Dreams of An Insomniac

Prologue: Ever wondered what does an insomniac dream? Do they have monsters lurking around in their nightmares? The Introvert's curious mind often contemplates the answers to such questions. Sleep can be really elusive to some, and it is very difficult to entertain oneself when the world around you is in dreamland. This note is a brief summary of "a night in the life" of one such Insomniac. In today's world, we don't really need to sleep to witness the monsters of our nightmares, they exist just around us.

It was Thanksgiving week but his neighbors had spared no effort in displaying their excitement for the holidays. He had stepped out of his townhome with a black plastic bag knotted with strings. He paced a few steps down his front yard towards the street. There was a 100-gallon green garbage container sitting idly on the curb. He scanned the road, opened the flap of the green trash container, and shoved the plastic bag down. He noticed it was already empty as the bag hit the floor with a loud thud.

"I must have just missed the garbage truck", he thought. There were two more hours before sunrise, he hated the gloom of winters. It was freezing outside, the kind that stings the skin that's bare. He was wearing a gold Patagonia down jacket, with a black balaclava that covered his head. He took a cylindrical plastic tube out of his right jacket pocket and a lighter from the left. A freshly rolled joint dropped out from the plastic tube, holding it between his index and middle finger, he lit the head of the joint. He took a long drag, held it in for a while, and let out rings of thick smoke from his mouth. He tapped a small button on his Air Pods as the intro bass notes to Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz plays filling his mind with music. It was his current favorite on Spotify, being played on loop. After a few puffs, he put out the joint, slipped it back into the cylindrical tube, and stood there with his hands in his pockets. He never really enjoyed the taste of marijuana, but it helped him relax. He had been getting an hour's worth of sleep in the evenings because of his newly acquired addiction. The street was empty, the display on his mobile showed the time as 5:23 AM, in sharp white. His mind shifts to the song playing in his head,

"You got a new horizon, its ephemeral style,
A melancholy town where we never smile,
And all I wanna hear is the message beep,
My dreams, they got a kissing cause I don't get sleep, no"

"This neighborhood feels like a melancholy town right now", he thought to himself. Not even a single soul in sight, everyone tucked in their beds dreaming about something they will probably not remember for more than a few days. He couldn't remember what his last dream was about. It had been more than a week since he had a full night's sleep. His work was demanding, he was away from home most of the time this past year due to the rising cases of an infectious variant that had extended the duration of the pandemic. He was looking forward to his break from work this week. The pre-ordered turkey was to arrive on Thursday morning, two days later. He was planning to try a different sauce for the dressing. She would have liked it. Raymond Killian was not well known in his neighborhood, being the coroner of three different counties meant seventy hours of work a week with a lot of travel on the road, leaving little time for socializing. At thirty-three, he was doing pretty well for himself. A big townhome, a beautiful wife in Elizabeth, his childhood love, and a job that kept him busy, but happy. The effects of marijuana were slowly kicking in, Ray was having all kinds of thoughts zooming past his head. His body was dancing to the beats of the song, he was popping his shoulders and nodding his head in sync. He turned around and started to walk towards his entrance door, as the singer broke into a rap solo, the sound blasting in his ears. He closed the door softly, he didn't want to wake Elizabeth in the room upstairs, so he tip-toed up the steps to the kitchen.

The townhome had three floors, the garage and the study on the first floor, the kitchen and living room on the second, and two bedrooms on the third. Ray filled a glass cup from the water dispenser attached to the fridge. The fridge was filled with magnets, souvenirs of all the places they traveled together in their university days. A smile sprang to his face as he reminisced their trip to the Maldives a few years back thinking,
"Lizzy looked absolutely stunning in that bright yellow two-piece bikini! We should have stayed there longer!"
His mouth was dry, and the cold water quenched his thirst like never before. His addled mind made him believe it was the tastiest water he had ever drank. He left the glass on the kitchen table and sneaked his way up another flight of stairs to the third-floor bedroom to the left. He entered a small bedroom with a queen-sized bed in the center. There were cute end tables on both sides of the bed. A silver photo carousel of Ray and Elizabeth decorated one of them and a white Google home mini lying under a table lamp on the other. The light from the lamp gave the room a somber yellow aura, the one that could put you to sleep with ease. Elizabeth was lying on the bed near the lamp, her eyes closed, body covered with a thick red quilt. She had auburn hair, her skin pale with little freckles on her cheeks. A pair of thin lips below a perfectly shaped nose, she looked like an angel to him.
"Someone's enjoying their dirt-nap, it looks like she's smiling", was the thought that came to his mind as he stared lovingly at his childhood love. He sat on the chair next to the bed, studying her peaceful face. She was perfectly still, not moving a single muscle, like a calm river whose depths knew mysteries no man could imagine. His eyes fixated on her face, Ray wondered what was she dreaming at this very moment. Was he a part of it? Was it a good dream? He always wondered what were people thinking about him secretly in their minds. Raymond was so introverted, that he had nobody else in his life other than Elizabeth. She was all that he needed. He leaned in towards her, kissed her forehead, and whispered softly, "Lizzy, I hope it's a dream as beautiful as you my love!"

