edge. No one to forcefully pull me back from the edge. No one to gently request me to walk back from the edge,retrace my steps. No one to make me see the light of sanity,or hear the voice of reason..no one to make me understand...that why death is not such a sensible choice.
But I am in a world of my own. All my senses are on the brink of a major crisis. I do not want to hear people,I do not want to see them look at me,with that sad,sympathetic look in their eyes. I do not want their fake sympathy. I do not want to see that miserable look reflected in their faces. Faces worn with the ravages of time,lined with creases,hardened with the vagaries and experiences of the world outside. I do not want them to gloat over my failures - how I've turned into a nervous wreck,how my insides are churning over with my uselessness,how I can conquer my sad life only through Death. No one understands.
I walk ahead. Look at the land beneath my feet. Very soon,it will be replaced by the cool lightness of the air around me. I turn my head. Look at the fields behind me one last time. The slightest of doubts rears its head in my brain. Is this a good idea? Will death unlock all the misery I want to run away from? Will I be happier? Or worse? I have no idea. All my hesitation crumbles under the force of my feet. Moving forward rapidly. Under a compulsion from the brain..not to stop.
And this is the last step. I look back again. No one there to call me back. It seems as if Fate has conspired against me. Just when I needed someone to reassure me that everything would turn out fine,I see myself all alone in the world,all by myself. And believe me,it is not a pretty sight. A young girl,with no one to turn to,no one to talk to. No one who cares about her,none who looks at her lovingly. None who shares her joy. Or helps her overcome those dark days of grief. It is as if my life has turned a full circle. And it is left to me to take the final step to sketch out the circumference of the circle. Make both the ends meet. A finality. Which is reassuring,in its own way. If you try to look!
There is no looking back for me now. This is the point of no-return. As they say in hackeneyed cliches, "the beginning of the end". My mind whispers the thought. It feels good. I spread my hands. Feel like a bird about to soar. And maybe that is what I will do when I am free from the joylessness of the world. I take the plunge. Feel the ground disappearing from under my feet. Feel the cold air slapping my face. Swish-swish.
I am flying. Soaring. I feel happy. Weightless. The water pulls me towards itself with a frightening alacrity. But I am not scared. I feel overjoyed. This is the end. The end of all my sorrows. The start of a new life,where I hope I will clean my slate and start afresh. I look down at the black water. I am approaching it with great speed. I spend my final few moments in the clean,fresh air.
And then I hit the water like a stone. Sink into my watery grave. Gasp for breath,but I do not break to the surface. My senses are benumbed by the cold. I am being pulled down. I allow myself to be pulled down. No flailing of arms will characterise my end. A quiet silence will do just fine. And that is what happens. I sink into the cold darkness of the sea. Deep silence. Solitude. Something which I never could carve out in my life. Something I cherished. And then, nothingness...............
But I am in a world of my own. All my senses are on the brink of a major crisis. I do not want to hear people,I do not want to see them look at me,with that sad,sympathetic look in their eyes. I do not want their fake sympathy. I do not want to see that miserable look reflected in their faces. Faces worn with the ravages of time,lined with creases,hardened with the vagaries and experiences of the world outside. I do not want them to gloat over my failures - how I've turned into a nervous wreck,how my insides are churning over with my uselessness,how I can conquer my sad life only through Death. No one understands.
I walk ahead. Look at the land beneath my feet. Very soon,it will be replaced by the cool lightness of the air around me. I turn my head. Look at the fields behind me one last time. The slightest of doubts rears its head in my brain. Is this a good idea? Will death unlock all the misery I want to run away from? Will I be happier? Or worse? I have no idea. All my hesitation crumbles under the force of my feet. Moving forward rapidly. Under a compulsion from the brain..not to stop.
And this is the last step. I look back again. No one there to call me back. It seems as if Fate has conspired against me. Just when I needed someone to reassure me that everything would turn out fine,I see myself all alone in the world,all by myself. And believe me,it is not a pretty sight. A young girl,with no one to turn to,no one to talk to. No one who cares about her,none who looks at her lovingly. None who shares her joy. Or helps her overcome those dark days of grief. It is as if my life has turned a full circle. And it is left to me to take the final step to sketch out the circumference of the circle. Make both the ends meet. A finality. Which is reassuring,in its own way. If you try to look!
There is no looking back for me now. This is the point of no-return. As they say in hackeneyed cliches, "the beginning of the end". My mind whispers the thought. It feels good. I spread my hands. Feel like a bird about to soar. And maybe that is what I will do when I am free from the joylessness of the world. I take the plunge. Feel the ground disappearing from under my feet. Feel the cold air slapping my face. Swish-swish.
I am flying. Soaring. I feel happy. Weightless. The water pulls me towards itself with a frightening alacrity. But I am not scared. I feel overjoyed. This is the end. The end of all my sorrows. The start of a new life,where I hope I will clean my slate and start afresh. I look down at the black water. I am approaching it with great speed. I spend my final few moments in the clean,fresh air.
And then I hit the water like a stone. Sink into my watery grave. Gasp for breath,but I do not break to the surface. My senses are benumbed by the cold. I am being pulled down. I allow myself to be pulled down. No flailing of arms will characterise my end. A quiet silence will do just fine. And that is what happens. I sink into the cold darkness of the sea. Deep silence. Solitude. Something which I never could carve out in my life. Something I cherished. And then, nothingness...............
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