Reality of an Unreal World
Reality of an Unreal World3 mins 9.6K 3 mins 9.6K
Growth was alright. Only it went too long. So much so, that one simple but genuine pleasures of life, today, is getting up in the morning and hurrying to a mousetrap we set, just the night before. Rushing to the mirror; almost always with a fear of being our true self.
Yesteryears didn't hold the same uncertainty. Men were nomads but not wanderers. Unlike today, when everyone says 'ME', knowing all the while it's not him.
Today he knows what he is fleeing from, but not what he is in search of. Peace of mind, the serenity of thought, was all that existed. The pristine times might have faded away, long lost emotions might today lay forsaken, the truth of the times today, is that the word euphoria has long been eroded from the minds of people.
Today ostentatious eyes sparkle with mysterious shades, but only from outside. Within are extent hollow depths and only voids. What an irony; being opulent rich to spend on the shimmer to dress up one's eye but poor, as to be robbed off their sheen. Silently, a tear trickles down the corner of the dressed eye. The hands trace the outside of the surface, trying to caress the pearl that left the oyster. But, the hands, too plane as compared to the plastered face, refrain from wiping the tear or perhaps the pace of mad rushing world that doesn't allow the time to soothe one's own sorrow.
Today, man has no enemies but is intensely disliked by companions. Every time he looks at his contemporaries; he gets a fierce desire to be lonesome. The fuming eyes hold a mysterious emotion, that of fear. The fear of being told the truth, the truth about his selfish desires, self-inspired motives. Somebody has rightly said, it is most difficult to near the tears, we ourselves have caused. And it results in escapism, a constant tendency to evade the pain via an easy way out.
No wonder, the skittish child, clings to the dog, weeping the tears of loneliness, ironically, when he is not alone or perhaps sometimes seeking the stars for all the answered questions. Dressed up in commands attire, he surrenders to speech-less company. What a contrast. What a shame. A child, who has barely learnt to comprehend the fallible world around him, has been deserted by the very same world. The pragmatic world which aspires to spin two rotations in 24 hours, the world dreams of working 24 hours a day, the world which wishes for 65 minutes every hour, the world which ticks twice every second, not knowing that it pulls the trigger of the bomb, it has itself planted. The world where a glitch in a machine, spells millions lost.
Where are we heading? Isn't the aura emanating from these vacant eyes enough to stir an awakening? Let's hitch the horse to the pole. Let's muster up the courage to reap what we have sown and recreated the long lost ethereal world; abandon the vindictive instincts, simply by rooting within us, a poetic imagination, an urge to spare the time to "STOP AND STARE". Let's stop alluding our worries to those who don't wear any responsibility, whatsoever for our miseries. It's time to reduce our pace, to care for emotions, to care for people, for ourselves… in fact for the sake of our own self. Always remember, it is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, but it is not possible to find it elsewhere…