He stood up from the chair, unzipped his jacket, and threw it aimlessly. The balaclava flew in the direction of the chair after which he stepped into the bathroom in front of a clear mirror. His long curly hair had begun to cover his ears, it was getting on his nerves, he desperately needed a haircut. He was still wearing his light blue scrubs, with his name embroidered on the left side in white. He took a long hard look at himself in the mirror. He had a round face, big black eyes, and a sharp nose. There were dark circles under his eyes, worry lines sketched across his forehead. He had put on some weight in the last couple of weeks due to constant travel and eating fast food from the local deli, but he still had a lean and fit body. He had not shaved for over a week. The rugged beard had grown just enough to make him look older and more mature. He ran his fingers across his beard, feeling its length and coarseness. It was pricking him.
"Need to get rid of this tomorrow", he announced to nobody in particular. He turned on the tap and let it run for a while till it got steamingly hot. He cupped his hands under the tap and splashed his face with hot water. It felt warm and comforting. He used the pink hand towel hanging nearby to dry himself. A glance at his iPhone display revealed it was 6:14 AM.
"Wow, that took almost an hour. Time does fly by when you're stoned" he thought as if making a mental note to himself. Ray stepped out into the bedroom, took one final glance at Lizzy to make sure she was still asleep, and quietly lifted the blanket off her. He slipped his left arm under her head, right arm under her legs, whispered to her,
"You are all mine now Lizzy. There's nobody that's going to come in between us!" He lifted her body with ease as he carefully headed towards the bathtub. He slowly placed her petite body down in the tub,
"That was the last of Tom, took me four days to get rid of him completely, stubborn man I tell you!" he told Lizzy expecting no reply. His eyes rolled wearily, as he began sharpening a bloody butcher knife that was already sitting next to the tub. He tapped his air pods one more time to increase the volume to listen to the lyrics of the next song.
"You know Lizzy, this song describes the current state of my thoughts just perfectly! I really can't make you happier anymore, so much that you need it from Tom??" his voice was filled with a calm rage.
"I know I couldn't give you the time and attention you needed, but I couldn't let go either. I didn't want to be alone, you know it hurts me too!"
Tears rolled down his face as he hummed the tune of the song currently playing in the queue. He sets the sharpener down on the bathroom floor, stained with splatters of blood.
"I just wonder what you're dreaming of when you sleep and smile so comfortable" Raymond begins to sing the lyrics a little louder than a whisper. His arm raised above his head, the butcher knife clenched in his palm.
"But now it's time to say goodbye, even though sometimes all I think about is you, late nights in the middle of June"
He strikes down the knife with all his might, hacking away parts of Elizabeth's limbs, the tap gushing water loudly, drowning away the sounds of love-making only Ray could hear in this very bathroom four days ago.
"Road shimmer, wigglin' the vision, heat, heat waves, I'm swimmin' in a mirror" The song trails towards the end as if each instrument being played was turned off.
Ray begins filling a black plastic bag knotting them with strings as he happily hums the tune to Heat Waves by Glass Animals.

Mortality Sequence

Prologue: Death is a funny concept. The Introvert believes that is a synonym for the word "Fair". Death does not discriminate and when it is time, it will come for you, however much you try to evade it. However, on some occasions, Death is called upon by man himself. Only man has the intelligence to end the inevitable, in all other creatures the instinct of survival is too strong. The Introvert portrays the final sequence of a person, The Lonely Man, in this post and what he thinks in his final moments. 

The Lonely Man was seated supinely in his rocking chair. The stygian house had no other dwellers. The silence was deafening, and he could hear the cadence of his heartbeat clearly. The beats were debilitating, each second, and he knew, like everyone else, his time was nearing. He was sixty-five years old now, his body, effete from the mundane ordeal of living was slowly getting cold. In those final moments, he was inundated with a spectrum of thoughts and memories. He still had some time, and that's when he began to indulge in futile nostalgia. His entire life began to flash before his eyes and slowly his mind began to sink into the past.

A younger version of The Lonely Man was lying in bed naked. A beautiful face was resting on his chest, embracing him with fervent ardor. Even today, he remembered her fragrance, it was sweeter than a field of roses. He looked at her and thought she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He kissed her and hugged her carefully, not trying to wake her up. He looked up at the heavens and thanked God for his fortune. Within seconds he was asleep.

