Wine of Solitude

Recently, I sort of made up my mind to stop being mad and start being sad. NO, I didn’t use the rhyme to impress something I didn’t mean to. Quite contrary, I mean to be sad and so I expressed it that way.It is like one of those religious rituals where you go through repentance by hurting yourself either physically or by pretending sadness. But I am not pretending sadness, I am living it. And I am able to do so because I have effectively blocked out all means of entertainment, shaken off my circle of influence by hook or crook and basically become a hermit of sorts who lives with limited thoughts, movement and emotions.

That explains why the word repentance started sounding right for righting the criminal tempest that I threw around. In that raging state of mind I was embroiled in an emotional tornado, throwing every thing and everyone out of my reach and making them broken. Putting a distance from well meaning people meant that I had to be rude, stubborn and uncaring. It killed many people to know that I was not being the person they had taken a liking to or started trusting. I gave them words that stuck like daggers in their hearts and caused much emotional destruction and reconstruction.

I repent that. Though I repent it but in the process I have accidently sensitised some people to beautiful things like love, care, family and friends. And while they have climbed into that boat, I have off-loaded myself like some deep sea creature who is off to seek a cove of solitude. It is heavy work, being the tornado and retreating back into sea like the dying wind of change. My repentance is private and protected, it is meant to be sad and it is. But the good thing about it is that nobody interferes in it anymore. It is of my own making and I am the only one bearing its burden. That somehow is acceptable to me, unlike my rage which had spilled over and involved everyone in its wake. This, that I feel now, is mine and mine alone; sharing it with someone will be sweet but I am not desperate to do that. It ferments slowly like wine.

Published by EssenceofPresence

The usual human being with an unusual taste for life

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