The day my feelings died.

I took my small wooden boat and reached to the shore. Why does life have to be this complicated? Why should I have to think this much before taking any action. The sea seemed very violent from the shore itself. But more violent was my soul today. I saw lightening in the night sky and knew that the weather was lagging behind my soul, for inside, it was raining already...

I untied the boat from the hook. How easy it is to untie a physical object. If only we could untie our feelings so easily... The wind was blowing hard. The tattered sail started to acknowledge the storm. I wanted to go as far from the land as possible. My land, of course was in the sea tonight.

Sea is such a beautiful thing in night. The curvy waves reminded me of her. The moon that reflected on her forehead once was still there; only this time it was on the entire sea. The small waves made a million of moons in themselves, and I saw the sea full of silver. How could gold have such power that it could corrode our souls? May be that's the reason why my father had once said... "Gold, though itself can not be corroded, but nevertheless, has a corrosive character..."

Sea, when calm; and sea when violent: they are two things. Vastly different. Tonight I could hear it roaring in my ears. Could the sea hear my heart's roar tonight? Why was I getting a feeling that the thunderstorm was nothing but the echo of my restlessness? Somehow this untamed sea seemed to have more fidelity. Than the untamed her. I felt something cold on my back. And then my forehead. I looked up. Millions of small gray dots of chilled waterdrops were coming towards me. As if they wanted to tell me that I was not alone. I kept looking up. They welcomed me, and I embraced them, by allowing them the grace of reaching through my body, into my soul. The way I had once allowed her to do the same.

The boat kept on moving towards the sea. Some kind of low pressure had developed somewhere in the middle and the air from all the surrounding areas was being sucked into it, taking with itself my small boat. I could have fought the winds that day. But for whom?

Now I could hear the storm roaring before me. The restless waves, the wind and the rain finally had reached my level of stir. The time had come.

I eyed the sea one last time. My real lover.
The sky one last time. My real creator.
The land one last time. My real devastator.

All I had wanted ever was to love her. What did I get in return? Nonreciprocating feelings. I wanted to give her every happiness of my life, only to find out that every small happiness of mine fell a mile short for even qualifying as a smile for her. I wanted to see her smile, but longings didn't have the gold enough to deserve those.
The world, as it seemed, had no place for feelings.

But feelings were all I had. And if the world didn't need feelings, how was I to survive here?

And then, it all happened so slowly, as if I allowed it to happen my way. One last time. The wind, slowly tore apart the sail. The boat jerked heavily and turned sideways. The lustful sea water reached for my body. Hungry. I took a deep breath. I knew this was going to be my last one. I eyed the sea. Beautiful, blue, moonlit sea. Then darkness surrounded me. The ears received strange noises. The mind began to think slow. Slower... The limbs were not jerking anyways. Now they stopped trembling.

My violent storm had calmed.
Outside the storm was still at its prime. It had lagged behind my soul this time too.

Alok K.
July 24, 2010