He was disturbed by the clamor of a police siren. He was back to reality, and he sensed a caustic itch in his hand. His condition was weak, and he couldn't do anything to allay the pain. So he closed his eyes and tried to access the deepest corners of his mind. He saw the same girl again, dressed in a white shirt and black pants. He loved the way she wore the kohl and how it ameliorated her beautiful eyes. He realized that he still loved her immensely. She walked briskly past him and stopped before another man. She hugged him and kissed him on his cheek. He noticed her smile, filled with joy, just like it was when she was with him. Looking at how happy they were together, he longed for the times when he was too. He looked away from that dreadful sight as pangs of envy filled his heart. He slowly began to walk out of the place, out of the city, and out of her life.

His body felt stiff, he felt like crying, but as always he never knew how to do that. Only if he was a bit younger, he thought to himself, and vaguely had a vision of the day when he was at work. After a few heartbreaks, he gainsaid the existence of love in his life. So he began to love things that genuinely loved him back, like his work. At the age of thirty, he was leading a large conglomerate, had a fat salary, and loved every second of what he did. Everyone was in awe of him, there were a few who tried to get intimate with him too, but for him, his work was his God, and he was impervious to all the lascivious hints of the opposite sex. When he thought of those days, he just smiled, regretting his apathetic behavior toward them. If only he would have given time to those women, maybe his life would have taken a different path. All he wanted was to be eager to come home for that one person, to dream with her, expose his soul to her and entrust her with his life. But, every night from work, when he returned to his house, he wished, it was a home.

It struck three on the wall clock hanging in front of him. Now it was a matter of few hours before he would be free from the clutches of life. Time indeed has divine power, it can blunt the sharp edges of sorrow and cultivate the seeds of happiness. Patience is all one needs, but sadly for the Lonely Man, he never found what he wanted, no matter how much he waited. He had everything one covets, but he was never truly happy. He remembered the night when he finished fifty revolutions around the sun. There was a huge party organized in his honor. Everyone he knew, worked with, or associated with, were present that day. All of them coaxed him to give a speech, say a few words on the journey to fifty. After some resistance, he stepped on the dais and saw the faces of everyone present. That's when he realized, that none of them mattered to him, there was no one he lived for. He couldn't share how happy he was or how sad he was with anyone present there. That hall was as good as empty for him. He didn't know what to speak, cause he knew they wouldn't understand him. Dumbfounded by his empty life, it dawned on him, that he had lived fifty years, alone.

The sun was rising, its rays harbinger of hope and happiness, began to conquer everything in its path. Mothers woke their young ones to greet the new day. Everything had come to life, except The Lonely Man. He lay in his armchair, alone, lifeless and quiescent. A pool of maroon beside his chair, formed by the lacerations on his left wrist. The other handheld a bunch of papers. The Lonely Man had poured his soul into those sheets, they were excerpts from his diary, things he had never told anyone, things that were spoken but never heard. They were moments of his life that were incomplete. Like his life, his mortality was solitary. His presence or absence was impermeable to this world. His cadaver was found by the police after the neighbors complained of a fetidness in the area. No one cried for him, no one who missed him. In the years to come, the neighborhood was petrified of his house, they claimed it was haunted by his spirit, but very few knew, that it was primordially haunted by the most fell demon in this universe. Loneliness.

Almost

Prologue: Nobody knows when time began and when it will end. Time is infinite. The Introvert believes that it is one of the most powerful forces in the universe, it causes change, and once changed, nothing can be done to revert it back. We all wish that we could change something or the other in our lives, and this post is a story about "He" who wants to challenge time and change something so that "He" can be with "She" till the end of time.

It was a windy December night. The Royce was cruising through the empty roads at 100 kph. He didn't like the air conditioning and asked his chauffeur to roll the windows down. The cold gust blew his thick black hair, and he loved how it danced in the breeze, falling over his face, blurring his vision. His inner child was still mirthful. As the car sped through the highway, he slowly put his hand out, feeling the wind pushing it back. His Rolex glimmering under the street lights, his unbuttoned sleeve flapping freely in the furious wind, beautiful blues playing softly on the stereo, it seemed to be a perfect reason for him to smile. His work and lack of social life had made such occasions rare. The smile faded quickly, as he realised he would be home soon and there would be no one waiting for him. He took his arm in, pulled the windows up, and began to wonder, "If only I would have someone to love, someone who would free me from this loneliness, someone who would love me like her." It was one of those days when he missed her immensely. She always told him that she'd be a call away, but somehow he always disconnected before it would ring. Many times he even expatiated his feelings in a mail, only to add to his drafts. He looked at his watch, a beautiful steel body, jet black dial with the crown logo engraved in gold. There were small diamonds in place of the numerics which amplified the beauty in darkness. This was his favourite watch, it had to be, after all, it was one of the few things she had gifted him. He noticed that the time was of another timezone, so he lazily took it off to correct it. He began rolling the screw backward. He didn't realize that he had spun the screw more times than necessary and continued to do so groggily. His mind was inundated with her memories, the first time he saw her, the first time they spoke, the time she hugged him, the time he fell in love. As he unceasingly spun the hands of the watch backward, everything around him began to rewind.

