It’s what they did. They put you on a bike and gave you a push. They pushed you so hard, for a while you thought you had learnt to fly the thing. You should have known better. You can’t even walk without crutches.
And then you say you don’t know yourself anymore. There are certain impulses you get that spring from a dark, sinister place, a place that remains like a wispy, elusive mystery, a place where the mirrors reflect nothing.
The pain you feel, you think it’s different, it’s not like the pain other beings feel. There’s a special, pure, crystal clear quality to it. You could wear it like contact lenses and look at the world, see everything for what it is. I am telling you now, that is not true.
The pain you feel is actually more like a rhinoceros. It’s ugly, bulky and leathery. It has warts on its skin and it likes to slosh around in mud. And just when you think you’ve lost it in the tall, brown grasses of the Serengeti, it comes charging up at you, brandishing its horn.
All along you were looking for your own personal stratosphere where there are no weather disturbances, where you can keep a straight course and not suddenly get ensnared in a turbulence that is not of your making. I advise you not to reach for it, it’s high up, you will sprain your arms.
Come to think of it, the turbulence is always of your own making, isn’t it? It’s no use blaming the government and the political parties. It’s easy to roll the dice, it’s hard to watch it fall to the number you hadn’t thought of. Because that’s when you realize you aren’t the one in control.
How long do you think the safety pins will hold?
Posted By,
Swati.
Copywriter.
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