Living In Oblivion

45

Clouds often adorn a somber hue, their shades of gray whispering secrets to those who care to listen. Even if they are white, they still chatter with the shades of grey. It is a struggle to discern whether the darkness emerge from the abundance of black or the hope of white. Yet, we often cast blame solely upon the blackness. It is easier that way, a convenient escape from reality.

But as time passes, the lines between illusion and truth blur, ensnaring us in an unending cycle of guilt. It never retraces its path, only grow with each passing moment, fueled by an unyielding and venomous passion.

Passion- that is raw. Passion- that has venom.

Passion- that never ends.

The pain refuses to subside, the wounds never truly healing, and we find ourselves walking in circles along the path of time. Thorns prick, needles pierce, yet life continues its relentless march, It goes on - humming to the tunes of destiny and questioning the fate's scrutiny.

Amidst her contemplations, Avanti was abruptly snapped back to reality by a knock on her door. She turned to the side, pulling the blanket over her head and closing her eyes, feigning sleep. She heard the sound of silent footsteps approaching before the lights went off, and the footsteps faded away. She resisted the temptation to open her eyes, finding solace in the darkness—an illusion, perhaps, but a safer place to hide from reality. Her sanctuary was now at risk.

For a fleeting moment, she felt like a caged bird, its wings clipped every time it attempted to soar. It seemed as though the wind was not meant to carry her forward, but to scatter autumn leaves on the ground and the branches to shake without bound. So whenever she considered an escape, she was reminded that the cage was her only home.

But wasn't she a stubborn bird? She asked herself, with a charming smile. There were always options, albeit with their own drawbacks. If not this, then something else. But there were options- always. And she refused to tremble in the face of unseasonal rain.

Balancing her hazy thoughts with self-motivational speeches, she eventually succumbed to sleep.

Divit paused the movie, stretching his arms and removing his headphones. Cracking his neck, he stood up and stretched once more. He found himself in the hall, his gaze instinctively drawn to the clock on the wall—it was nearly evening. His eyes then wandered to her closed door. She had been sleeping for hours. Letting out a loud yawn, he closed his laptop, rubbed his eyes, and made his way to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, he retrieved a bottle of water. However, his attention was captured by the uncovered dough and unfinished food. He recalled the excitement in her eyes for the brunch party, but now the situation had changed. After Bhatnagar left, she silently retreated to her room without saying a word to him. Though it wasn't a major issue for him to resolve, he knew her all too well. Instead of offering solutions, he decided to give her space.

Placing the bottle back in the fridge, he quietly covered the dough with a plate and the pressure cooker with its lid. He cleaned the counter as best he could, then headed to his room for a quick nap.

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The night shimmered with a thousand stars, casting a radiant glow of hope upon the world. As a cool breeze caressed Avanti's pale skin, a shiver ran through her, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Unlike the clear sky above, her mind was clouded with conflicting thoughts, engaged in a battle for dominance.

Her shawl rested carelessly on the floor, as Avanti gazed out at the balcony, embracing the refreshing air that granted her a moment of respite. Retrieving a single cigarette from the packet in her hand, she smirked as she read the warning label. It had been months since she last smoked, but lately, she found herself succumbing to the allure of a cigarette whenever life tested her strength. It was as if the rings of smoke would carry her worries away into the night.