Epitome Of a Delusive Aim
You rattle your mind and soul; probe it further and further, trying somehow to clear the permanent haze that's been obscuring the vision and the ability to feel. It's hard, very hard, and impossible even at times. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, it's stuck there, like transparent wrap clinging on to a frozen container. Your brain is stuck at one point, there's no past, no future. It's frozen. No thawing. Not one bit. Not one degree. Every moment, every hour, every minute, the haze is clouding my thoughts, clouding your ability to differ from the passing seconds of life. You don't, or rather can't, feel the intensity of each passing event. Each feeling is registered, yet not recognised. It seems like our soul, heart and brain combine together to become one big blob of nothingness; of everything, yet nothing.
The feelings all crash down at one point, hitting hard, feeling a numb, throbbing pain, yet not actually feeling it. Does it make sense? Does life? Yes. No! The magnitude of the pain is like that of a severely decayed tooth being gnawed at under the Novocaine. It's a throbbing pain that you can't register. Yet after the anaesthetic dies down, you're sore, bruised, hurting. Unable to find the will to face the realities of life. Wanting to crawl into a black hole and just block out the world. That's when you wish you were numb; going to that comfortable and familiar corner of your soul where no one lashes out and everything is calm and peaceful, like the still waters of an azure ocean.
But as you come to terms with this emptiness and start to face the world around you normally, stuck in a routine, people, events.
And then comes a turning point in your life. This turning point can be defined as a possible delusion; making you believe that this numbness is not right, and that life is much more. It may come in the form of a person, an object, or maybe just a dream. Waking you up from the coma of your own soul. You wish to feel. You fight to feel. Living inside this hollowness, you realize you need to feel, to be alive. That's when life throws you in the path of destiny..
Millions of branches of fate, with a few clearly defined ones. And it feeds on you..
Some get into masochistic habits, some into sadistic, some inflict pain on others, some upon themselves, all to get out of something they brought upon themselves (the numbness). Some make it, some don't. Some fall and get back up, some fall and break, too crippled by the events to get back up. They sink into a dark abyss; destroying their life, a slow suicide. Numbing their senses and going back once again to where they were. The ones who move on are once again put to test. Pushed over their limits, tested and tried, like a guinea pig until he dies, or a puppet until the show's over. And that's exactly what does happen. Like destiny is some kind of a scientist, or a puppet man, playing with the threads of life to see what different outcomes it can make of lives, and then search for new puppets when the previous have worn out. During this puppet show of life, where you get back up and are thrown to destiny, you try to make the best out of life. You are faced with problems at every step, and when it gets too much to bear, you automatically sink into your comfortable shell at once, that little corner in your shell that you fought to break out from.
And that, I say, is the epitome of life; the cycle of delusion, the cycle of false belief and aims that a particular event or object in life will change you. It won't.
Arfa Shahid Siddiqi.