TSB 6 Of the Road

Previous post in the series TSB 5 Days Going On

While my work started at around 5.30 or 6.0 pm, I ensured that I didn't lounge around in the campus. At the slightest indication of the end of day, I  headed right to my temple of solace, which in this case was an actual temple.

Walking down that particular road was always painful. But it didn't matter anymore, as to me, I didn't matter anymore.
Neither to others, nor to anyone in particular. I had never felt a sense of purposelessness and satisfaction at the same time. One was the thought of having found an unknown strength in life to carry on and the other was to just get it over-with. Finish the damn test, exam, punishment or whatever that was going on. Turbulence outside, Weakness inside and Faith in between.

The roads were once upon a time a challenge, a mystery and a intriguing part of a lovestruck romeo not-so-discreetly following his object of affection along the road, ducking here and there to avoid being seen, lame attempt as it was. PW would dart into a stationary store, and I would dart into whatever was on my side.Though it feels silly in retrospect, and given a chance I might never want to relive those days, but my mind was too turbulent to admit to anything, lest it came true at that point in the present.

But now it was just a road, a road that took me from the college to a bunker for my mind, and to sooth doubts and a broken ego. The Glass shop no longer showed me her beautiful reflection, and the stationary shop owner no longer recognized my unshaven face. The coffee in the "canteen restaurant" no longer was a turning point and the many people in the road remained just that. Unknown strangers. The Sunshine was no longer warm, and the winds no longer comforting.

At that point in time I felt more comfortable with the elephants and the sculptures etched out in the massive walls of the beautiful temple, and the light of the oil lamps had more warmth than the closest of friends. Ha!!! Friends was a dreaded thought. The cool marble allowed me to cry in peace, silent tears for mistakes not known, for forgiveness and guidance to solve unknown crimes. And no one would stare. No one would bother. They all had their crosses to bear, or prayers to avoid those crosses.

For all the visits that I made, however I never asked for revenge. Neither did I have the courage, nor the strength to go with it. In fact, it never even came into my mind, for such was my conviction that I was wrong, that a person would have to face my situation when he did something terrible, even though I had no idea of whether it was terrible or not. I was merely convinced, by friends and foes, though there was no distinction between the two anymore.

Those walks are long gone now, and it has been years since, however the thoughts and wounds still hurt on lonely nights.

Pre Reads in the series
The Story Book 1
The Story Book 2

Peace
Madan