Saturday, September 15, 2012

Who's the biggest sinner of 'em all?


NOTE : Purely an attempt at making the Writer's Bock go away. So the piece isn't very well structured. OR written, for that matter. Bear with me please. 
As she was sitting in her balcony sipping on her morning cup of coffee, her mind started going numb. The dishonesty, the manipulations, the falsehood, everything sucked the life out of her being. It was difficult existing here, you know? It was a task to not be dysfunctional. Thinking, pondering, discarding, giving up…a life so predictable, so hollow. Mirth? Myth.

And then, a sudden chill coursed through every fiber of her being. Jolted her, gripped her. Her heart skipped a beat, her thoughts muddled. She opened her eyes; opened them slowly and cautiously. The feeling was beyond human, almost supernatural. What happened? Did the world change in that one split second? Why did everything look so different, so…STILL?

All of a sudden, it hit her. The world just froze. Life stood still. Literally, metaphorically, in every way imaginable. The old lady with her rosary beads, gazing emptily into nothingness, her fingers still on the rosary. That quiet man who lives across the street, transfixed at his doorstep, one leg half in motion. Those two little sparrows, frozen mid-air like little wisps of polluted air.

But then, why not her? Why did the world stand still FOR her, and not WITH her? She was perplexed beyond limit. Was she doing something wrong? Different? Was she turning a blind eye to something that needs to be seen, ignoring something that has been screaming to be heard? So many unresolved questions, doubtful theories.

And then she saw it. The lady. Her eyes. Filled with sadness, haunted by the ghosts of her past. But she had always been the cheerful one in the neighborhood, with her rosemary and kind words accompanying her everywhere. But now, with all the flitting and fidgeting eliminated, she saw into her soul. The sadness was eerie, unsettling.

The man. The quiet, docile gentleman, caught mid-step. His eyes were SCREAMING to be heard. There was SO much running through his head, coursing through his veins, begging to be let free from the chained bond of fears and apprehensions. All his soul wanted was to be heard, to bare it all. Yet, there he was, his hand clutched tightly across his briefcase, turning his knuckles white. There he was, sabotaging his inner self with pursed lips and escapist gazes.

That little girl on the swings. Eyes mourning a trust betrayed, a truth plundered. An innocence marred by a strange hint of gloom. A lonely childhood enveloping her being, closing in on her happiness. Till now, she was just another pretty little girl in a summer dress. Now, she’s an epitome of mystery beyond comprehension.

And just like it came, it went away in a jiffy. The beads started moving(A smile across gardens followed). The feet moved on from the doorstep towards the car(a nervous glance towards the balcony followed). The swing went higher and higher(a hollow smile followed).

That’s when the realization dawned upon her, leaving her aghast. Everyone carries their own unfair share of grief around, their own set of ghosts of the past. Every one of them is haunted by one evil or the other, disrupting the normalcy of life, giving the fa├žade away. Her devils aren’t hers alone. Every soul has a part of it. Breaking people apart, piece by piece, lie by lie, sorrow by sorrow. She wasn’t alone; lonely, yes. Alone, no.

Those few seconds transformed the way she looked at life. There’s no sin insignificant enough to be eradicated, no sin grave enough to be overpowered by it. It is there, it is who we are. Sinners. We live, breathe, feed on them. Sins. We, the sinners.

And one of these days, all the sins in the world shall amalgamate to constitute a vice so overwhelming, its mere presence shall drive all the good in the world away.
And then, we’ll be one. Us. The Sinners. We shall be one. A world of lies, a world of manipulations, a world of dishonesty, a world of gloom…….but nonetheless, the a world shared.