Part 3 – One Last Lullaby…

22 03 2007

The white light was blinding. It was invading each and every part of his whole being. He felt so safe, as if floating on a bed made of the finest hand plucked cotton. Muffled voices resonated around like a sweet soft serenade welcoming his arrival. Was it finally it? He still had trouble to focus but the first impression was so tender to his senses that he let himself be carried away. There was no pain… nothing… just pure harmony. Funny, he thought; he felt drowsy, somewhat like he was high, under the effect of a powerful hallucinogen. It all seemed so perfect… till…

Beep. He woke up from his trance with a violent blow on his ear drums, each sequence of that repetitive sound resonating like a million bells inside his head. He tried to scream but couldn’t… he tried to move, in vain… Was it another nightmare? His eyes strained to fathom the blurred outline of the moving objects above. They finally came into focus. Someone had just shone a flashlight into his eyes and was noting something down. The scene seemed strangely familiar. Then it all came to him. The voices, people moving around, the repetitive sounds…

Truths can hurt. And this one did. He tried to recollect how he landed there, but his mind was a mere pile of random scraps of memory. However hard he tried to rearrange all the junk inside, it made no difference. The more he tried to remember, the less he could put his finger on. Contradictory? It seemed that his whole world revolved around that concept. Paradoxical thoughts.

Few could really understand him, and even those who did, were far from holding the answer to the complexity of his thoughts. The world is made of conflicting opinions and paradoxes. People just never bother to get to the depth of things, they never try to analyse all the nuances, taking everything for granted. And in a way, that’s how they interacted with him. He was often thought to be contradicting himself, giving the impression he never really knew what he was doing. But in fact, they never really bothered to understand the extent of his actions. Maybe in a way, they never really could.

He often saw himself like a Rubix cube; with 6 different faces, each with a distinct pattern and colour. You see only what you want to see, one face at a time. Few would try to examine several faces simultaneously. And further less would try to understand the cube as a whole. The more you try to solve it, the more complicated it got. It’s easy to get one segment right, but that would only increase the complexity of the problem. ’cause its never about getting one right at a time, its about solving the entire dilemma as one single piece. That’s where the problems kick in.

For some, life is only a single straight line. They would never bother to look around, to understand their environment, or try to explore the surroundings. That would mean they would have to bear with too many implications. It’s the same thing when it comes to understanding others. He often heard his “friends” claiming that no one could understand him more than he/she did. That would always make him smile. Just because you’ve been hanging around with someone for some time, irrespective of the duration, would that really mean you know him?

Now, he seemed to have lost himself among all these erratic bits of memory. He just kept staring blankly at the ceiling. Those walking around him in white robes seemed to be paying little attention to what he was doing, or to the repetitive hackneyed beeping of machines. That would be futile anyway. He couldn’t really be doing anything. The morphine was meant to take care of that.

They didn’t even notice the small glistening droplets on his cheeks…




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