Options! An overused and misconstrued word if there was one. People say, what you choose makes you who you are. That everyone has a choice. There are always two choices, one which is right and the other which is wrong. It depends on what we choose. Much like Robert Frost’s poem ” The Road Not Taken, ” people believe there can be only two-pronged and undergrowth ; the more obscure ones.
I laughed. I saw back and laughed at these poor, deluded fools with the midst of ignorance perpetually hovering about them and clouding their sight; those who see the world in black and white. But, in some warped and twisted way, I envy them. It must be nice to be so blissfully ignorant, sheltered in their bubble and untouched by elusive reality. Or perhaps that just stems from seeing the world in the shades of grey for as long as I can remember ; never knowing what it feels like to be sure, even if you are unequivocally wrong. Strange musing, these!
It’s ironic that this is what is going on in my mind considering the fact that for the first time in my woefully and thankfully short life, I am sure utterly and irrevocably sure as I stand on the parapet of my terrace, fourteen stories high. A caustic half smile twist my face, as I dwell upon the dramatic irony of the moment. Almost pathetically and uncharacteristically dramatic, really; I chastised myself. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what a person on the opposite terrace might observe ; a guy in black t-shirt and jeans, standing calm and composed an inch away from hurtling to his death. Perhaps our eyes would meet ; panic stuck eyes meeting my tranquil, yet sardonic ones; United with a stranger in a moment I’m quite sure would haunt them for the rest of their life. Anyhow, I’m digressing! So yes!! This is not your typical suicide scene with the paroxysms of gut wrenching sobs and adolescents anguish over unrequited ” love ” or whatever it is normal people kill themselves for.
If I must put it in words, well, the world is quite simply not ma ideal place for me to live in; not that I believe in Utopian worlds, far from it. It just doesn’t appeal to me, it’s much too mundane and insipid for my liking. It goes through the same. So yes, putting it rather crudely, that’s it. It’s not entirely rational, I’m aware , thank you very much. But living like that isn’t living at all and so, I don’t have much of a choice, really. Thus is exactly what made me so sure about my decision.
I feel the loose stones and cement crumbs that are rough to touch, and feel the miniscule shreds of glasses under my feet. Probably a smashed beer bottle left behind by the rowdy and raucous teenage boys in my building. The sky is dark. No, it’s black. Pitch black, almost like ink spilt on velvet, it looks quite tangible. Pity there aren’t any stars. Enough!!! I prepare myself to be rid of this world, and then I noticed a change. The sky was beginning to lighten, the darkness fading away into the hints of light. The sun was rising. I’ve never watched a sunrise before. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to do so. I could spare a few minutes.
I couldn’t see the sun at first. Only the darkness disappearing slowly, almost graciously welcoming the warmth. It is a cold night after all. Shafts of light suddenly streaked thru like little cornet leaving behind their tails embedded in the night sky. A hint of rose infused the sky that was slowly turning purple. The dark violet reminded me if a scab on a wound. The scabbed violet morphed into the raw pink of shiny wound and then slowly to an amethyst – like color that quite took my breath away. Almost cathartic. Colors were the one that entranced me. And the sky was right now a cornucopia of colors.
Playful purples chased away shy violet while boisterous Crimsons and tangerines grew bolder and more self assured, dominating over the serene blues and greens while the inky darkness receded to the edges of the sky, allowing the colors to take the centre stage. All of a sudden, the sun languidly rose above the horizon and the entire activity stopped. The whole sky, for a moment, paused, revealing in the golden glow that pervaded every nook and cranny of its endless being. The aureate glow dazzled me, filled my senses and, for some strange reason, made me uncertain. The whole world basked in the aura of the pulsating sun, it seemed as though in that moment, the planets were perfectly aligned and in the harmony.
Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. That transcended moment hung like a moment suspended in eternal yet mercurial time, at once both seemingly endless and as fleeting as a moment’s thought. What beauty was this, so undeserved by this harsh, grey world? It was, in every sense of the word, an epiphany, it existed. Beauty existed, I turned around, slowly climbed down, and walked away.
By Prerna Daga