aud1out

A fight was in order and we were to arrive at a destination. Now, this was a fight I was too involved in, despite the fact that I portrayed otherwise. People you keep dear to your heart always hold the key to trigger your emotions wildly. So we’re on the way. We’re inside a rickshaw. One thing that I’ve always wanted more than anything is for someone to understand my perspective on things. And thus, I’m often the person who sees things from the other person’s perspective. Secretly wishing that someday, someone, would do the same for me. 

Fight goes on. But this time, I’m too tired to see things that way. Same patterns repeating itself. My hope that things will change seems almost non-existent. It’s like cycles of existential crime. Sometimes, you feel like you wouldn’t feel certain things if you weren’t alive. I wanted to feel dead. Not be dead, but feel dead. There’s a difference. But obviously, I couldn’t. And then the compensating thought arose. All I wanted was to be not involved, I wanted to be the autowala. As bizarre as it sounded, I wanted that. To be a third party observer with absolutely no personal interest in the matter whatsoever. But then I saw him peak through the side mirror and harbor an expression that tasted like distasteful curiosity. My unpleasant reality started to impinge on my consciousness and then this huge epiphany hit me and that was the fact that this was no fight! I had no chance. Because no matter what I said or did, I would still be wrong. I would still be different. Because people can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves.