I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling. The ceiling becomes an object of interest. At least I try to make it one. Soon I lose interest in it. I start staring at the ceiling fan. That gets boring too. I pick my cell phone up and start fiddling with it. No updates or messages. Even the ones that I had received a few hours back hurt me more than give me any kind of happiness.
I get up and walk around the room trying to find something to do. I open the cupboard twice and close it. I walk to the book shelf and pick up a random book. A book that I would have bought ages back but never made time to read. I open the first page and quickly lose interest. My mind is only interested in one thing. Like how the most unhealthy things on earth are the most satisfying like liquor or cigarettes. Your mind tends to seek something which cannot be attained or should not be attained. It doesn’t understand the concept of pain. Yeah, I know what you people are thinking. Why am I not referring to the heart? The reason is that I do not want to refer to it.
Ah! A cigarette! I lit up one and started blowing puffs of smoke towards the fan and watched it demolish them instantly. Entertaining! Only for a few minutes! Now what to do? I looked under the bed to find something that can keep me engaged for some time. Fortunately, I find a ping-pong ball. Delighted, I start bouncing it against the wall across the bed. Tik-tak..Tik-tak..Tik-Tak..crazy! Not fortunate after all! This is boring! I crush the ball under my feet and enjoy its brutal demise.
Why am I even feeling sad in the first place? Why am I feeling helpless? I light another cigarette and start walking around in circles. It was like I had no place for a walk on this earth and the only place left was my little bedroom. Few minutes later, my legs give in and I jump back on to the bed.
Why am I like this? I was never like this! I always had something to do. I always kept myself occupied. I fall sick and feel down more often. What is the reason? Thinking over all this crap for the umpteenth time helped me in passing a few more minutes.
Even thinking over what has happened or is going to happen turns me mad. I get headaches. How can anything end up such a way? Hey! Idea is not to brood over what has happened. I switch the fan off and start my hunt for an old magazine or book that is thin and long enough for me to use as a hand fan. Why this insanity? For time pass. I get back onto the bed. One hand behind my head and legs crossed, I start waving myself with the temporary hand fan, a TOPGEAR magazine.
Hand hurting, I turn the fan back on.
I open my laptop and start writing this post. Initially I think over what to write. But why not write what you did just some time back? Actually let me just write it instead of thinking too much. I know this post will make no sense but I feel like putting it down. My heart hurts (yeah I can refer to it now) a little lesser while I write these words. But it still does hurt.
It will hurt for days to come……