The silenced lore

Carapace

As I dazed at the paper like the beloved she is, remembering my memories of her's like the questions I must answer. The time in the background played melodies with the beats of my heart as the beads of sweat on my forehead ambushed by thee deep murmur of calculations and errors that were escaping through my thoughts. In a meditation that I was in wizened by the fact that I can't do it, still through my breaths I have searched the booklet like the treasure that was to be found. Every question, every mark, every second counted and laid the staircase into lowering myself. Every question I answered etched itself into the OMR (answer sheet) and like the race I was in, from the observer that I always was became the part of maniac masses mugging their heads up.

Deciding upon the strategy I have chosen, I humbly withdrew from the aspect of doing everything. Just doing what was necessary was an easy option but deep down it is not the right one to do. But the fact is that one always fights between what is right and what is easy. The fool that I am chose the other. The wild ring of bell remarked the end of exam. The paper was discussed in the later part of day and for my utter belief I just ended up as the best in the second section. Natalie had managed to stay in the top section if not the best but still in the top section.

I slowly stepped into the top section to collect my belongings and books to migrate to the second section. Natalie and I exchanged looks for the first time we are going to be in separate classrooms. We spoke with each other for sometime  with the defeat and dismay in mine and the strange triumph she had over me in hers. After all she did a great job and I secretly admired her and even openly congratulated her on her hard work she has put in.

 I am still jealous though. Not for her achievement but for her capacity to work. Only if I had her work ethic. Not that I don't work due to my laziness or something. If you really meet me I am the most exuberant person you an find. My thoughts are my only friend and foe I can rely on. In fact that I am speaking to YOU, an imaginary friend seeing my world as a spectator is because of this very exuberance. This doesn't let me last my attention for a long time if the things get boring or in routine. The ache to do something more, see something more expand to some thing more in every experience is tormenting my soul. What is that "something more". What is it?

Trying to divert myself through diving into the thoughts of ecstasy I wandered to the worlds I'd never be in. Inventing and re inventing the scenarios I will be in and I wouldn't be in. To the worlds in the cloud 9 just to escape the sight of the ground and the realities I have to accept. I tuned into melodies of my own world in the window seat I was able to achieve in the bus. I am stoned without a substance and high on my own lows. 

 I do not know if I am weird or something deep down I can't feel an  emotion. Neither happiness, nor sadness anything at all. Maybe after all this time my brain probably has numbed my senses to keep me safe. With the pretext of sorrow upon my face I revealed my defeat in front of my parents. They yelled at me for a while. My legs gave out sores for standing and listening the exact same thing for the next 4 to 5 hours. Nothing much really, just multiple ways of saying out loud that my existence is a waste. In different modulated voices and multiple facial expressions throwing of some things and shifts of blame..

Dear, I  am smart I could have totally avoided this but I stood there still like a rock without any emotion just in awe. Tuning into their thoughts, their predictions and expectations. I scoffed at their agony of my failure. Nothing much really affected me except for the fact I was standing for the whole time kinda hungry. But just stared relentlessly into the murky brown eyes of my dad. Every word he uttered and every minute that passed, his love, his agony, his passion for my well being, his protectiveness and the feeling that he had to see me as the best none of it really moved the evil heart of mine.

May be I am a psychopath. To be honest it is me who is bad and inhumane from the begging. My ways of blending in and the act of normality I put up has made me learn and respond to the human emotions around me. Sometimes I am scared at the fact that I am not scared. In the cloud 9 which I am still in I had this existence whizzing as my dad kept giving me the equerries of the life and it's ways.I had taken what it should be taken into the cold heart of mine and apologized him for the trouble I have caused him.

He hugged me in the end with all the wonderful love he had and repentance for scolding his little daughter. I hugged him back after all  the four hours of insane carapace (the outer shell of a tortoise or turtle which it escapes in times of danger) I was in. I hugged him back without any emotion, without any feeling just in the shell where I was in thinking of my journey into the second section I am going to step in the next day.