‘Life’, it is such a small word to utter out of this tiny
mouth. The fight between the teeth and tongue gives a start to this word. The on
looking lips also try to prove their ability and thus gives off the
incomplete F bomb. Does the word life mean like it is made?
I am not a philosopher nor am I a ‘someone’ whom people would
seek for suggestions if they have problems in life. I am not someone to give
some precise ideas on what to do next to save yourself.
I am just me, a person, a silent soul inside this violent
body, still desperately trying to understand the meaning of life. Actually
meaning will be a meager term, let's say ‘truth’.
I will introduce myself as a small kid, who is still
trying to figure out what she is exactly doing. Yes, I am not such small kid
too. But I feel like it. And I can give hundreds of proofs to that.
Actually worrying about the life is not what I am here
for, or maybe, it is the main thing to do as long as I am here on this earth. I
am no God. So, I don't know the truth about anything……
Sometimes I feel like I am a stranger for myself and it
is weird. It is weird how I wake up every morning and look at my face in the
mirror realizing I reside in this amazing body. It is weird how I get so
inspired by someone in the movie and it is weird how I realize I am nothing in
front of them. It is weird how I forget how better or worse I am and I resort to
paintings or music in a meantime.
I live, being so many things in a day. I am a rock star
in my imagination while playing my brother's guitar in secret. I become a
beauty, when I try my every makeup on my box, though I don’t have much of them.
I sometimes bury my soul inside a random track and try to ignore the chatters
around me. Yes, I am not myself sometimes.
I have heard a sentence somewhere, "life is not
inside the four walls of a house, life is out there in the world and travelling
is how you learn what life is"
I would say, “I don’t know how much truth this line
speaks.” Fortunately or unfortunately, I am an introvert and living inside the
four corners that has been my life since 22 years. Yes, these corners know me
better than anyone, maybe more than myself. I have laughed and cried and slept
and smiled inside these four walls. I don’t know I enjoy it or not, maybe I do.
Living outside with the people has made me lose my temper so many times. Living
outside my favorite den had made me feel like I don’t exist. I try to see this
world, but I don’t see the beauty everywhere.
I see myself vanishing amidst the crowd, like a dust and getting blown
away into the vacuum.
People often say to me, “You are shy and invisible
because you never go out and see the life.” Yes, I never go out, but please I still
do have a life, a life of Silence. At
least I don’t have to burst into tears of emotions every time I get ignored by people;
my four walls are always protecting me from unnecessary emotions. I don’t have
to talk with people; some people just piss me off and make me feel like I am so
bad. No, I don’t always want that feeling. I don’t know who I am, but am I a
coward to live inside a box? They say, living inside a box would give you
nothing, but I have earned so many feelings here. It is slower, living inside a
confined space makes you grow slow. People out there learn fast and easy---Inside
the box it is slow, it feels like learning something would take an eternity,
but it’s not being dead. You just learn different things.
Anyone will think that I am a psycho, writing about life,
who even hasn’t seen a fraction about the world, yes, I feel the same. How can
our thoughts match when you live outside the box and know so much and when I am
confined inside four walls and know nothing? I feel like it's all illusion how
you take everything. Life is a mere perception.
The small screen of my PC, and my TV screen are my windows
to the world. And the times when the load shedding torture of my country beats
me down, I read the walls, about the history, about what happened in today's
class, and about what happened the day when I got hurt by people who even don’t
remember me. Living inside the box has given me the memories that I don’t
really want to remember and the memories I may forget. Reading the walls in my
room has been a hobby of mine. I read the same walls trying to create something
new every time while I sit near my drafting table. Being an architect student I
know that you will never go far if you don't see the architecture around the
world but being inside these amazing walls, I have flown to the places I have
never been creating new things from something I have heard from my teachers and
from the memories of the videos and pictures I browsed in my laptop. Yes,
living like this is a totally different experience compared to others and I
feel the difference so deeply.
There are the times, when I actually enjoy being out of
my house, the box I live in, when I get to forget it. I love it so much and yet
I think of leaving it forever. But I am just a small kid living in an adult
body. I am too much dependent over my own feelings and I am governed by my own
feelings. My box has been my guard and a lover, and this box is all that I have
created out of my life be it from my designs or in the real life. Architecture,
it is not so simple word they say, I won't judge if it is simple or not. It is
just another form of life, and I feel there are fractions of ‘life’ in the word
‘life’. Yes, I know nothing about life, but I know something, about this box. This
box is not a prison, and it is also not a freedom. It is just another fraction
of life.
