The Joker

When I think of myself, my being, I think of a complicated, berserk and dull being. The other night, I sat quietly in my balcony, staring at stars, dark and loomy night and asked myself, am I sick or am I suffering from being myself. But how can one suffer from being oneslef? Afterall, haven't we all learnt this so far.

The night progresses and so does my weird, grief struck thoughts. Being a kid, I realize, was so much full of happiness, full of freedom and full of clay oven intellect. Time and wisdom has made us mortal, complex and worldly. Even our minds denies to accept free and honest thoughts and compel us to move beyond being a child, it says, let's go out and play some dirty games, let's join hands and mix with these jokers on the road. We all have been made so dependant, so stubborn that we fail to listen to our hearts. Or shall I say, the voisterous noises around us has suppressed our wishes. People, ordinary men and women, the smell of being ordinary all close to us, prohibit us to think, to reason, to learn and unlearn and to even wish for something we so passionately want. So, what does one do? Become a joker?

With each passing day, I am fighting with myself, hurdling for creativity, to show my imagination, to paint my canvas with my thoughts, to go back and get my wishlist again. That doesn't seem to happen, merely because time demands something else. Time demands success, time demands being ordinary and become a joker. The world respects capitalism and so does your closed ones. Eventually, we all fall in line and pack our bags in search of success, commercial success. As a result, the abnormal self meets failure, trying to supercede the normal. But it doesn't help, really. Or does it? It's time to introspect.

Time flies and we all think at every halt. We all try to do and chart out things which we are passionate about. That has taken a back seat and the reason is quite obvious. In the race of getting close to capitalism, afterall it leads the way, haven't we all become jokers?