An abstract from my Diary (Notes from underground)

Dear Moavi

I admire the silence that this ambiance has created suddenly, like somewhere in this chaotic world a pin has been dropped and just there precisely there the whole world has stopped with attention to hear the noise it will create, a noise or rather say a piece of melody they have never even heard in ages.  It’s true that too many words make too much sense and I’m totally out of it today. It’s not surprising that I have come in your abode at such an occasion but on the other hand, truthfully I never left. Interestingly this time I’m not talking with you in darkness but this time we are conversing in a broad daylight, the light which is flashingly strong even for me to see. It’s been very accurately said that perfect love is the biggest frustrations of all as it is more than one can deserve.
“Distractions” so today are we going to talk about that, well I don’t know my dear as I’m completely unaware of the destination I’m heading. I wake up everyday missing breakfast I sleep even with eyes open my memory has become saline my optical muscles seemed to be wrinkled like a wrinkle in time, I plan every day to do this and that and every night I bury them. I’m barely alive yet call me a carcass a dead body to be surreal and sarcastic and unbelievingly there isn’t any irony in it, as now even I have started doubting my existence, worse than an atheist in the temple of the superficial god as even that’s a better profession to argue with the existence of the reasons he doubts. I haven’t written anything in a great while received no appraisal and guess that’s what makes writers polite as they have been always betrayed by there own ink.  I read sometimes running and jumping through the passages of the old classics it talks about philosophies about right and about a wrong about creation and about criticizing everything they began with, it’ a not as I love there work it’s hardly that anyone even impresses me but ya it helps you in consuming time in a better way being selfless in the chain of making words eternal, hoping someone would do the same with mine. I wish sometimes that I could be a center of attention, I wish walking the road with continuous gestures smiling & getting hailed by all the observers. I want to be a bestseller and me to be my words a walking library at the same time, criticizing the idea of being captivated, the idea of never being free… “loving the luxury and still in the process getting detached with everything materializing” no doubt even my writing has lost it’s charm no doubt that I never managed to earn a reader the most valuable present for anyone who touches the pen, I envy the people, even more, younger than me thriving hard and hard, just doing something. I respect them and at the same time I don’t even care, I see myself running weather that’s wearing the most branded shoe or carving bruises on the feet by the friction and fun of being barefoot, and that’s exactly what I did today I decided to do what I’m good in every situation and that has to be running. I dressed up in the arid and tepid evening so I came back but after getting exhausted till my abdomen was shivering with pain, I ran here and there a couple of nearby places like a ripple always escaping from where it originated leaving a void of emptiness in its genesis and being its own nemesis. I sleep with the beats of music not because I fancy them, in fact, I don’t even like most of the songs I have in my playlist but it helps me to overcome the sound of my voice, the voice of the mind one echoing from underground.
Today I saw a movie and even yesterday I saw one they were ages apart rather say divided by the century, I wonder if movies represent the idea of sharing expression and everyone is free to express but what if instead I said this world is a chessboard of tyranny where some illiterate (where literacy has nothing to do with education) can hold stones be the face of the mob and gets the right to ignite properties take lives and vandalize the living, but from where he gets this authority and the answer is easy the exact moment he lost to fear, as fear is a powerful motivator and somehow he realized his actions has nothing to fear from. The government is used to violence and in a way it may even feel good, and nothing will happen he’ll sleep in the night with pride snatching the bed of several others,  guess what peace you can bring on the name of protest and what an easy idealistic and cheap way it is to achieve. I used to think literacy is an emotional and mental state of maturity, it makes me think that one isn’t safe in this country any more than where he is as today only I saw the video of a minor getting snatched and thrown and forced and insulted, broken in one of the most developed counties just for the sake of seating comfortably with her feet over it.
I wonder what caused that much frustration in that officer, observing anger doesn’t always require reason, instead, I guess what it requires is called a medium, a medium to reciprocate a medium to oscillate power the, actor predator enjoys it and the prey suffers. Sometimes it makes me wonder who I’m in this situation, or maybe I’m neither of them except being a silent observer, a soldier with a gun with only a single bullet the bullet in dilemma to be used or not. To defend or to attack as survival is the only thing common from the very beginning, the only rule of any war is the victory but some on the other hand just opt to live just to survive. I guess a lot would be happening in this world right now as I write my heart out, a lot of things would be changing according to stats. The moment you’ll complete reading it a lot of children would have committed suicide, a lot of girls would have been molested or raped a lot of robberies have occurred a lot of new writers would have born and died a lot of voices must have been raised and a lot of tounges may have been cut, I don’t doubt but I fear that somewhere around the globe torches would be getting lightened up, to burn the hopes on the name of religion, I don’t doubt if there’s a child hiding right under the blanket praying to the same god to make everything back to normal, I think that somewhere bridges will be getting build and somewhere they’ll be falling because of the poor materials used for the sake of loving corruption, somewhere a terrorist is getting trained and somewhere definitely a bomb blast is taking place.
You may say, Alex, how negative you’re the world isn’t always a bad place, and trust me dear I know it isn’t, being a fiction writer I know the irony it contains.
Let’s end it exactly hear precisely baffled and confused catastrophic and melodramatic let’s together search a title for it or let’s just believe I never wrote anything at the first place, long live the souls of all the predator has lost and never praise the effort the prey made to glorify the battle it’s been losing all the way, let’s find a quote and part our ways or why not wait dear let’s calm down we met after such a long time, How are you? and by saying I’m fine you have lied on my face as I know you and you know the sins I make.

I’m shackled by my own creation and you’re the masterpiece I ever created

By- Kshitij Sinha

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