At first, he didn't understand what was happening, things around him started moving at lightning speed zooming past him in the opposite direction. He saw the sunset and rise many times, and his surroundings were beginning to fade. Slowly everything was becoming a blur, a bright light shining ahead of him, he could barely see or make out what was happening to him. For a moment he was blinded by this flash of white, its intensity at its peak, he shut his eyes to avoid it. When he thought the light had died down, he opened his eyes, only to find himself in a familiar room. He was clinging on to his watch, and the time was the same as it was before he had tried to fix it. He was puzzled by this sudden change of environment and wondered what had happened to him. "Am I dead? Did I meet with an accident? Is this the afterlife?" He was in his pajamas, and his head was throbbing. He got out of the bed to investigate the room. He had been in this room before, it was very familiar, and when he looked outside the window, it dawned on him where he was. "I'm.. I'm in my hostel room! How's this possible? This was many years back!" His eyes bulged as a preposterous idea floated into his mind. He turned to look at the table and saw a laptop. He switched it on, and the numbers on the screen confirmed his fears. He was petrified as the date on the screen was of the past. "I have traveled back in time?? How is it possible??" And the answer was in his right hand. It was the watch. The watch she had given him. His watch had got him to the time when he had fallen for her. "Am I supposed to change something? Is that the purpose of her gifting me such a watch?" At that instant, he felt an uncanny emotion, like he had been given a second chance by the cosmos like they could read his thoughts when he was in the car. "I don't want to be lonely for the rest of my life." A tear was trickling down his cheek as he decided to do something that he wished he had done. He slipped into decent attire and bolted out of his hostel.

He knew where he was going; he knew where he would find her at this hour. He sprinted across the library entrance and stopped when he finally found her sitting peacefully reading a book at one of the tables. The morning sun rays seeping through the huge library windows accentuated her sharp features. She was too engrossed in reading to notice him approach her. He sat on the empty seat in front of her, baffled by his presence, she looked up and smiled. He took her hands in his, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "I'm not perfect, I have these stupid whims that are annoying, I have moods worse than a woman who PMSes, and I don't know what will I be tomorrow, but there is one thing I'm absolutely sure about, and that is not to be alone. I want to laugh and cry with someone, love and be loved by someone. I want to live with someone whom I can't live without. For me that someone is you! I want you to be my beginning and my end. I want to give you all of me. Will you give me all of you?" She was speechless. Amazed by his words she just sat there motionless staring at him. It was unexpected. He was nervous, chiding at himself for such an impulsive decision, his heartbeat reverberating through the empty library. She looked down, and he knew he had made a mistake, a grave one. Then, he felt something wet drop on his hands. She was teary-eyed when she looked up at him, her face radiant with that beautiful smile. "You idiot! I've waited too long for you to ask me that. Yes, I will give you all of me!"

Many years passed, he was still in that Royce speeding through the highway. This time it was different, she was sitting beside him, sleeping with her head lying on his shoulders. The window was down, the stereo playing beautiful blues, but today he didn't need a reason to smile. He was genuinely happy and was looking forward to everything in his life. He still wore that watch; it was his favourite indeed. He wondered if there was anything he would change in his life, but nothing came to his mind. "I am complete," he thought, "She was the missing piece of my puzzle." He kissed her on the forehead and slept as the car glided smoothly past the city.

He was awakened when his Butler opened the door for him. "Sir, your bedroom is ready, do you want anything before you sleep?" He looked around in the car, only to find his coat hanging on his shoulders. She wasn't there by his side. It was only a dream. "I'd like to have something to eat and quick!" he said, menacingly looking at his Butler for bringing him back to this harsh reality. The watch was in his hand, he handed it to his Butler and commanded, "Get this one fixed, there's something wrong with it!" He got out of the car to enter his manor. He threw his coat over the table and rested on a chair before checking his mobile. There was a message from her. This was enough to lighten his mood. He hastily checked the message which read, "Thanks for being there for me today. So happy to see you after so long. Loved the gifts. Goodnight and take care. You know, I'm just a call away" His heartfelt heavy, his throat swelled, he fought hard to keep the tears at bay. He smiled sadly and replied, "Glad you liked the gifts. Hope you have a happy married life ahead!"

