My Paradox

"It's strange how this kind of solitude is so different from the one back there. You'd think the opposite.
Solitude in security or security in solitude?"

It is but natural to assume a craving of alone-time when one is in a crazily crowded place as a college hostel. Weirdly enough, when the first opportunity presented itself to me, I lost 'it' completely. The very walls of my refuge seemed as if they'd close in on me. Desperately, I searched for means to distract myself- looking for something to do, anyone to talk to..
My patience ran out by evening with me unlocking the flat and rushing to the canteen for the sight of my fellow sapiens.

And here I am today, exactly one week later in the place I grew up. Or lets say, grew up cursing the feeling of loneliness that lingers in the air here. But therein lies the paradox. When here, I'm a recluse. A happy recluse. Kind of a hermit, if you please. I crave for the empty room, deserted terrace even though there's nothing to run from.

It is said that a depraved man fears nothing worse than his won company.
But I am not that person. I am happily introvert-ed, reclusive and a loner. All of these, but most comfortably performed when at home.

I'm puzzled at this show of hypocrisy by my own mind. I wonder what happened last September.

But home is where the heart is.

Purpose

Being an atheist has serious drawbacks.
As an undecided young person, the only thing you can rely on are hopes of a rosy future. The things that give you strength and nourishment - parents, friends, love, dreams: these are always there in the backdrop, omnipresent life-support systems. These are the things you believe in, derive faith and hope from.
But with this comes the realization of being so vincible and vulnerable. None of these things would last forever : what would happen to my faith then? Where do I place it? Where will I get the strength to move on from?
If I had a god, my righteous steps would be lured to a heaven in waiting. There would be light at the end of the tunnel.
But the path of logic has a gripping finality to it. There will be no escape from it, no fairyland to find solace in.
Take away a rational man's dreams, inspiration, love and you'll be left with the madness of a religous fanatic who's just discovered the non-existence of god.
What is life without purpose?

Recipe for Silence

I've been silent for too long now. Thoughts make their way into my head only to twirl around and dissolve somewhere in the abyss of whatever already existed. Un-impression-ed. It's not as if the activity around me is mundane or colorless, but I fail to extract anything concrete from it. It's like I'm in the middle ground of something, in between the two towers that would read 'past' and 'future'. This is like hibernation, a long, long wait to find out what my life will be about once I'm done from here. I've made decisions for a lifetime, I've cast the dice, taken my risks. I know all the options and all the possibilities. Now it's only wait. At the end of every day, every act, my mind goes into re-set mode again. I know it's useless to form any opinions, to draw any conclusions, to sketch out any plans right now. It won't make any difference till I've reached the end of this line. All that I can do is just watch the drama unfold, for the good or the bad. Aggression is not one of my virtues. In anticipation of the year to come. Helpless anticipation.