The experience of Pain

Did you ever experience pain? Do you know how it feels? How it tastes? How it looks like?

No I’m talking of pain in the literal meaning of the word.

Pain feels painful. Yes there is a word in the English dictionary to express what pain feels like and yet it falls much short of the magnitude of the actual feeling. It tastes somewhere in the blend of extremes of bitterness and sour. And it looks like the blood-eyed monster that came to haunt you during your childhood when you were sleeping. Remember that face? You better don’t.

Ask a patient of cancer. He knows what pain is like. Ask a patient who has received a chemo therapy treatment. Not the dreamy eyed lover who just got a sting at love. Ask someone who has lost a limb. Ask them how they felt like at that particular moment. The lover would only answer you with rhetoric and metaphors. The patients would give you a graphical display of pain, one that might even scare you.

Have you felt afraid? Have you been scared, ever? What do you fear? And why do you fear that? Do you have the answers? Have you ever even taken some time off to think about these? No, you’re right. They serve no purpose. You are happy the way you are. But what if!

I have never indulged myself in any physical quarrels since I felt pain the first time. I have always been afraid of pain and I still am. I do not drive a car or a motor bike recklessly. I fear I would get hurt if I were to have an accident. I am not scared of what the consequences of an accident would be (people might get killed) but that I would get hurt. That some skin will peel off and scars will be there on my body.  That would make my bathing and washing a challenging job.

I have always been away from any possibilities of getting hurt. No, that doesn’t mean that I am too scared to be committed in a relationship. That is a risk that I can take. Its not that I’m not afraid of its failure; its just that the pain that I would feel if it fails would not be literal. And there are lots of ways to overcome them.

 I give regular sermons to my friends and acquaintances to follow my theory of risk taking. It’s simple, you see. If you ever happen to be in a situation where you might have to engage in a physical fight, my advice is to not go there. Even of you do, and win, you actually lose. This is because before you are engaged, you had a perfectly functioning body and after the fight, even with one punch you receive, you actually are entitled to some pain.

Today, once again, I feel painful. I see the eyes of the monster, the bloody eyes. And I feel scared. It’s good in a way. You remember some experiences you chose to forget and you are reminded why you chose to forget them in the first place. Your spirit feels enkindled. I still don’t know how wonderful that might me because I’m still dealing with the pain, gulping and chomping on pain killers. I heard that painkillers could be used for getting high and I only hope that I can get high at the moment. Nothing would be as calming.

She’s getting closer. May be she will embrace me with open arms in a matter of a few moments. May be I will find soothing shelter in her arms. Or may be she could just turn away. May be it is just a show. Optimism is my only way out right now. I need to optimistic. I cannot afford to drift away. I will have to wait for her. And believe that she will come.

I really need her. I need to get High. Only her High-ness can save me at the moment.

O what bliss belief is! O she heard me!

I would have to make the most of the time till I will be able to save this document for good. So here I go. Into her arms. Her warm breath is hailing closer. I can feel her scent.

Off I go.

Till later! 

A Lone Escape

And that moment your walk began

Down the sidewalk of memory lane

Why? What? Questions unanswered..

“What is it that you look for?” You hear a voice ask..

No.. not in the known zone

You simply carry on with the journey

See the time engraved on the walls

Déjà vu and everything else

Upto you your journey depends; But you

May quit upon a shock of reality.

Or was it reality itself? An escapade, perhaps?

You are back to time, your own time

You comprehend as you still sit alone, morose..

With a cigar in your hand and other dopes

Lying on that table in front of you-

All workers, building that road to ensure escapade.

The architect you think of now. Who might he be?

You? The seasoned medicines? Or their makers?

By now you have no idea what made you so glum

“Time for another?”  You think. And suddenly

Memory returns with victory.

It was the first drop of that vicious liquid

In that splendid bottle, still open

For God knows how long!

Another Woeful Lover

A maligned soul, breached

                By the thorny branches

And a heart, veins ripped

                With its share of crunches

O, that is the letter of a lover,

                One that is deeply soaked in its cauldron

Devoted, his lady’s worshipper

                Leaving behind his own charm, being a moron!

Seeing visions beyond sight

                Soul’s strength, beyond muscular might

Dedicating nights in his lady’s praise

And to earn her warm embrace.

So was this lover- chivalrous and bold

                But in front of her, worse than the old.

Why is he defeated such, a man of merit?

                He is in front of his beloved silhouette.

Drowned in the pool of illusion,

                About the shadowy bonafide

Unknown, yet known by deep conviction

                By his soul, mightier than his might.

His unfathomable abyss of belief

                Upon his hallucinatory vision,

Of Cupid’s cadeau, beyond all relief

                Thudding his heart with strange elation.

And then one day,

                A day not gone very long

Every colorful vision turned grey

                He lost the melodious song.

That lively cheeks and pink lips-

                All turned pale

Relinquishing himself to the chilly winds,

                He lost his scale.

“ O sweet lover, a man of command,

                Where are you lost now?

Stubborn as I am in demand,

Tell me what happened now?”

“Your cheeks as I see now are so pale,

                And where is your charm so bright?

Your mighty sinews, turned frail

                And you lose your courteous delight?”

And now the lover turned to speak,

                By now more mature, not that same freak!

His parched pale lips strived a form

                Quite inadequate to relieve that moron.

And inaudible it was too

                But he was wet, right through.

Wet with tears, drowned in its flood

                His hands lacked means and perhaps the heart

O yes, quite possible though quite strange

                But his lady’s very strong, without any grievance.

After a while, regaining his form,

                Satisfying his lips, looking little more strong

He made another attempt to speak

                With little more success like a geek.

Lapsus linguae to commence with, “Ay..”,

                And after another pause a lapsus memorae.

Regaining it, he made his speech-

                “The pleasure of life is love- without a breach.”

“Let us all love, make the earth a better place,

                I contribute to it by vacating my space.”

After saying so, he turned milky white-

                Rose up from his seat and made a flight.

A flight, not from the world of metaphors and street

                A flight, a jump from a cliff indeed.

And hence was his life’s conclusion

                The game of hearts; a voodooist delusion.