Flame to Dust, Love to Rust

Prologue: There are seven deadly sins, and "Lust" is one of the most irresistible sins. The Introvert believes every human has been possessed by each of the capital vices at least once in their lives. Lust, however, is a tricky woman, she veils herself as "Love" and seduces you until you become her slave. This post is about Lust between a boy and a girl, how it plays with their minds and makes them believe in a future that doesn't exist.

There was pitch black darkness. There was pin-drop silence in the house. Two bodies lay on opposite corners of the room. Both of them were in a deep slumber, unaware of what fate had planned for them in the future. The boy had been smitten by the girl for some time. There was something different about her, something he hadn't witnessed before in any girl he had been with earlier. He knew she could never be in love, but he had to have her, and he did.

Maybe it was the uncanny aura of that night or something in the coffee they had or maybe just God's will, but he woke up, with the feeling that this day was the last day of his life. In his semi-conscious state of mind, unable to distinguish dream from reality, he could see the world being burnt by mythical flames. He had to do something to save her. She wasn't aware of the perils he could see, and he didn't want her to be harmed. He went close to her, to wake her up. Slowly, he crawled up to where she was sleeping, went up to her face, took a second to admire it, and gently slid the lock of hair over her face aside.

It was like a thunderbolt! Suddenly, he forgot about everything, paying no heed to his illusioned reality. That face was all he wanted to see, he wished to be blanketed with her soft white skin, smothered in her sweet fragrance and those pink lips, the only thing that could quench his thirst. He whispered her name, slowly, almost seductively, bringing her back into his arms. As she opened her eyes slowly, he came closer to her face, and she could feel his breath on him. The urge in her was at its pinnacle; she couldn't stop her carnal desires anymore.

The sexual tension snapped as he kissed her lips. It was slow and soft in the beginning, but gradually as their hormones took over their movements, it became more aggressive. It was an explosion of their bottled passion, wildness, and the emptiness that was left by their past. He grabbed her by the hip, rolling across the room, getting her body on top of his. Her head was hovering over his, long brown hair tickling his face. Their lips never parted, swapping love juices while caressing each other. He started undressing her, first by taking her top off. As he was feeling the soft mounds of her breasts, she moaned his name; he had never heard it said better. With every touch, she was getting turned on. Passion was oozing out of them as if they had been lovers for eons. As he unhinged her lingerie, she helped him with his T-shirt. They hugged almost breaking their ribs. Completely bare, they fulfilled their insatiable lust for each other.

The orgasmic pleasures of the flesh weren't enough for her; she wanted more. He was squeezing every drop of lust from her, satisfying his secret fetishes. Just when they were about to stop, they began it again with renewed hunger. Overtime when their animalistic appetite sobered down, she hugged him as she loved him. He looked at her, not believing what had just happened. He felt happiness surge within him; he kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips hoping they could lie like this forever. She rolled her hand over his imperfect curves, salvaging every moment of this night. They talked and wondered what had gotten into them. Tired and confused with many unanswered questions, they dozed off into dreamworld.

When the sun rose, giving birth to a new day, the night had been forgotten. All the emotions were brutally butchered by civilization's boundaries and norms. They questioned their instincts, denying any feeling for each other except pure lust. Love was too sacred for her, and he didn't understand the true meaning of that word. They promised they would never indulge in such injurious fantasies. However, these situations are ideal, and not possible in reality. Because, when nightfall came, the memories of that night came too. Promises were then made just to be broken; they continued this debauchery until they realized the cost they had to pay.

These little sessions they had with each other brought them close, but they also raised expectations from each other. Their relation couldn't be defined by a single word in the dictionary, but soon whatever it was, faded like the memories of a dream. Now she couldn't stand his touch, and he couldn't stand her attitude. The very reasons why they fell for each other became the cause that tore them apart. The same face that made her eyes glow every time she saw them, now appeared loathsome. When I see these two, I remember something I had read, "Death created time to grow the things it could kill". Nobody knows what drove them that night, to take the steps they took, but that night will remind them that some feelings are fleeting and may seem lucratively beautiful, but like all good things in the world, nothing lasts forever. In time, flames always turn to dust and love eventually rusts.

The Conversation Within

Prologue: The Introvert believes that Good or Bad, every person in the world has a conscience, a soul that inspires them to do good, motivates them to never give up and pricks them when it's wrong. Just like everyone, Rudiger Smoot, who is The Introvert's creation, has his own conscience whom he talks to when in dilemma. Anima is the friend who Rudy always coveted. She is what he is afraid to accept and all the thoughts that always stay in his mind. Rudy, writes about one such conversation with Anima in his diary and reveals a part of himself that nobody knows about.

