Somewhere Without a White Heart

In between the tantrums of the mind and the regular want to pass the midnight floating amongst clouds, certain calling came towards my heart tearing me away from the vacant vagaries. Somehow I would always found myself strutting on the roads of the central market, smoking cigarettes and trying to find a good book to read. It was ever struck moment repeating itself, trying to put me in a wayward point that I would never miss, like figuring out the best possible way to keep me buzzed without that extra high that I thought I deserved. Nonetheless, I kept on making senseless meanings intact by drawing them on the paper. It was too hard to let go of. Rather than a task to just pass off as menial, it found a whole new meaning in itself, a jargon building together to outlast the damned course that I was passing my time in.

I seem to have found the perfect company which never failed to disappoint me. It was either the wings of the fairy that enchanted me to go to the bottom of the bottle or the troubled youth of making merry a pitiless chance to fulfil the course of its existence. Either way, I could have barged into any place and found my solace in the music and the empty shallowness of the random conversations. The bass of music was stacked with alcohol and the treble were with the distraction of senses. I needed to keep myself straight without overthinking of what could have been and what could have been done. The relevant truth found its meaning in the cognisance of the drowning feeling and the dissonance of the heart and the mind.

I tried keeping myself busy the way I came to know as best – where the heart and mind can come to an agreement till further eviction of hard feelings can be done. It was plain intoxication keeping harmony together, like musical notes lying in wait of that virtuous moment to harp a chord. Truth be spoken, I came to live the restless moments with ease as if other than to pass through them without judging their basic instincts I can escape their torment. The trouble was that I had a outspoken hope and throwing it out of the window, I came to relish the damned moments as if they were mine, as if they were to be my virtue.




© Prateek Joshi and WordPress, 2017

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