Strange Little Figures

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In that dull, almost depressing Campus metro station, sitting on the cold floor against the wall, she was staring at me with her deep, questioning eyes trying to figure me out. Wondering what goes through my head everyday, how I am able to resist the same doubts as her, how I am able to be happy ?



S?he wanted to find out so that she would know that she is not wrong, so that she could tell herself that her doubts are real. I know this because I do the same or atleast used to. I used to stare at people, sometimes right through them, with my dark brown eyes. Some would get enthralled, others uncomfortable. But the past few months I haven't been able to look inside anyone, even myself, which is why a strange sort of distance has come up between me and the rest of the world. Past few months I have not been able to understand or empathize with people. I still know how to react though, I have no trouble imitating the emotion, but the past few months I have not been able to look at anyone and see a person, who is real, who is just like me, who feels all the same emotions as I do, who feels shame, anger, joy just like I do, who is vulnerable and probably also blind just like I am.



It doesn't mean I have mean unhappy the past few months. Infact I have been in a state of blissful ignorance. If I don't see people as humans, as beings who feel I don't need to care about about how they feel either. I can be rude, inconsiderate,mean and yet avoid all the pains and tribulations of guilt. I can go on seeking all the things I lust for - money, fame, the elite social circle, the trophy girl and not care about what path I take or who I end up hurting. Its so easy to live when you don't see the larger picture, when all you care about is your little bubble, when you don't have to worry about the happiness of those strange little figures who move around you making curious faces and shedding salty water from their eyes. Its so easy to live when your conscience is sleeping.



She is still staring at me with those eyes. I had been staring back at her so far with a smug arrogant look in an attempt to demean her, to tell her that I don't have the same doubts as her. But then those eyes, as they stare into the hollow expanse of my soul, they get to me. Suddenly I am enthralled and uncomfortable at the same time because I know that if she, her close confidante who had been sitting next to her, the large crowd around us, all of which had somehow escaped my attention so far - if all of them are not humans, if they dont have a soul, if they are only objects then in the larger scheme of things ... I am the same. For that one moment I couldn't escape the realization that her doubts were infact real, for that one moment I couldn't help but empathize with her. For that one moment that ignorant bliss got lost in the brightness of the truth which I could see in her eyes. For that one moment I could see why she is not happy and how petty the sadistic pleasure of my life are.



The train rushed into the station and came to a screeching halt. Distracted finally by the noise I felt as if I just woke up from a dream. Struggling our way through the flood of people, which poured out on us as the gates of the train opened, we rushed to grab our seats. In that frenzy the moment, the realization got lost somewhere into the bottom of the pile of thoughts which now filled my mind the same way the large crowd of people which I had barely notice earlier now filled the small compartments of the train fumbling and falling over each other. Strange little figures making curious faces and shedding salty water from their eyes.





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