Diary Entry #97: 2nd April

"Two years. 730 days. 17520 hours. 63 million seconds! So much time has ticked away without her" said Anima.

"Yes, that's long! Finally, I will meet her again, and I won't waste a single second." I shut my eyes and tried to picture her, those mischievous eyes, red pillowy lips and hair as black as the devil's heart!  "I wonder how she looks now, maybe more beautiful, or maybe hotter, the gym must have had some effect."

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure she is just as perfect as you want her to be! What will you do if she comes out of that gate, finds you here, runs towards you and hugs you tightly while planting a kiss on your lips??" intrigued Anima. "Haha", I smiled, hoping that would be the case, "Don't you think that's just too dramatic? You have been watching too many romantic films lately Anima! I'm sure whatever happens it will be simple and sweet!"

"Ahh, you're boring! You're hoping she does what I said, but you're just too haughty to admit it, boy!" Anima winked as she replied. I was blushing by what Anima said, but I quickly regained my composure and said sternly, "Let's not get carried away with hopes and dreams, you know how that panned out with the last girl!" The mention of the last girl brought a frown on both our faces.

We didn't want our conversation to head that way, so Anima tried to change the topic with, "So what do you think of this new guy she mentions these days? Do you think there's something between them?" I turned green with envy, and Anima realised that this was worse than the previous topic. "I don't know; I hope not, I get too possessive you know! I just can't share her! I.. I like.. her. A Lot!!" I said hesitantly. "Like her?? Yeah right!", sarcasm was dripping from every word of that sentence. "You're madly in LOVE with her, you idiot!! You had a good chance before, but you were too afraid because the scars of the last one hadn't healed! But now, this is a good opportunity; you should tell her your feelings you know."

Anima had made up her mind to convince me to do this. I was lost, thinking about the consequences of my actions and weighing the pros and cons minutely. "Hey! Where are you? Have you started ignoring me now??" Anima hated it when I phased out. I came back from my simulations, and said grimly, "I can't Anima, I will lose her. I don't want to lose her! Anyways I don't 'Love' her as such.."

Anima gave me the 'you are not as smart as you think you are' look and said, "Then why did you wear your best pair of clothes today? I see you've oiled your hair slick, you're even wearing her favourite perfume, and you spent most of your savings to buy her those gifts!!!" I was thinking of a good excuse, to reply to her, but I was too slow, "It's useless to make up excuses! I know you better than you know yourself!"

I wasn't going to surrender, "Anima, this doesn't mean I 'Love' her, I care for her, and it's been so long, a few gifts will cause no harm, I'm sure she'll love them."
"She'll love them no doubt, after all, you've picked them up with so much 'Love'!" she said teasing me. "Ahh, stop you're ranting about that Anima. It's not going to happen, however much you try." But I wanted it to happen and wanted Anima to coax me a little more.

"Oh God, will you please save me the strength of coaxing you, and just do what you want to do for heaven's sake! You've always loved her, the way you look at her, the things you think about her and the manner you speak to others about her. It's so obvious. I don't know how much more convincing you need; I'm just going to give up! Don't come to me when you miss her and regret these opportunities!" she said this and turned her back towards me angrily.

I knew this was the limit, and I couldn't ask for more from Anima, "Alright! Fine.. I'll do what you're saying.." Anima turned to face me with excitement, "Really?? How are you going to do it?"

"I was thinking, that when she comes out, she'll look out for me, then I'll wave to her. When we finally are face to face, I'll hug her and whisper it in her ear! What do you think?"

"Ohh that's smooth!" she winked at me, "You're a player eh! Hell, I could fall for you!" she mocked. "Ok fine, your sarcasm is killing me." Just then a person came out the front gate, my heart started racing, "Is it her?"

"I can't see her face", Anima was trying to get a better view of the woman. The woman turned, "That's not her, why is she taking so long!" I was beginning to get anxious.

"Chill boy, she isn't going to desert you, she loves you equally. She'll do anything for you." Anima was waiting for my reaction to this. "You think?? I'm not sure. It's been a while now. Maybe before, not now.." my tone had uncertainty mixed with hope. "Look at that big smile on you! Stop smiling like this; people will term you a creep! Look, there's your girl!"

She was wearing a blood red dress. Her skin, not too pale, not too fair was shimmering in the sunlight. She was ethereal, I thought. It was as if two years had multiplied her beauty. I felt embarrassed, as I had grown fatter.

"She's like an angel Anima, and I'm closer to an Ogre! I don't think it's a good idea." Anima too was mesmerised, and she said, "You're right! She is an angel! And you are an Ogre, but you're a cute one, like Shrek! Don't worry, just do what you thought of, and I'm sure you'll not regret it!"

