Call Of The Fluid

What happens when you know that your head is the only lively thing present all over the environment, and your limbs fly all around? What happens when you feel that today is your day, and you are going to live it to the fullest? What happens when you can reply someone with the truest of thoughts, irrespective of the lie beneath which you usually word out? What happens when you feel you are in the top of the world, and you care for none, not even yourself? What happens when you feel you can do anything? What happens actually when you know yourself? These questions, the answers of which hardly power your zeal in a normal day, just can make you only utter the following words, Last night; it was too much for me.

Talking about the hangover in the morning, the most unbearable health related problem that have been distasting addicts for ages, such was the situation for me on that Sunday morning. I woke up to find myself on the floor which was gardened with the empty rum bottles, half left pegs, chicken leg pieces, chips with their packets and ashes of burnt cigarettes everywhere. Is this my room or hell!!! I exclaimed to myself hardly believing that was the particular place where I slept the night before. That abnormal dizziness circling around the head and the puking sensation from inside was just burdening me. The screaming lectures of the night faintly disturbed my ears. And the foremost need, the thirst for water dried out my throat. In fact everything was welcoming me, hey you, back to reality, again.

Reality!!!??? What actually was unreal about yesterday night? Unreality is not always about having a joy ride in a chariot above the skies. Unreality is not always about attaining superpowers to rule the world. Unreality is not always about being famed or infamed overnight. Unreality is not always about being what you feel is unreal.

It’s sometimes the moment when you can feel your existence everywhere. It’s when you know your involvement in each and every second of time. It’s when you work on even the neglected normal thoughts by digging to the depth of yourself. In fact you are true and always true on every single movement of yours. But the interesting case in all these is that they are all real. Yes, they are real, considering unreality as the depth of reality.

The hot tea and the poached egg at Panky’s did serve a little for a relaxation, but failed to erase the odour emerging from my mouth. A light smoke under the ceiling fan of my room went well. I felt I was standing sick and confused between two different worlds, one the stressful reality and other the reality of the world of mine which I always crave for. Finally, I did remember. I took out the unfinished bottle from my drawer. The crystal red rum looked awesome. The magnitude of its call was luring and hard to resist. Despite the situation at that moment which showed its devastating nature, the fiery but flavorous entry of its flow through the throat to the inner core of the chest made me think high.

There was a world standing to adore me to its centre and make its heavenly flow from the limbs to the tiny capillaries of my blood cells. There was a world that was vehemently awaiting my arrival to appreciate every moment of it. That was a world of relief, a world to forget everything but to live life. Surely, that was my world and it was my reality.

I cheered to myself, “It’s Sunday yaar.........!!!!!!!”