Musings

sometimes. i have these useless thoughts. useless because it does not make any sense. it keeps jumping from one thought to a completely unrelated next one. sometimes, it is just the sound of humming- no recognizable tune though. sometimes it jus goes 'buzzzzz'. And it is so irritating. it never leaves, or stops. it keeps going on and on, like the ticking of an old grandfather clock. it does not let me in peace. it does not let me sleep, eat or do anything. i ask it, what is it that it wants. but it never says anything. it continues to tick and hum. and sometimes i get so irritated of it that i start cursing it, abusing it. sometimes i even cry. but when i cry or shout, all it does it laugh, hysterically. almost to the point of craziness. almost driving me nuts. i wished it would all stop. 'and then, it stopped. just like that. one fine day. without prior notice or warning. it all just went away. at first i thought i was dead. i tried to move my finger. and it di

Another time when a thought escapes the mind. Unrelated thoughts. Hurt thoughts. Confessions. Fears. Ever since getting in to this sick routine, there has been very little times when I have felt alive- like really alive. But more often than not, I feel like I am walking, blind folded, on a very thin strand of hope. A strand so thin that I know, one day it is going to snap and that I am going to fall. But the beauty and thrill in it is too much to give up. Also, if I give up on this today, I have nothing to hold on for tomorrow. But that constant sense of losing something, that fear, it just creeps in to you so randomly. 

Today, my dad told me about this strange feeling he had when he was watching a movie. He has watched the movie many times and he knows exactly what happens to each of its characters by the end of th movie. But still, somehow, he continued watching it in the hope that this time, in the face of tragedy, something else would happen to all of them, something different, something better. He was saying how pointless and almost stupid that hope was, because you know in your fully conscious mind, that it is never going to happen. But still, somewhere from deep within, there rises this strong hope and, faith even, that this time it is going to be different. I keep thinking about it. I told him that in a way, that is exactly what keeps us going, that is what keeps us living. The hope that someday, things would be different. We wake up everyday and mechanically go through our lives in the hope that tomorrow would be much more better than today. Sometimes, it even is. So what if it is better on