"Ok. For once I'll listen to you. You better go now, I'll speak with you later."

"You do realise 'Anima' means soul right? And I already reside within you."

"Of course I know. You are my thoughts that the world doesn't know about! Ok now go fast!"

"Ok bye! Best of luck!" She vanished from my thoughts; I looked at the girl I was about to confess my love for. I'm so lucky to have met her. I waved at her, she saw me, with a bag in my hand. She walked swiftly towards me, as she came closer she smiled.

I can die in peace now, that smile is my enlightenment. "Focus man! Focus!" Anima whispered. I walked towards her, and was just going to hug her when she put her hand out with an awkward smile and said "Hi Rudy!" I stopped my hug, looked at her, and thought, she's still the same, introverted and shy! I shook her hand, awkwardly and greeted her, "Hi Lucy!"

Echoes of a Distant Tide

Prologue: The Introvert loves music. It is her refuge, where she can crawl in the spaces between the notes and forget all her worries. In this post, she describes the train of thoughts when she is hooked to a Pink Floyd number called “Echoes”. Pink Floyd is and will always be on her playlist. Just like Pink Floyd, The Introvert believes that their music has depth, and attempts philosophical thought and meaning with discussions of infinity, eternity and mortality.

"Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air

And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves

The echo of a distant tide comes willowing across the sand

And everything is green and submarine."

It begins with the sweet sound of rain drops on the thirsty earth. The effect produced is analogical to that of the petrichor of the first showers of monsoon. The strings are plucked like the gentle care of a mother carrying her newborn child. The rhythmic beats and tweaking of strings, begin to conquer my mind, trying to take over my senses. As I lose control over my body, I feel the notes injecting a drug that is being consumed by every cell. This feeling is like none I have ever felt before. No worldly intoxications have the same prowess of mind control like this tune. I am no longer in this world, neither am I out of it. Quantities like space and time don't apply to me anymore, I feel myself in the space between spaces. Motionless like the albatross he speaks about, I can imagine the labyrinth of the coral caves. Minutes begin to feel like weeks and hours like years. The echoes of my past deeds haunt me like the devil. I can see my entire life flash before me, time travelling through all my highs and lows.

"Strangers passing in the street by chance two separate glances meet

And I am you and what I see is me 

And do I take you by the hand and lead you through the land

And help me understand the best I can."

In a distant past, I see a reflection of a person, the shocking resemblance I have to this stranger, makes me doubt my identity. Both our glances meet, and I realise, what I see is me. This doppelganger, is my existence of a different time, a different era. When I come to understand him, I feel not a semblance of my character matching his. He seems more focused, more passionate and more worthy than me. I am ashamed of my reflection, and I hope I could have taken my alter ego's hand and lead him to a different land, where I would be more proud of my present living. But alas that time has passed and so has the tempo of the groove.  It has become slow, toying with my thoughts and I am lead to a different path, by my ventriloquist, engineering my brains movement with invisible strings.

Suddenly I see an endless beach, white sand everywhere. There are no shores, no life; the horizon is the limit. In the figment of my imagination, I witness the forces manipulating the neural signals in my body. The two magicians with their hypnotic devices are making me dance to their tunes. One of them uses two wooden sticks that he beats on leather and metal to define my rhythm. The other has a six-stringed sonic boom, that numbs my conscience. The next four minutes are ecstatic. The passion and love of these wizards flow through my veins. This divine magic takes me on an emotional ride, making me feel every emotion universally known. I feel the greed to stay in this state of trance forever. There is a new form of energy surging within me, and I can do anything that seemed difficult before. I want to become something in this world, be recognised and my growth shall serve vengeance upon my enemies. Slowly, the power of the magician's spell is dimming. All strength is being sucked out of me; I feel exhausted. I have been dancing too long; I need rest. My eyes close and as the magicians end their spell, I fall into deep slumber. 

"Cloudless every day you fall upon my waking eyes

Inviting and inciting me to rise

And through the window in the wall

Come streaming in on sunlight wings

A million bright ambassadors of morning."

I can't open my eyes fully. The sun is blazing over me, and I have a blurry image of everything around me. I can hear screeches of marine creatures now and then. This cacophony begins to align into a slow melodious beat. A heavy bass sets the tone, and I start getting a clear picture of my surroundings. I'm lying alone, in an abandoned wooden shack. I might have seen this shack once before, in my dreams. The pitch rises every second as if it is set to go off in a while. I get out of the shack, to find myself on the same endless beach, only now, I can see the waves lapping in an oscillatory motion in front of my eyes. The wind is blowing strong, a sweet smell of freedom in it. 

"And no one sings me lullabies

And no one makes me close my eyes

So I throw the windows wide

And call to you across the sky."

