Out of cabin, he came. Thoughts running in mind of the contradiction and understanding; a complicated feeling arose in the midst.
His psychiatrist had mentioned for the online payment of a drug; for record purposes, it was after the incessant requests of the receptionist for the same.
But what eluded him was how the proposal of paying for the medicine later that he made to the receptionist was never mentioned to the doctor.
He wanted to rebuke and tell that NOoo.., he wasn't at fault, there's no need for her to make such a request in the first place, even so; in those micro seconds....
He had the thought,
'Do I really need to defend ?
And when did she even blame me.
If I choose to defend so quickly over such stuff, what difference would remain between me and the mistakes I have made earlier or the way I had seen dad make frequently?'
Now, if he did defend would he retain any right to criticize and correct his dad or any other person per say for the same?
Also would it make him satisfied?
Such thoughts ran rampart and time seemed to slow down for him.
He wanted to rebuke but didn't.
Maybe that is what everybody faces everyday.
Or maybe that is what seperates the possible fates of creatures from the fabricated thread of possibility made into reality of a being.
Or maybe all that mattered was, is or would be a simple CHOICE.
"And again how would I know I am just an old withered voice of naration to that being's experiences.
So little one,
Read, read you pertain, slay your hearts and hinge your brain for that is how you will sustain."
Tring~, tring~
Phone rings and with a audible grunt he answers the call while eating an apple.
It was from construction worker and some propulsion machinery had stopped working. His reactions, thoughts, actions and consequences played infront of him.
Impulsivity gave a reply : 'So, what should I do?'
Empathy said: 'It's okay, understand and feel workers' situation. Put yourself in their shoes.'
Rationale says: Look for a solution at any cost. It's your house work, the best work is the one which is finished best'.
Thus, ran multiple scenarios on the fragmented time. For how to tackle was once again a bridge of choice and the chance to frame reality lay there in the hands of the youth.
"Ok, so tell me what can we do to fix this?" was what came spilling out of his mouth.
Few talks and discussions later,
Result was: unable to provide any immediate solution.
So, he decided to go and take help manually. Therefore, after a lunch break of 15 mins, he was again in car driving to the site.
AT SITE,
Upon learning worker hadn't had chance to go and have lunch. He went to get tea while deciding whether to get lunch for the guy or not. This time though, it was easier to make choice. He got lunch for him.
What was it that made it easier?
Was he sympathetic/empathic or
Was it that he was expecting his kindness to be returned in someway or
Was it just a expression of kindness as a thread unbound by fate or
Was it a calculative decision to get the price of the goods lowered later ?
.
.
.
What... . . . was it ?
he wondered and soon forgot about it.
To his contradictions and questions, this humble one answers:
"There was no purity. Such is the nature of human heart and mind. No pure emotion lies in it. Always mixed with tinklers of various others, or, and utter abominatory mix of all of them such as this one.
Hatred mixed with care.
Love mixed with indifference.
Trust, uncertainty and decisiveness.
Chaos, order and many more this one has yet to narrate.
Ha.ah..~ such is the fate of human limits.
No pure intent.
But,
Little one, remember the choice is still yours to make. You have been stripped of endless things to give you and your kind a potential beyond the realms of fate.
Such has been this possibility among many others to come."
"COMPLEX^1"
"Hasn't it been little more tiring
With all dew beatles, thus firing.
Let skew'd, mad hush to damn fill
Put mind, spirit-body to tai hill."
"COMPLEX^2"
"Ramblings I say, utter bullshit I presume,
Matter of choice, the illusions I consume.
Threads of Great, bloody hands of fate.
All drowns-abate, alas I say too late."
She said 'Don't speak to me, all you do is teach all the time. Don't speak, I am a big girl now.'
Puzzed he was; to laugh or show disdain.
Such were not his words but his feelings, which were uncertain. He chose to answer politely 'because it matters'.
He understood that she couldn't read herself because of her illness. Understood that, world out there wouldn't give the bonus of doubt.
