Dreams To Die For

I could feel the intense rage agitating me. Captivated within the celluloid of molecules escaping from my inner self is my only goal. I am able to breathe the pain of my cramped muscles. The sun ray has fallen beyond me to reach my door but I am still twisted within myself rampant the dark. Days and nights are interwoven in my life, indistinguishable. I want to run to my past and weave it to death, but I am betrothed to my destiny. The only question intriguing me is who am I? I am ready to capture the answer even if it is treasured beyond the horizon but the horizon is indeterminable.

1 month back

Self introduction is something I have dreaded my whole life. Not just for socializing myself but for being judged. Introvert is the tag I have earned in the past 17 years and this introductory speech isn't going to help to change it. I sit clasping my hands to the desk in madras university. My turn force me to utter the usual clause but without cliche. My dreams are being questioned and my tongue spells the usual lie. I turn back to my seat feeling estranged. I never had any particular aim in my life. I drive with my life's flow and my parents words. So I am struck among these 60 fuel filled ready to drive people figuring out which vehicle to pick.

Days in the university were exaggerating. It rolled in itinerary. I walked the steps with integrity. My friends Saurav and Tarun pranked me to join the cultural club, so Thursday afternoons forced me to digest the boring words of a girl who regards herself as the step up revolution head. She has a type of voice that turns everyone to goggle. My eyes were dying to consummate itself. I would have allowed my face to be slapped by sirocco than having my ass struck here. Among the murmurs my mind was able to read the words poetry contest from her shouts. The meeting continued for another 45 minutes with my eyelids completely shut and me frozen with boredom.

July 1 might have been a normal day for many but I know it was different for me when the sun ray clasped me. The feeling of being a flibbertigibbet started to drain. I wanted to run like I have been pumped with liters of energy. I wanted to experience a hearty laugh, have limitless adventures. I convinced my heart that this was the result of the speech I have adored yesterday. Our college had its annual fest yesterday and it saw 5 ethical persons strong words. Among them Mr. Kawshik's words disturbed me a lot. He was the youngest business tycoon of India. He planted a sapling of courage within me. I decided I would strive to exhibit my excellence. But now it felt surreal. I couldn't believe I am really encrusted with hope and spirit. My hands urged to find a pen and I scribbled words like uncontrollable rain shower. I was shell shocked to find I have drafted 11 pages of poetry on various topics within half an hour. I reached college as an aspirant of unknown determination. My friends broadened their suspicious questions on me. I participated and obviously pulled the trophy for poetry contest. Everyone nags me for hiding my talent and I myself face the new me a little stunned. Not only poetry but film making and sports had also started to flatter my mind. Sleep now seem like an alien to me. I had started loving both the sun and the moon and their characteristic changes. My parents too have noticed my changes and are pleased with their son. I accompanied the moon and drafted my ideas to draw a world. Sun shone to a jaunty me. My introvert personality started to take a diversion from its path and I indulge in every activity. Seeing my transformation i am honored with the cultural vice head post. I felt restless to do things. I had started working for nearly 20 hours and I was able to refuel myself without sleep. My grades too reached the peak and my parents were flattered.

"You don't have to work this hard, Aariv." My mother said with her tears blooming.

"Yeah, look even you have lost many pounds" My father pointed out.

In the process of pedaling my life I have failed to notice is in short of pounds of weight. I promise myself that I would take proper rest and maintain a good diet. But what I failed to notice is that it is the beginning of the fall of me.

As fast as the miracle happened it started to fade. I felt my body tire and it desired clinging to bed the day long. Seconds seemed like moving the peaks. The love for film making still ached my mind but my ability to draft has turned a majestic task. I longed for the words to mend but in vain. I wanted to cry and the reason is unknown. I couldn't dive my mind into my lessons and I felt that my extreme memory power had decided to take a long nap. I was struggling to inhale the once flamboyant me. Words had found solace inside the pen and never left it. I was imprisoned within my thoughts. I felt like l had multiple personalities cuddling inside me. I wanted to talk about it to my parents but I didn't want to frighten them. My pounds and energy kept reducing and my appetite is invisible. Nothing interested me and everything disinterested me. My mother kept complaining about my appetite. I paced my brain saying this was the result of the sleepless nights I had endured and my tight schedule but deep down my heart elapsed alarmingly intriguing me something is wrong.

Depression was my new found friend and death seems to be my destination. My parents had analyzed something was wrong and had consulted the doctors. Tablets were forced to relieve my so called stress but they were just the round closure of chemicals I intake. I searched on web about depression and its effects. I tried to meditate, inside a new clown grew within me to enter the cave of death. I was fragile both in my body and my thoughts. The feebleness kept pushing me down. The sleepless nights agitated me. I wanted to cremate my soul within myself. I started hating the moon and the sun. I distanced myself from my family and friends. My friends feared I had acquired some mental illness. My parents cried behind my back but encouraged me with confidence. The aimless 17 year old had built a dream of hope and ambition only to be destroyed by an unknown me. I was humiliated by myself. My fear of destiny negotiated one night when I decided to hold the power of my destiny and the slender knife found solace between my wrist and delivered the blood and emptied my dream and bliss. I shut my eyes to relieve my pain but the pain of my dream haunted me.

Darkness was present everywhere. I was unable to run out of it. I heard whispers and murmurs, voices echoing my name. I shouted at them that I was there but my voice could only be heard by me. My muscles were stiff as if I was lying tied to something. Each breath felt as if I was entering and running back to a narrow pathway. I tried to inhale the murmurs and I concluded I was in a coma. I was not dead I had been saved. Why did death not withhold me if that was my destination? I heard my parents cry. I wanted to wipe it but my hands are tied. The illusion of knife frightened me. I ran trying to escape but the ray of hope had been far beyond me. Days and nights, light and dark were same. I had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. That's what I heard the doctors say. They said the diary had helped them a lot. Which diary, I wondered. I remembered the cream willow covered diary I won for my poetry contest. I had imprinted my life there, my life from being an Introvert to the new me. The phases I had gone through, the energy encrusted me to the depressed me. My parents must have found it and read it. I felt embarrassed, but the doctors said I had a chance to recover through medication if I ever awoke from coma. I looked up, only dark was visible but beneath it my dream of film making lay. I was ready to change for me. I convinced myself earlier that death was my destination, but now I realize destination was something that could be reached only before our heart stopped its beat. Till that we had the right to achieve our dreams. The journey might be hard but the destination would be beautiful. I was ready to experience it...

The door still gives me a shudder. My room is tidy. The breeze feels good and I decide to take a walk. I call the wing charge govindan, a man in his early fifties. We had encountered a good relationship ever since I have entertaining the kilpauk medical hospital. Dr.Radhika i n her late forties is a lady who had helped me with my disease. She gave me strength when I was down and boosted my spirit. Bipolar is both a boon and a bane, if we know how to deal with it at appropriate times. I have changed much after staying here for the past 4 months. I have my daily medications with electroconvulsive therapy. My parents visit me every week. I have even made some friends here who have been diagnosed with the same disease. I have learnt to socialize and to love myself. It's been a miracle to recover from coma and my fire to fuel my aim has been multiplied ever since. I am not sure when I will be discharged from here but once I do I will sure run to hug my dreams. Why not, I have crossed death to give it a hug.