Skies and Beyond.

Written By: Midhat Amna.

I stare into the sky. I can feel the ciliary muscles relax and my suspensory ligaments tighten as my eyes penetrate their way into the extremities.And then comes the furthest boundary,beyond which my eyes fail to grasp any further vision. The Sun continues fading into the golden sky,while the white beads of cotton nestle atop the atmosphere.The view is interrupted as a flock of nightingales weave across the sky,waltzing and gliding,the sound of their wings beating simultaneously reaches my ears in the form of a melody.Watching them soar in the air,envy engulfs me.

I can feel my heart fluttering…and for a moment,everything goes blank.All I could imagine is my body floating in this very sky,the breeze rushing over my face,tickling my bare skin.I can almost feel two delicate wings fixed to my shoulders instead of these bunch of creaky,in-efficacious bones attached to my scapula.My mind starts traveling back in time.I see a little girl,a pink cape draping over her back.She raises her arm and positions it in the air,almost as perfectly as Christopher Reeve.She takes in a deep breath and jumps high in the air,excepts of course,landing on the mattress double quick.She swears at the laws of gravity,yet never gives up.”Gravity can’t always win,” I mutter these words as a pang of familiarity grasps me.

I lay there as more memories race through my mind. That one time I attempted to break the plane window just with the intention of feeling the -60 C temperature with the tip of my pinky.The day I almost jumped off the roof,certain that a flying carpet would arrive in time.Today,when I reflect back on these memories,it hits me hard…I’m no longer the person I was before.The person I was supposed to become.Lying here,I could literally feel my innocence slipping away,yet again.Guilt,regret and misery clawing me from the inside.And then the strangest sensation overwhelms me.Sharp thorns seem to be digging deep inside my body,cleaving me to the bare soil.I make no effort to relieve myself.It doesn’t hurt anyway.I’m numb,I realize.Powerless.I lay there still,screaming silence. My hair,more like octopus tentacles,freely brush past my face.It’s funny,I think to myself,how a single sight can rekindle so many feelings,so many memories.How I can feel so much,all at the same time.I have this “quality” of feeling everything so very deeply.Whether it’s a blessing or a curse,I do not know yet.

It continues to get dark and brisk.The whistling wind and my wild thoughts make the perfect rhythm.I realize I have grown so strangely comfortable with my state of trance.Is it that I’ve accepted the change? The new me? Miserable me? Me? I continue with my perplexed mind state.I can see darkness prevailed among all the realms.Is it too soon to swallow it? I look around myself.No one.Is it always going to be this way? A voice roars from within.”Yes!” I must rid myself of self deception that lies within my cores,I realize,I must never hope.I sometimes wish I could take this deceitful word far from this world,and well,go missing with it.I have realized how fond I have grown of loneliness.How comfortable reclusion is becoming,though in a very strange way.I am starting to discover myself.Apprehension of one-self is the most important thing that could happen to us.It comes in handy at times like these.And if I’m not wrong…though as much as I hope I am,I have discovered the three words that define me.Wretched.Demented.Defeated.

Three has always been a very important number to me.How three words can change our entire lives,for better or for worse.How three steps can take us to a whole new world.The first step to risk taking,the second to delusion,and the third step,or rather a gateway to the land of self-destruction,or post self-destruction.Not two,but three faces that everyone possesses. The typical three chances.The three stages of life,although some of us skip stage 2. Sublimation? Knowing who I finally am,I wish to peek in further.But I guess I’m like the horizon,we have our boundaries.And if I try to push past my limits,I wont explode,instead I will simply cease to exist.

I am reminded of how I wake up every day,reminded of a million things all at the same time.And how each day,I drag myself to face the piercing heat of this desert world.I am confused,am I the alien or is this world alien to me? I keep distracting myself with this rather very hurtful,self-questioning.I am reminded how every day,I try to pick up pieces of me,trying to glue them back.And when I finally manage to get them together,I acknowledge there is still a piece missing.A piece I will never be returned.

I am like the shore at night.The serene twilight above the raging destructive ocean.I am the bitter wind on a typical December night.I radiate anything but light.Darkness resides deep within me.I’m a mystery no Sherlock can solve,I’m an unsolved case put far from reach.I’m the melody no instrument-no voice,can produce.I am so me.I let this sink in,and I get up.The sky is now dark,the Sun has long set.I free myself of these thorns,as ironic as that sounds.It leaves no marks anyhow.That’s what hurts most of all.The world is blind to your scars,especially scars they’ve caused.Anyhow,I realize I have a Science test the next day.Angle of incidence=sin i/sin r.Total internal reflection? Oh screw it.I make my way back to the world,wearing the ornament I’ve worn forever,a smile. :)