He found a solution for her: to hear the tale.
Alas, result was that nothing changed. Now, he understood all she wanted to do, was avoid the work of understanding and wanted the tale cooked and fed to her.
Thus, between rude remarks and anger of his sibling, he decided to distance for a while. But it still remained in the question:
What did he want her to do ?
Why insist onto doing it herself ?
What would it change ?
And does it really matter ?
Oh.. yes it does, he realised. He didn't really want her to do the work itself. It was all a ruse to make her realise that instead of giving excuse, being honest about it was much more favourable and more likely to result in her desired outcome. For not everybody would be her mother, who all so grandly ignores her act and does the work.
Such instances kept happening in front of him,
One such was a simple act of seeking perfection in your work after assigning it to somebody else. It is very normal notion amongst us.
"Now, pause for second little one and think. Is it really normal?
They didn't come to you, it was you who asked for it.
Seeking little details and things to be fullfilled is beyond anything reasonable."
Thus, it eluded him, as to why?, such requests being denied and unfullfilled would still upset his mother and sister.
He explained and they understood, but still continued with same.
All he could do was give his take and choice was their's to make.
But is it really a choice or
Is it really 'their' choice or
Was it habits or instincts?
That, he didn't know but understood, each of those options presents and pertails different levels of involvement of their or somebody's will.
So he thought, 'Are we all being manipulated to a degree by some sort of a will?'
"Haiii.... this instance of memories were tiring for my bones, so were the thoughts.
Alas, who knew what the truth was, or if the truth was what truth was."
"Haa.... so tired,
The recall is getting difficult for me.
Flickering in and out of the lucid fog.
Anyways, here's another account of questionnaire with no answers."
Felt like his arms would fall off any moment, yet here he was driving listening to namastute. More he listens, more the questions arise:
'Is it really okay to rap like that?
If not, then how should one do it?
'Why should I even question it',
How should I percieve?, he thought.
Interestingly he then forgets, what he was thinking and questioning.
All that remained was this lingering feeling of weird laziness and tiredness seeping into his very bones.
Now, this begged to question,
Where did his tiredness arise from ?
What did he feel?
Was it mental fatigue which induced this feeling ?
Was it something more organic ?
Was it perhaps, presence of something more metaphysical or just simply, the absence of it ?
And again, was it him or the world ?
"Questions, haa...(sigh), only questions... with no answers to speak of. What will become of him or the world, this one knows not. So here, I end my account.
Go away now, let me rest little one.
Think, ponder, assimilate, introspect and inculcate. Do whatever the fuck you want with the answers of the one, such as you."
And then, in the voices of many people singing in myriads of languages, some known-some known yet to be; sang :-
"Struggle, tackle, freckle, haggle
Panic, sonic, tonic, iconic
Trust, lust, pest, zest
Test, Nos, loss, pain, gain,
Pertain, sustain.
अभावप्रत्ययाअलम्बना तमोवृत्तिर्निद्र..#'%♧¤!_=
Jbvsj.....beeeeeeeeeepppppppp...aaa....
.
.
....aaaaaaaaaaAAA..A..A..@..__
Ha.a..a.hha..."
Like a zombie arisen from grave, dead eyes with pale face, thin red lips...with taste of blood in his mouth (probably from biting in sleep). He woke up. Legs stiff like an old dried wood, he chose to stay put in bed seemingly afraid, dried wood is very brittle after all.
'What the fuck was that...' , he thought and wondered, 'who was shouting all those weird things just now ?'
As the reality of his being seemingly settled into the mould he was familar with. His thoughts ran wildly trying to figureout was that a dream, or was somebody screaming over his face just now.
And then the thoughts and sensations that dawned on him went away just as seemlessly and congruently as though they were never there to begin with.
Returning his thoughts to mundane ordeals of an ignorant world. [Alas, my thoughts matter not. Essentially, I have none afterall. Hehe, this is a secret afterall~]
Picked his weary body from shikibuton, balancing his way to bathroom across his empty weirdly styled japanese room.