My Melodramatic Life

Posted on January 1, 2018
Last Edited on January 1, 2018
4 mins read
Tags: writing life existence

Last night, we had barbeque in my mother’s house. It was a small “happy” gathering of some folks from neighborhood (including my sister) on the roof of the house. The aroma of chicken pieces was soothing to my dumb nose, and as always I kept on biting the pieces like a cannibal filling his empty stomach. The fire burning the juices inside the meat was trying to escape the desolated place filled up with laughter and excitement. And the smoke, as white as any angel can get, was desperately trying to cling into my lungs to make peace with the blood stream. The cold drinks were the only things towards salvation for the meat; they seem to be the synonyms to my little-great life — cold and exaggerated tonics. The heat in the chilling night seemed to be in haste to get dispersed into the unknowns — each coal trying to live its life as legend, fulfilling the legacy of heat.

While people were talking, singing, playing songs on the speaker, enjoying their serene digital lives, I was just being myself — lost into the flames of thoughts, traversing the hidden dimensions within my mind. As words and laughter echoed in the cold, chilling New Year’s Eve’s night, I was looking at the moon frequently for its charm and was wondering how good it is to be so near, yet so far — surrounded by stars which it could never meet, yet their presence somewhat signifies its own existence. It seems my life has become synonymous to that moon, habituated in the vastness of empty space, reflecting other’s lives and thoughts.

I wonder if people feel similar the way as I do. I don’t get wowed often — it’s rare that I often feel excited over something as trivial as New Year. I don’t like social gathering much because I have to open my mouth every now and then but the voice inside my mind can never really get out, because my mind is a haunted place. It is daunting to express the thoughts I have and the world seems to be out of place for me. My thoughts — only few get the chances to taste them.

The previous day was also the day for my graduation from bachelor. But I wasn’t excited at all, not because I wasn’t happy to be a Computer Engineer but I knew I had to meet people and force myself to be more juxtaposed with them. As you can see, the graduation ceremony might be one of the life-time events that you want to enjoy for eternity. But I don’t get wowed often. And the graduation day wasn’t different than any other day — people, here and there, like a ragged doll going into the direction which they don’t have full control over. My mother and sister were also there for me in the graduation day. I got scolded in the public because of my dress-up and not-so-cool hairstyle. But a mother’s heart is a mother’s heart. After-all, every mother desires her son (and daughter I guess) to be extraordinarily charming and handsome. But for me, I never really got stuck into the streams of external beauty. I can never fix my long nose which I have embraced with diligence and a status of my caste. I can never really fix my over-sensitive eyes which I have transformed into the signature moves for photographs by forcibly making it large. I can never really fix my height. I can never fix my boring dressing sense which I have mutated into a hippie-like satisfaction. Mother understands that. That’s why she’s always whining about my dresses — she doesn’t want her son to get overshadowed by other creatures. But that’s that. Graduation has ended and I am thankful I won’t get to meet “people” for the fake lives. Plastic people everywhere but only few are alive. That’s why only few get chance to get into my hidden dimensions.

Last week was the only thing that I really felt good, excited. The trekking was one of the best moments in my life so far. Breaking from the chains of urban life, me and my two other friends trekked, hiked and wandered with thoughts, emotions, love, hatred into the mysteries of nature. It’s these kinds of stuff that I really get “wowed” over. Living a life, far away from miseries of clusters of people and really being myself . Sweaty body, stressed muscles, junk foods and daal bhaat after long ascent/descent are what I had last week. As you see, I love peaceful environment and nature where I can really fly like an eagle gliding with ease. And last week had been like that — the surreal sunrise from the top of a hill, sound of river flowing that attracts me to dive into, the never-ending stairways to heaven, the strange girl I was infatuated to, the power of raisins I had in my jacket, roaming around the streets of cities, listening to the pub music— everything made sense. That’s the kind of life I want to live, I guess. And the money is the limit I have for now. Going through rough time these days financially, I will definitely go deep into the excavation of nature — most probably alone or some wonder-fools that can tolerate my insanity.

People are always abundant, I know and have always known. But good people are rare — they are like the unexpected algorithm you discover that optimize your life.

And that’s how my life is oscillating with melodramatic frequencies of love, hatred, friendship, emotions, thoughts and shit.