schizophrenia....
“Oh it is a very fatal disease”….. “ Sometimes there are no early symptoms…!”… “ My uncle died on schizophrenia…” Mam….. Schizophrenic people are mad people basically…..right?”…. No!… not exactly!!…see you shouldn’t see it that way!!!….but mam…its one and the same…”… and soon after the bell followed!!!…Instinctively the students got up…and began to leave the class… teacher un finished! Conversation unleaded…. Meaning… misunderstood which is far worse than not being understood at all…
Margo who was always the last bencher…as always got up at the last…left…after every one else had…
Margo…a quite and reticent fellow….remained in his world of silence…and barely reminded the world of his existence…. Dark, shinny and observant eyes hidden rather skilfully behind heavy weight, high power glasses…a kind face… mislead by Expressionlessness… a perfectly carved out soul buried underneath a hefty and obnoxious body…an enterprising and imaginative mind veiled by obscurity….
In a world where every other thing is relative….his silence seemed to be the only thing that was absolute….and undeterred!..
It seemed as if no pain, no grief, no joy…remorse or shock could stir in him…. What lingered only…were the sounds of his ambiguous pathos…. Unspoken no doubt but felt never the less…. Far from the façade of this world of flamboyance…in some remote and undiscovered corner existed his heart…its beats…understated and submissive, just like the boy himself…
With his heavy steps…Margo walked the length of the school corridor…and walked little more all the way to the bus stop…10 good minutes…
Waited for a while for the bus he usually takes, climbed it….and went away.
The bus was moderately crowded!… fairly enough for Margo to manage a seat…
Margo sat by the window…as the bus rolled on….
But today he saw something really strange…. Wherever he looked….outside the window or inside…the sight was unavoidable…
Wherever he looked. .he saw faces.. lost and dreamy…
Every one seemed to be out on a purpose… purposes which made them appear busy.. and occupied….
But their frowning and busy looking faces could not hide their eyes…
Eyes which when seen carefully revealed all….
Eyes which seemed to see what could be seen…yet believed in an alternate reality… the eyes…along with the faces…were lost, dreamy and absent mind….
people from all walks, people of all types, places and cultures…beautiful and ugly.. rich and poor…well read or illiterate…. Bore within them a common stigma.. a dream of an undivided heaven.. a belief in an existence quite different from their own…
Margo thought to himself… “how are we… different from the ones who are diseased with schizophrenia? ….why aren’t we called the diseased as well?”….. schizophrenia is a state when the human mind deems what isn’t real as reality… “but that is something we all do…each one of us…in ways known best to ourselves…”…. “Then why this divide between sanity and insanity…”…
“ Hope”…..he said aloud to himself unintentionally startling the man sitting next to him…
“yes…hope is the word which the common man uses to hide his schizophrenia…”.. His obsessive belief in an alterior and better reality…attains acceptance when misquoted into words like “hope”…
This world is indeed an eerie place…and the cons of men lie too deep and too perfect to be corrected…
The bus halted abruptly…and all what it contained uncontrollably jerked forward… and so did Margo… from his thoughts…
His mind remained idle for a while…and then thoughts flowed in again….
“Kubla khan”….by Samuel Taylor coleridge…fascinating poem.. Margo thought to himself.. like the ethereal world of a perfect dreamer…painted in colours unknown and then one by one….he remembered the stories that he had read.. the poems, the plays.. the comedies, the tragedies… the great wars of troy…. The mythical lords of religion…. The mystical travels of Ulysses…. The Iliad, the travels of the magi…. Joan of arc, the Nostradamus code…the genesis, the theories of all…
Everything illusionary…and vivid…yet unanimously acclaimed to be masterpieces….
“Hmmmmm”…. Margo sighed and smiled to himself…
“Fiction…he said to himself…is the word used by the men good at their words to hide their insanity… their schizophrenic tales are read as their creative benevolence.
“ Yes it is indeed an eerie world and the cons of men lie too deep and perfect to be corrected.” and that is why when learned men with carefully parted hair and ironed clothes speak prooflessly it becomes a hypothesis and later a theory, they call it science…. while men too naïve to know the games of pretensions are called lunatics… and it is largely true and finds evidences wherein the glorified theories of Marxism….proposed by Karl Marx.. Find no realistic implications and are completely economically fallible. Yet governments have and are following them…nations are run with those principles.. such are the ways of the world….such is reality: the greatest illusionist of all times…..