The nature is home of the living organisms and the home
of people too. And we create our own boxes out of the nature, we always live in
the box, I live in the box like you but I hate the boxes around me sometimes. I
love the nature around me, and sometimes think of designing something that
needs no home but only nature. But it is not actually my type, is it? The people
don’t love the idea of getting back to nature. The people make new boxes and
leave it and explore new nature around, explore new life and again make another
box there. People create boxes and call it architecture.
I don’t remember when I began to love the nature, but I
remember myself loving my box. I remember the time when I peeked outside of my
box to see the green field at the behind my house. I felt the gentle wind flowing
and gently striking against each paddy plant and then transferring that
heavenly smell to my box. God, how much I loved it! And I thought that I will
one day buy all these fields and let those paddy fields remain wild, just as it
is, for I knew someone out there will one day add another box in that place. It
gave me shivers and sadness to imagine that place being covered by the piece of
natural things modified to be artificial. Years passed and there are no paddy
fields no more. The sunlight still enters to my box, for the fields don’t have
tall staggering boxes on them, but it has a banquet and a small cottage factory
and a parking area. I am just happy how there are no boxes, a box like mine. I
want my box to be alone in the nature. Yes I love my box so much, my box too stands
on some paddy field, call me selfish, but I want my box to be alone in the lap
of the nature.
There is a line in architecture, build in scrap and look
into nature. Yes, I want to see that nature free from boxes like mine, but that
doesn’t mean I don’t love my box, I love it more maybe, that’s why I can never
leave it, and I love the nature and thus I want my box in the nature and me inside
my box.
My box has given me so much to remember, my loneliness,
my happiness, love, hate, betrayal, honesty and above all that it has made me
feel myself. It has always reflected me. If I am to know the truth of the world
today, I would really love to know I, but I am also afraid because it’s scary,
the idea of what would I do with that truth. I am not some philosopher, I am
not some lover of mankind, I am myself, and being myself is the only virtue I
see in myself, though I am not myself sometimes. Because I live with fearful
intrusive thoughts and the obsessions and compulsions has made me stranger to
myself sometimes.
Being you most of the times makes things easier. But
sometimes, you don’t know who u are, what are you actually doing. Yes, it’s
really confusing, and living in a box has given me the solution. In the outside
world, people live in so many colors, the world is much colorful outside, and I
feel myself being blown away there, I have no identity outside. All the people
do outside is copy. People copy their ideal people and feel proud to say that
they are her, or him. No, I don’t really like that idea. I don’t like the people
I like. I don’t like them because I don’t want to copy them. I love the people
whom I can never copy, who are bad in the eyes of other people. I see the
freedom in them and I find myself inside of them. Yes, my box has taught me
this. And I know it is not even a fraction of the vast word, ‘life’.
I really don’t like how my feelings change. In my box, I
have been sad because of not being able to see the world. And in the same time,
my feelings change and I am happy being just like the way I am. I laugh like a
mad girl who got a beautiful dress in her birthday party, discovering this new ecstasy
of feeling about myself. Yes, I become happy because of it, but at the same
time I become sad for my feelings are never stable. And it is one of the many
things that piss me off. My box had seen me being like this, felt me like this,
and in a meantime given me a lesson that not everything is constant, even in
your small box. Yes, it is small, but your feelings are grand in there and the
grander things also change. I am sad for a moment, but in an instant people see
me laughing my heart out and joking around. Yes, I change, and that really is
something I never understood.
Why should I love my box Just because it has given me so
many things? But I hate it sometimes. It has been so close to me most of the
time, I hate it for I can't live without it and I hate it for I love it so much
that I can't hate it. I love it, my friends call me over to meet and go watch a
movie. I don’t feel like going out with them not because I don’t like hanging
out with them. But I am a type of person who gets wild if I enjoy too much and
I kinda like my wild outgoing type. But I just can't go with that wild feeling.
It’s like I am bound to live inside my box, and I hate my box at the very same
time and kiss it even more out of love, because I can't hate it. I just can’t
hate it.
My cousins and friends would always talk about going to places
and eating and spending time in new places and restaurants with their other friends.
I sometimes envy them for I am never like them. I am too embarrassed to be me
out in the world, I feel like a dust invisible and indifferent but still hovering
in the air. I am an introvert who acts like an extrovert describing to the
world about itself. I don’t know if the most of the words I speak are true. But
yes, I sure do know one thing, and that feeling oneself inside oneself is the
greater ecstasy I have felt inside my life, and truly speaking I never felt it
out in this amazing world. But my box of love and pain, reflects myself back to
me. And therefore I love it.
My description of life is short. And it is finding a
happy version of myself and exploring myself.
