The biggest thing that haunts us often is not ghosts or
horror stories. Neither it’s darkness in the attics of our houses nor the fear
of the Devil. The thing that we are often most afraid of is the fear of
unknown. The clock ticks for 86400 times every day, yet we can never expect the
next move to be thrown in by destiny. We fear everyday how our acts will impact
our future and who will enter our lives to annihilate it or make it better.
Some philosophers have often said that the biggest fear lurks in the deepest corners of our minds. I never believed in this philosophy and often adopted the all-optimist outlook to eradicate all my fears. Yet these fears come back again and again, the more I try to shoo them away from the superfluous nest they are trying to build in my mind. It was easy at first to suppress the darkness in mind with some illumination but with days the flickers of light has gone and I sit in the darkest corners.
To allow myself to admit this and write about it comes to me as a surprise after days of self-loathing and feeling dead. People close to me would not understand anything about why I am writing this. Maybe I am so good at restraining emotional outbursts and like to carry all the baggage troubling me by myself. Perhaps when I am myself finding it quite strange the phenomena that is affecting me right now that makes me say all this, I wonder how would my near ones take it.
I didn’t have a break-up neither did I fail my exams. I will offer it as a clarification to all those people reading out this who generally jump into generic conclusions from a melancholic write-up. I am writing this because I am not in terms with myself. I am writing this because I am afraid that every day I end up doing so many wrongs and I let it happen. I am writing this because I fear one day will come when I would have created a Frankenstein out of my silly mind. I am writing this because I am not utilising the opportunities and end up defeated with me. Perhaps I have become my biggest enemy who poses all hindrances like self-doubt, ego, self loathing and anger in the path of ingenuity and happiness.
Shakespeare said ‘Men can be masters of their fate’ in the
epic political tragedy ‘Julius Caesar’. But what if the master is disillusioned
with self and letting the course of fate go awry? What if the fate gets hold of
the future because I am too busy doubting self to take charge? What if the
fortunate accidents turn into fateful mishaps because I am happy to let the
sand of the desert of self-control slip off from my hands? What if I end up in
a dark remote room with my dismal thoughts because I feared that sublime
thoughts will cast a bright and strong sunshine which will blind my eyes?
These questions
trouble me now and then and I end up surrendering to the pessimist version of
myself. Often curtains of dramas like to play a game or visit a relative closes
at terrible notes for me. Why it happens to me? This is a question I ask myself
every time the answer to which I already know, yet I fail to implement the
solutions because I am too afraid to do so.
