I Will Think Of A Title Some Other Day.. When the Heart and Dark, Both are Lighter

Have you ever played with those cotton-stuffed dolls as big as a three year old child, the ones that are meant either to be carried around in your hand or to be left lying on the carpet, the chair around the dining table that no one sits on, or any inconsequential corner where it does not occupy any space which could possibly be used, and when you do play with them, you have a hard time because no matter how hard you try to make them sit, they fall back on their head any way?

I’m ‘sitting’ like that doll right now, ready to fall back on my head and hit the pillows the moment my heart becomes heavier than the block of support that the child has placed against my back to save me from falling. (Here I must tell you though, it’s not my falling that the child has a problem with, it’s the effort that he’ll have to put in, in making me sit again) The baffling part is, the heart is empty! Or at least, it feels so. And if I think about it, falling back wouldn’t be bad. My back is paining any way. And the block will vanish by itself. Support usually vanishes when you aren’t able to support yourself. As I’m typing this, the electricity is gone. I’m sitting in dark but it doesn’t bother me, the phone screen is all I have to see. Actually no, I would have preferred the light, but to get up and turn the switch on seems too humongous a task. One of the windows is open but it doesn’t matter. At 6:30, it’s dark enough for no light to flood in and light enough for me to see that my neighbor has draped some clothes on the nylon wire running across her terrace. She must be coming soon to take them down before they get wet again. Like me, they will not get to watch the stars tonight.

I have unopened books, unread messages, and unidentifiable feelings. The only sensation I can recognise right now is of the cold. There is a blanket but it’s too big and heavy for me to unfold.

I realise it has become darker than it was when I started writing this. The heart is giving up, the string isn’t strong enough to hold any longer.. the child has removed the support block, he’s too impatient to play with the same toy any longer.. I’ll probably curl up on the pillows and wait for the electricity to come back again.


4 Comments Add yours

  1. darth elmo says:

    if i could add another tag there, it would be ” relatable”.
    where do you find such nice photos to attach to your posts?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. i usually use google but today i wasn’t able to find anything that’d go well with this post… so when the electricity was back, i just clicked a picture of the window that i was talking about (and edited it a bit)
      PS -I can tell you a tiny trick for the pictures when we meet


  2. darth elmo says:

    also i am not a stalker i just check my email frequently

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Kilaingyan says:

    ‘Why are we weigh’d upon with heaviness,
    And utterly consumed with sharp distress,
    While all things else have rest from weariness?
    All things have rest: why should we toil alone,
    We only toil, who are the first of things,
    And make perpetual moan,
    Still from one sorrow to another thrown:
    Nor ever fold our wings,
    And cease from wanderings,
    Nor steep our brows in slumber’s holy balm;
    Nor harken what the inner spirit sings,
    “There is no joy but calm!”
    Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things? ‘

    There were many occasions when I wanted to discuss this song with you, only to fold my hands for your exams to pass by.


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