Suddenly the beats climax into frantic jangling which gives me the impression of a bird being freed from the clutches of monotonicity. This is when it dawns on me, that this place where I am now, I have no one. Nobody to sing me lullabies, nobody to care for me. I will be so lonely, that all I am,  and all I will ever be, will be witnessed only by the echoes of these distant tides. But secretly, this is what I have wished. Living aloof from all the worries of the world. Being closer to the Creator by living among his greatest creations. Knowing this, I feel at peace, more enlightened than ever. I feel there is nothing left to accomplish. My mind is empty, like the colour of the sands. I can again hear the sound of the raindrops. I am weightless. My soul rises high; it begins to disintegrate into the soothing rhythms. I feel myself drowning in the sounds, only to be a part of the never-ending echo.

Amaranthine Existence

Prologue: "Amaranthine" has two meanings, one of which is a colour and the other is Undying or Unfading. These are diary entries by Rudiger Smoot, who is The Introvert's creation. Rudy is based on her Alter-Ego close friend and this post is part of a series, Rudy's Chronicles, which shares glimpses of how an Introverted Mind thinks.

Diary Entry #146: 3rd February

It was twilight, the time when the sky was the canvas and mother nature the artist. She smeared different shades of red & orange as the sands of time steadily dropped. He was there, witnessing the creation of her masterpiece, in complete awe of her talent. Rudy would always visit the end of the city when he felt like having a conversation in silence. There weren't many people at this time of the day. Rudy seated himself on his slippers, avoiding soiling his jeans. He sat there idyllically staring at the waves, lost in thought. His daydreaming was broken by the cold water lapping his feet; the tides were rising. The waves were just like little disobedient children being pulled by their mother to take them home.

Home Rudy reminisced. He had a smile on his face thinking about this. He hadn't had such a curve on his face since a long time. It was one, filled with true happiness, from the inner chambers of his heart. He knew he loved everyone back home, however difficult they were to live with. He saw a boat leave the shore, on it was a man waving back at his family, a wife, a young son & a baby daughter. He would probably never see them again, delving into the heart of the ocean, facing unknown dangers, but, like everyone else, he hoped. He hoped to come back and feel the warmth of his wife once again. He wished to see his children grow old, get married and get on with their journey in life. Hope Rudy derided. He of all people knew how treacherous it was clinging to hope. The only thing greater than fear he thought.

He turned his gaze back to the waves. They continued oscillating, never giving up, always trying to meet the land, rising every time they fell. Rudiger had loved beaches as a child, and he could relate to them, talk to them and share all his emotions with them, without uttering a word. He was not great with people; he preferred inanimate objects. Often, he would discuss his turmoils with his car, earphones or even his pillow. This would always astound the people around him eventually deeming him to be off his rocker. Rudy, on the other hand, was inured to their judgements. They weren't important, he thought, every time. He loved his songs in his playlist, they never judged him. They were his partners in crime, complementing his whims, by his side for every tricky bend in his life. He plugged his earphones & debauched in the tunes of ecstasy.

The sun was almost engulfed by the ocean; it was beginning to get dark. He saw a flock of birds forming perfect geometric shapes, flying back to their nests. He looked around; people began filling parts of the beach, encroaching his solitary. A young teen approached Rudy, prodding him to buy a few balloons from him. He could have been the next billionaire if luck had favoured him to be born into a better family. Maybe the boy wanted to do something other than selling balloons; maybe he wanted to be a singer, maybe he wanted to be a writer or maybe he wanted to be a dictator. Rudy reached for his wallet, took out a note of the highest denomination and handed it to the kid. He took all the balloons and told him to enjoy his day.

Just then his phone rang. He answered it, listened carefully, muttered a few words and said: "I'll be there". Rudy decided to listen to his favourite song as a parting gift. He realised he had to head back to his promotion party; everyone was waiting for him. A part of him wanted to stay back, enjoy this amaranthine existence of himself, but he knew that sometimes social obligations must be fulfilled to survive in the muck of the world. The song was over.

He rose to his feet, rolled his earphones and prepared himself for the perfunctory performance he was about to give. He put on his fake mask that he used in the world, practised his feigned smiles until he was satisfied and began walking along the shore. He looked up at the sky; it was black with a tinge of dark blue. The diamonds of the sky had come out of hiding, twinkling personifying jubilance. Rudy envied them; they were immortal. They were happy. They were far away from humankind, he concluded. As he walked, he noticed his footprints being washed away by those waves. Rudy smiled, not the one he practised; he knew how similar his footprints were to his existence at the beach. It would be written & forgotten, for nobody to read, nobody to see, forever preserved in the chapters of time. Undying. Unfading.