llllllllll

This game again and again, what little has he gained?! Churning and vomiting what a sad man. A minute of silence for him then. Regaining and losing solemnly in disdain, anyhow isn’t it weird, it keeps coming back over and over again. Restrain! I am of a spiritual saint, weak! All of his boasting and thoughts pave way only to shame. The old men looked at him as if his face is stain. What people? Who cares about foolish people!? He does which adds more stabbing to the veins. 

Ashamed and forsaken in this biased world, some are born happy and some sad, disdain, misery, pain… apologies didn’t mean to whine but the mind is occupied with this terrain. You are happy, stay away from this place, he has this gift of expanding pain, you may not want to walk on murky terrain, what do you understand?

His teachers protected in a different space are writing about the pleasure of being a slave, they write about the sweetness they found in their struggles and pain. They have gone beyond being a mere traveler; In possession of acceptance, wisdom and selflessness—a gift precious than gold and emeralds.

Unlike them his expressions, thoughts and words are flaws of his characters. His teachers are busy acquainted with praises of the Creator. He remains self-absorbed and conscious of his stature. What a failure, playing with words trying to create his own signature.

Hunger of knowledge and understanding all that surfaces instead are anger. When the stomach is empty it just needs food and it is satiated but the heart while empty you fill it with this and that, that and this…unquenchable it seems. The soul although fed with nourishments and vitamins remains haggard begging for light, peace and ease…restless is the being. He becomes afraid and paranoid to the extent that he thinks, accursed it seems.

However, this morning he had a different expression. He looked pale; he appeared drained of energy and a different kind of sadness shown in his eyes even worse than previously.

He started talking, ‘last night I had a dream...the type of dream that is most disturbing.’ He proceeded to tell me something that even disturbed me. It went on like this,

 “After some introductory nightmares which aren’t worth mentioning the type that keeps the adrenaline pumping, the type that makes you wake up exhausted…and then suddenly I was at a playground close to my old house. I was with my mother and it was early in the morning, the morning dew absorbed into the skin. She said, will you continue to love me when you’re grown up? I said I will remain the same and never grow up. She rubbed my face with her palms and replied, ‘but look at you, you are already grown up’. I paused a little, looked at myself and as disappointment enveloped me,  I unknowingly walked ahead onto the playground and after a few steps I looked back and my mother was gone…I turned and raced back and returned to my home. My mother was there, I was overcome by happiness and relieved; it was evident in my panting face. She then told me, ‘I just wanted to see if you’d notice when I am gone’ I woke up shattered, my world hath crumbled, the end of days had conquered, all that is left is judgment. All my complaints and troubles appeared to be gone.

 I realized all that is important to be grateful for the gift and love that we have. Treasure, wealth, stability are important but none comes close to love, none can supersede love.” He finished talking and looked at me sharply and then he smiled. Slowly he began evaporating, I noticed bits of him vanishing until there was nothing of him left.

I opened my eyes with the weight of a mountain on my chest. I was late for work, the image of my boss flashed in front of my face. Though my work was now trivial, I could care less of being late or even fired.

Fear and gratitude filled my heart,

Troubled and helpless the weak man is,

Constantly living in fear and distraught,

Constantly dependent, powerless and at loss,

Awaiting wisdom,
 obedience and light to fill this empty heart...