Margo got down from the bus in his usual spot… the twilight had set in… it submerges every good and evil in its profound aura of oblivion… and Margo too disappears in them…. Never to be remembered because he together with them remain eternally forgotten……
Margo who was always the last bencher…as always got up at the last…left…after every one else had…
Margo…a quite and reticent fellow….remained in his world of silence…and barely reminded the world of his existence…. Dark, shinny and observant eyes hidden rather skilfully behind heavy weight, high power glasses…a kind face… mislead by Expressionlessness… a perfectly carved out soul buried underneath a hefty and obnoxious body…an enterprising and imaginative mind veiled by obscurity….
In a world where every other thing is relative….his silence seemed to be the only thing that was absolute….and undeterred!..
It seemed as if no pain, no grief, no joy…remorse or shock could stir in him…. What lingered only…were the sounds of his ambiguous pathos…. Unspoken no doubt but felt never the less…. Far from the façade of this world of flamboyance…in some remote and undiscovered corner existed his heart…its beats…understated and submissive, just like the boy himself…
With his heavy steps…Margo walked the length of the school corridor…and walked little more all the way to the bus stop…10 good minutes…
Waited for a while for the bus he usually takes, climbed it….and went away.
The bus was moderately crowded!… fairly enough for Margo to manage a seat…
Margo sat by the window…as the bus rolled on….
But today he saw something really strange…. Wherever he looked….outside the window or inside…the sight was unavoidable…
Wherever he looked. .he saw faces.. lost and dreamy…
Every one seemed to be out on a purpose… purposes which made them appear busy.. and occupied….
But their frowning and busy looking faces could not hide their eyes…
Eyes which when seen carefully revealed all….
Eyes which seemed to see what could be seen…yet believed in an alternate reality… the eyes…along with the faces…were lost, dreamy and absent mind….
people from all walks, people of all types, places and cultures…beautiful and ugly.. rich and poor…well read or illiterate…. Bore within them a common stigma.. a dream of an undivided heaven.. a belief in an existence quite different from their own…
Margo thought to himself… “how are we… different from the ones who are diseased with schizophrenia? ….why aren’t we called the diseased as well?”….. schizophrenia is a state when the human mind deems what isn’t real as reality… “but that is something we all do…each one of us…in ways known best to ourselves…”…. “Then why this divide between sanity and insanity…”…
“ Hope”…..he said aloud to himself unintentionally startling the man sitting next to him…
“yes…hope is the word which the common man uses to hide his schizophrenia…”.. His obsessive belief in an alterior and better reality…attains acceptance when misquoted into words like “hope”…
This world is indeed an eerie place…and the cons of men lie too deep and too perfect to be corrected…
The bus halted abruptly…and all what it contained uncontrollably jerked forward… and so did Margo… from his thoughts…
His mind remained idle for a while…and then thoughts flowed in again….
“Kubla khan”….by Samuel Taylor coleridge…fascinating poem.. Margo thought to himself.. like the ethereal world of a perfect dreamer…painted in colours unknown and then one by one….he remembered the stories that he had read.. the poems, the plays.. the comedies, the tragedies… the great wars of troy…. The mythical lords of religion…. The mystical travels of Ulysses…. The Iliad, the travels of the magi…. Joan of arc, the Nostradamus code…the genesis, the theories of all…
Everything illusionary…and vivid…yet unanimously acclaimed to be masterpieces….
“Hmmmmm”…. Margo sighed and smiled to himself…
“Fiction…he said to himself…is the word used by the men good at their words to hide their insanity… their schizophrenic tales are read as their creative benevolence.
“ Yes it is indeed an eerie world and the cons of men lie too deep and perfect to be corrected.” and that is why when learned men with carefully parted hair and ironed clothes speak prooflessly it becomes a hypothesis and later a theory, they call it science…. while men too naïve to know the games of pretensions are called lunatics… and it is largely true and finds evidences wherein the glorified theories of Marxism….proposed by Karl Marx.. Find no realistic implications and are completely economically fallible. Yet governments have and are following them…nations are run with those principles.. such are the ways of the world….such is reality: the greatest illusionist of all times…..
Margo got down from the bus in his usual spot… the twilight had set in… it submerges every good and evil in its profound aura of oblivion… and Margo too disappears in them…. Never to be remembered because he together with them remain eternally forgotten……
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the world has its own way my friend..
they define...
and we comply.
supposedly that is...