Phoenix...
Isn't that the mythological bird that rises from ashes everytime burnt to death? Resurrection as they adorn Christ with also follows the same principle. There has been more and many in the history of the mankind who pride themselves in creating heroes out of those who have died a thousand deaths and eched memories to draw inspirations from. There would be many to come... I do not pride myself to have died many deaths or being credited a 'hero' status. But These things do inspire me for what I am now.
My world changed in a period of 7 days. Things went topsy turvy, nightmares became true and I was stranded amidst ruins, ruins that I only had been responsible for. The past 200 days or so has been stuff that stories are made of. I am sure that any publisher would have snatched my story which would have been a hot cake. Not that these things do not happen in this world, but the way it has unfolded and I being the only author of the same has been surprised, saddened, happy, amused, dejected, at the same moment.
Emotions have folded and unfolded, created and destroyed by me and only me. There is and would never be anyone to be blamed for the kind of turn this whole humdinger of situations have taken place.
And in all these while I accept my doings, I accept that like any other mortal, I have become the hero, villain, director, author, producer of this sure to be hit potboiler, somewhere I felt that I need to tell my part of the story to myself. Yes, I have hurt people, people those who have been closest to me at some point in time, helped me at every phase and stood by me, been my pillars of strength.
There has not been a single person who has not got hurt because of me. Hurt is an understatement and my limited vocabulary of this language does not allow me to find an appropriate word for the same.
I realise what has happened, but there is some parts still untold. Some twists still left in the tale. I know end of this piece would not make it look like 'Much Ado About Nothing' but would somehow make me at peace with myself.
This whole period has been tough for me. To decide, to judge, to react and be wise and righteous. A point in came in my life where disillusionment was my middle name and I had stopped being the person that always others admired of. Patience, proficiency, attitude, and many many other things were virtues in me, as time went by I lost all of them, left with the mind of a devil who was hell bent in destroying himself and in the process others.
If you ask me about an analogy of my situation on a daily basis I could draw inspiration from Captain Haddock wherein his devil and angel would fight every moment and the devil would prevail. For me that tussle was every moment. I fought them for quite a while but when it happens to you on a daily basis you lose it. Your judgement stops acting and you do what that unknown force makes you do.
It is not at all funny when every night you fear your mind. You fear your existence. You fear that trigger... that snap when every sensible steps would cease to exist and you would rise like Mr. Hyde. Was I bipolar? Maybe I was if that is the clinical term. But I could realise the attacks, those painful moments that made me do things that would cause pain to others. Believe in me when I say I would bang my head on the walls, on my pillow and try to get out of the shackles. Those sleepless nights has started becoming endless and my eyes would stare at the window, praying that glimpse of the first ray.
The story of my mental trauma would never end and at this moment in time it would not change things ever. The damage has been done and I am the soul perpatrator, but dear friend I have been the victim too and maybe the most tortured one.
But, there is this a single flame still left somewhere. Just unable to die down in the gushing winds of emotion that has choked me, tossed me across longitudes and bringing me to the shore of despair and solitude.
That flame however, refused to die, refused to see me die. All said and done, I have been great once upon a time, I have been a role model for many, has been self made in my own capacity, have achieved a lot that not many at my age have been able to deliver.
This is what drives me now. Though my past would always torment my sub conscious, my success would never be the same without few ones being a part of it, I would still rise...I do not want to be a hero but I want to make the remaining days in my life constructive, live for others, live for those reasons and people who have made me what I am today.
I know till date I am not fully capable to get back to my past. Because that me was exceptional and inspiring. It would be difficult to get that ME in me, but I would keep trying.
Resurrection has to happen... for those who some point in time lived and are still living their life for me.
The Phoenix in me will Rise...
My world changed in a period of 7 days. Things went topsy turvy, nightmares became true and I was stranded amidst ruins, ruins that I only had been responsible for. The past 200 days or so has been stuff that stories are made of. I am sure that any publisher would have snatched my story which would have been a hot cake. Not that these things do not happen in this world, but the way it has unfolded and I being the only author of the same has been surprised, saddened, happy, amused, dejected, at the same moment.
Emotions have folded and unfolded, created and destroyed by me and only me. There is and would never be anyone to be blamed for the kind of turn this whole humdinger of situations have taken place.
And in all these while I accept my doings, I accept that like any other mortal, I have become the hero, villain, director, author, producer of this sure to be hit potboiler, somewhere I felt that I need to tell my part of the story to myself. Yes, I have hurt people, people those who have been closest to me at some point in time, helped me at every phase and stood by me, been my pillars of strength.
There has not been a single person who has not got hurt because of me. Hurt is an understatement and my limited vocabulary of this language does not allow me to find an appropriate word for the same.
I realise what has happened, but there is some parts still untold. Some twists still left in the tale. I know end of this piece would not make it look like 'Much Ado About Nothing' but would somehow make me at peace with myself.
This whole period has been tough for me. To decide, to judge, to react and be wise and righteous. A point in came in my life where disillusionment was my middle name and I had stopped being the person that always others admired of. Patience, proficiency, attitude, and many many other things were virtues in me, as time went by I lost all of them, left with the mind of a devil who was hell bent in destroying himself and in the process others.
If you ask me about an analogy of my situation on a daily basis I could draw inspiration from Captain Haddock wherein his devil and angel would fight every moment and the devil would prevail. For me that tussle was every moment. I fought them for quite a while but when it happens to you on a daily basis you lose it. Your judgement stops acting and you do what that unknown force makes you do.
It is not at all funny when every night you fear your mind. You fear your existence. You fear that trigger... that snap when every sensible steps would cease to exist and you would rise like Mr. Hyde. Was I bipolar? Maybe I was if that is the clinical term. But I could realise the attacks, those painful moments that made me do things that would cause pain to others. Believe in me when I say I would bang my head on the walls, on my pillow and try to get out of the shackles. Those sleepless nights has started becoming endless and my eyes would stare at the window, praying that glimpse of the first ray.
The story of my mental trauma would never end and at this moment in time it would not change things ever. The damage has been done and I am the soul perpatrator, but dear friend I have been the victim too and maybe the most tortured one.
But, there is this a single flame still left somewhere. Just unable to die down in the gushing winds of emotion that has choked me, tossed me across longitudes and bringing me to the shore of despair and solitude.
That flame however, refused to die, refused to see me die. All said and done, I have been great once upon a time, I have been a role model for many, has been self made in my own capacity, have achieved a lot that not many at my age have been able to deliver.
This is what drives me now. Though my past would always torment my sub conscious, my success would never be the same without few ones being a part of it, I would still rise...I do not want to be a hero but I want to make the remaining days in my life constructive, live for others, live for those reasons and people who have made me what I am today.
I know till date I am not fully capable to get back to my past. Because that me was exceptional and inspiring. It would be difficult to get that ME in me, but I would keep trying.
Resurrection has to happen... for those who some point in time lived and are still living their life for me.
The Phoenix in me will Rise...
posted by cyberoam at 10:07 AM
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