The Shadow of past

Everyone who loves to sit silently, alone, aloof from the chaotic world outside his window must be contemplating on either their past or future. I too often go into those corridors of the past where some doors are still closed with "Do not enter" written all over it and some chambers do not have doors at all.

Past is what we always wish to change:  the mistakes we made, the distance we created, the words we said, and words that left unsaid. In the end, only deafening silence remains, everything else evaporates in the thin air.

Sometimes the shadow of the past creeps in from a crack when I am least expecting it. it brings joy sometimes but mostly destruction. Then I can not be saved and perhaps I don't want to be saved at all. After the brief moment of destruction has passed, I feel calmness like a dead man feels his pulse, then I am like a ghost whose existence even I deny.

People ask me to move on but they don't see that my past won't move on with me. It sits silently on my window, on my closet, or on my writing desk and does nothing and I keep anticipating my doom which perpetuates itself. This waiting kills me a little at a time but doesn't kill me at once. Some part in my past refuses to die and is still hoping for something different and nothing satisfies it, no happiness hushes it. 

I think I'm no longer fit for any human relationship. if anybody involves with me then the misery is assured. 

Thoughts on reading.

We all grew up reading one thing or another. Curriculum books, magazines, newspapers, novels, and whatnot. Reading has been a hobby of civilized people since time immemorial. We all have our favorite fiction characters from comic books or novels.

This joy of reading, sharing books have more or less diminished since the inception of social media. For me, reading a book- any book- is an escape from this chaotic world. I drift into the times where only beauty lies; where people have thirst for knowledge and wisdom. Every character has his/her own unique way to emerge from chaos. 

As Franz Kafka famously said, "Many a book is like a key to innermost chambers within the castle of one's own self". I see reading not as a means to gain knowledge but to lose myself, to undone my soul, to unchain myself from my mind. I find peace between pages, solitude on their edges, and tranquility when I hold it. 

Many people read books as if they are given a task and have to complete it in the given time frame. They make a bucket list and set a target for themselves and in between all this, the essence of reading, the very joy is lost. Read a book not to gain anything but simply to enjoy it. Try to see things with the author's eyes, to understand nature and its ways, to escape into emptiness.

Like many Mystique says " The true way out is in". The true way to know ourselves, our very being is hidden not outside but inside us only and to know the way, find it through the book.