Finding no medicine, I made disease my cure!

Even when screaming at top of my voice,
Why isn’t anyone listening to my noxious noise?
Why won’t anyone believe?
The crazy stuff I confess are not lies
Or will it take eternal silence for my scars to catch their eyes?

This is how I felt day and night- trapped, not only by the disease but also by the scurvy stigma attached to it.  Its inexplicability proved to be an affliction just as equal as the trauma brought forth by illness itself.
I panicked, I cried, my nails drew scars both on the paper of skin and canvas of walls, yet those remained unobtrusive. People did notice the dark shades, but instead of painting it bright, they demanded a logical reason for it to be flawed in first place.
And frankly I didn’t have one. I won’t slander my struggles or accuse my past for the reckless reality I face today; people have suffered worse fire of hell and came out transformed into gold.
Yet I found myself ashes on the ground.
Advices agonized me and perceptions pestered my mood. I wasn’t just sad and I couldn’t just snap out of it. No, I didn’t lock myself up in some dark room. Hell, I even slept profusely, but deeper into my dreams, demons would come dancing, wreaking their havoc and the restless thoughts would jolt me awake.
It was tough to accept, even tougher to sympathize. It requires calmness of mind and up over in my head, I was smothered by never ending anxiety. Yet I kept running; worried, I’d be left far behind but when façade of smile got too tiresome, I decided to better pour out the flood of tears restrained since long.
When glum clouds would gobble me in their shadow, I’d battle hard just to survive but the tornado would wreck the soul, and I would find my spirit on knees laid over ruins of dreams.
Finding myself isolated, helpless I began to heal myself up, to be my own help. Now that I have learnt that climbing steep slope is too big a weight on depressed shoulders, I now take small steps, feeling grateful for each of them for once I had almost quit on life.

And strangely I found darkness to be contenting. Now I celebrate even the trivial of adventures.
Because even walk in a park isn’t just walk in a park; and there lies the peculiarity, I feel wretched to find it intimidating but once I end up doing it, it also makes me blissfully happy.

BE A FOOL

Days I know my worth, I feel egoistic
Knowing seething talent will take me places far
Days I know my limitations, I feel inferior
Getting aware I am too limited to ever reach the stars
And I feel anxious, that I have boundaries too,
My feet feel shackled; probably I was better off naïve
Knowledge did no good, apart from killing hope
Where practicality lives, how can possibly optimism survive?
Now that I know the misfortunes and failures too well
I now find the destiny less beautiful
Even today I look back to days, when sky was my limit
And sometimes wish I had remained a fool….

“Don’t be a fool; very few are blessed to achieve that glory. Just take the secure path of stability”-you go seeking an advice from elders, and this is the line they smother you with. And it’s not because they don’t have faith on your abilities, it’s just that, they have learnt from their experiences how wrong things can go when you take the risk of heading into less traveled paths. With experience comes wisdom, TRUE, but then again what worth is wisdom if it does no good to the wise?
Getting imparted with too much knowledge is just as dangerous as having no wisdom at all. We deludes ourselves into believing that after a certain point we lose control over what’s happening to us and that it is controlled by fate. We think that we know everything; our potential, our strength, our weakness, our limitations and be assured that there is no bigger fool than one who thinks he knows it all.

Following the dreams require touch of madness. But what they call foolishness is actually undying passion, perseverance, relentless pursuit but most of all the obstinacy to not give up despite constant failures. Surely world will question your sanity, only to threaten your spirit.
Remember what intellectuals thought of to be impossible, was later on achieved by ‘fools’, not because they had more potential but simply because they didn’t know it can’t be done.
Don’t be too certain about your boundaries, give it a try, even if you fail you’ll be far ahead than you’ve ever been. In case you succeed, it’s not the end, there’s always something new to learn.
Ending this blog with a trite yet apt cliché from Steve Jobs; Stay hungry, stay foolish.

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