Being Nothing

I can't begin to describe the state of mind I have been in, for the past one month. It is almost like the usual feelings of joy and grief have slipped out of my brain's chambers. Not sad, not happy.

There was a time once when I was simply devoted to being as happy as I could be. I trained myself to accept Life as it came. In packages of sublime happiness. In vessels of knotted misery. In excitement and in pain, in solace and in fear. There was a time when nothing really mattered but having so much fun that I wouldn't have to regret a single moment.

When I stepped into college, this semester, I was beyond just happy. I was enthralled, curious and most of all, undeniably spontaneous in every possible manner. It's as if I was waiting for something that was heading my way at the speed of light. I don't know what kind of castle I was building in the air, what kind of expectation I was painting for myself. But I think whatever it was, has either eluded me cunningly or simply sidestepped and raced ahead while I was busy searching for it. Or maybe, it was never there to begin with.

In what seemed like a torrent of flashbacks, I espied that one time when I had felt genuinely about anything in Life at all.Love, pity, any emotion. I recalled the time when I helped my mother sit up in bed, while she struggled, a cloudy illness grasping her. I recalled the time when I fiercely stood up for my sister when any other kid tried to bully her. I recalled the time when I missed my best friends so much after moving away from town. I recalled the very first time when I thought of someone I loved and smiled shamelessly.

And now all of a sudden, it seems like all that is gone. Gone with the effortless, gusty and strong wind. This wind which is nameless, faceless and fearless. I try to remember exactly when I stopped reacting to anything that happened around me and I really can't remember when. I feel NOTHING but a clammy mist of emptiness that has no meaning. There are people around me, people whom I love to death and people whom I would do anything for. And yet, there is nothing but a huge void within me.

I finally know what it is to be able to meet people yet feel lonely. To want to laugh but not be able to. To want to cry but not be able to. I've become a stranger to myself and to everyone else around me. It would make sense if I was depressed or simply a manic, but the truth is my mind is a blank slate. There is a pent up bucket of love and tenderness that I want to distribute, but I am not able to.

But maybe sometimes it is just not enough to share all the love and care. Sometimes you need to take from others. Now I really know what people meant when they told me, "...you need to be taken care of."
Because sometimes all you really want to hear is a "It's OK, I'm there with you."

But the world doesn't work that way. People throw stones at you. They whip the happiness out of you. They carve you into a cold statue not worth it's space on the planet. Is that why people commit suicide? Is it because they don't know themselves anymore?

It's a fearful thought. But then why again would people be afraid to die ? They make their own choices. Death isn't an enemy, it's an old Friend you met in your previous life and met again in all the million lives you have lived in this Universe.

I spend every night drawing lines of destiny for myself. None of them seem to be heading the right way. None of them seem to be heading any way at all. What if I were some place far far away from here? What if I were still a child? What if I had never met these people around me? What if? What if!

In my distant mind palace, I have devised methods to run away from this morose emotionless state of mind by simply being a pathetic coward. But in another zone, my brain has come up with a default mechanism to lie on the cold hard ground and contemplate about everything twice and thrice and until I scream myself to sleep.

Maybe, just maybe, this isn't going right. I want to be able to stop this nothingness by filling my days up with warmth and sunshine. But that's like in the fairy tales and although I dreamed of being a princess when I was a child, those dreams have locked themselves up in a secure chest. Reality tossed the chest into the sea when I grew up.

I want to be able to know that I am fine. But it's so difficult. I keep my schedule occupied and intact. So that I have to never THINK again, but thoughts are thoughts and they keep crawling back. And while friends keep repeating the same mantra again and again ("Go out, have fun, watch movies, fall in love again"), it's a nightmare trying to implement them.

The light is visible at the end of the tunnel. But the journey is so empty, so lifeless. If only I knew the remedy.
Life would be a huge cheery slice of pie and any problem would be a piece of cake.