My day begins, dressed in a plain sheet of rut. My diet is filled with comparisons and judgements. Divisiveness is the culture of my tribe. The air I breathe is cold and shared with frozen souls. But somehow I have learnt to survive the day. It is not as challenging as the night.
Every night is a new journey. The term ‘Nightmare’ is truly apt. The horror belongs to the dark.
I get up and stand by the window. The shining rays of the morning star slowly enter my bedroom. I ‘put’ a smile on my face. I know the smile is tremulous and hesitant but I have no choice. I have to befriend the companion I am bidding farewell to.
The night was not easy. But I can’t be whining. I have to suppress my emotions. I can’t express my misery to ‘him’. That might give him more power over me. I tell him that I am thankful and hope he doesn’t see the fear inside me. I hope he will cherish the gratitude that I am desperately trying to display.
It might be a trick I am playing on my brain but I have to try. I have to befriend my biggest trauma but I am begging on the inside for mercy.
But all I’ve got on my face is a smile as honest as I can make it.
“Breathe…You made it! Calm down”, I remind myself.
It is not the topmost monster on my list. I don’t consider the day to be my enemy. I rest my forehead on his chest and play dead with my arms falling, trying to reach the ground, my knees bent, left with the minimum energy needed to keep me going. There is no fight anymore.
I have a family. I have friends. I have coworkers. I have strangers.
Family is a big and complicated congregation. ‘Love’ is a word used too loosely. There are different conditions attached to it, the hierarchy of love is directly linked with the hierarchy of respect assigned to each family member. And the target is to be a ‘Family Person’, the unknown, never seen before amazing mortal construct. I prefer my solitude but society enjoys the spicy flavours of rules. The laws of love and togetherness are so twisted that the word, ‘Family’ is no more poetic.
There is this thing, not always visible but the world seems to revolve around it. Money. Sometimes I feel it’s finite as everyone is out there to get it. Sometimes I feel it’s infinite as the race to get it never ends. And this stuff is so addictive that people (friends, families, coworkers, strangers) lie, cheat and even kill for it. ‘Fake’ is the survival mode. I always thought friendships just happen. One gets high on this companionship but it doesn’t take long to demystify the illusion that those fun-filled majestic and warm colours of oneness are nothing but a black and white chequered flag. And in this race to become ‘the brightest star of all’, there are so many hurdles that the course is almost impossible to finish. I am in the race too. But I guess I am just too slow and weak.
Every evening when I come back home, I feel that I am going back to the recovery room. In this crowd of ‘genuine’ people, my pal, ‘Loneliness’ is the one who lets me out. I tried giving him other names like ‘Aloneness’ or ‘Space’ or even ‘Mr. Cool’. Maybe I am not evolved enough to change him or even his name. But I’ll keep trying. And soon the day will be over.
As my safety shield sets, fear rises with the dark shadows of endless thoughts of frustration and disappointment. Souls judging, tones condescending, pay-checks writing the future. One more battle lost but I somehow survived. The day makes me shiver. No one but the self is left for guilt and torture. A few wounds and some scars but I am willing to do it again with open arms, the only condition being that I could skip the night.
Darkness is obsessed with me. The moment I enter my room after a tired, confusing day, I look at my bed with the false hope that I won’t be depreciating it with my unceasing restlessness. Every night I lie down with a dream, to binge on dreams so that I won’t wear down my mattress with my endless tosses and turns. I turn the lights off, once again trying to rewire my brain that this is the signal to go off to sleep. I have done my part and the day is over. I have earned this. I must sleep. But this determination is utter nonsense to… Him.
His wings are dark, heavy, opaque shadows of fear. No argument is rational enough for him. Mercy is not his forte. Tears, oh nonstop, desperate, pleading tears, now gone dry. How cruel can he be? Can’t he see my dreams turning into sleepless nights? Can’t he see my tired, swollen eyes, my bitten fingernails, my bent back, my blocked nose, my laboured breaths?
His aura doesn’t let my screams out. If by some unknown left-over strength, I manage to send my message across, my desperate cry for help is no more than a medical case of ‘Breakdown’ to the world. I look at the pills spread out on my nightstand like dead soldiers. I try covering my eyes but still the tape in my mind keeps playing in fast forward and I fail to blind myself. The storm of thoughts, the hustle and bustle, I just can’t seem to gather the torn pieces of my ‘Day journal’. I can’t stop hearing voices. I think I know these voices but they are like a hurricane. Earplugs are as worthless as the loudest trance music I play on ‘Alexa’. I have tried everything but my sighs and sniffs are the only music I can stand.
I have spent many a night just waiting and longing for the sun to shine again. I say it again and again, “Just another night. One more night. Tomorrow will be a new day.” I turn my eyes to the invisible window. It’s too dark to see but I know it’s made of wood. I left the curtains up but the protagonist is not here yet. I shut my eyes tight, praying to the universe to please let the sun rise. I put the helmet, the pillow on my head and cover my ears. I stuff my face in the casket, the mattress to create a vacuum and kill the voices.
I slowly remove the pillow from my head and open my painfully shut eyes, hoping to see the room lit up with morning light, to hear the birds singing that the lesser evil has risen. I blink my eyes again and every blink is heavier than the previous. I know it’s not yet time but maybe…
Like other nights, I try different permutations to come up with the equation of a perfect solution, trying to tire my brain as I get desperate for sleep but looking around a gloomy room with exhausted eyes, I realise I am still wide awake.
“Just one more night. It will be over. The sun has to rise. Trust nature if not yourself”. I repeat this affirmation, with my eyes shut. Lying on my back, with the roof above me, I am repeating this mantra so intensely, it feels like the pain I underwent when I got a tattoo.
I am feeling better. I think I am even feeling strong. Maybe it’s over! I think it’s been hours since I have been reaffirming to myself and I feel I have done it. I open my eyes and there ‘He’ is lying over me. “Give in because I am it”, he says. “Who was there with you when people cheated you? Who was there with you when the universe snatched the last breath out of those you dearly loved? Who was there with you in your endeavours of failure? Call me ‘Loneliness’, call me ‘Darkness’, call me whatever you want. But I am it. I am no light.”
I get out of bed shocked and scared. I try to grasp the glass jug of water standing next to the spilled pills and the jug slips right out of my hand. I look at my hands, not caring about the shattered glass just inches away from my weak, bare feet. I see that the lines on my palms are drenched in sweat. I walk to the window, the water on the floor wiping the blood on my feet. My eyes are wide open trying to trace the tiniest pixel of light. I feel as if I am a prisoner with no warden. And he is still in my cell with me, waiting for my response.
Just a few moments to sunrise and my heart beats a normal beat. Another new day and things will happen as meant. Life will be good and only fearlessness will manifest in every action.
I pretend to be calm with this thought, to carry on with false strength, to face the inevitable that the sun will set again.
What is the light he mentioned? Is the light somewhere from outside? Is it the golden gleam of bright, warm, shiny pearls that the sun showers upon all of us? Is that the light? Or did I hide it somewhere and forget where it is?
I know the horror will rise again and I am left with questions. I have to find answers. I have to find the light because clearly, I cannot sleep on it.