On being blue

It was last night that I took a walk. It had been coming. I could it feel it all day that I was going to a take this stroll. Almost as if I had made up my mind that I would be feeling blue. Walking in silence can be a catharsis. A cleansing that can be understood better if you actually felt it rather than reading it off someone else's blog. So there I was last night. Alone. Walking in silence, under a sky painted in shades of black and blue, interspersed with the silver of stars. There was a gentle breeze blowing. It was the perfect night. One on which you'd wish you had someone to talk to. I wished. In the negritude of the night, I could almost see my wish form words before dissipating into the night. Then I remembered a night as perfect as today could also be used for something else. Walking.

It's interesting what a despondent mood can make you feel. More importantly to what it can make you think. So i thought about the Pakistan-India series. I thought about Arsenal's FA Cup semi-final against Blackburn Rovers. I thought about the lack of effort I put in my writing. I thought about calling someone up. Anyone. Most of all, I thought about feelings. And how emotions are humanity's flaws. If only men could unlearn feeling, they would become gods. I was appalled by the skepticism of my own ideas. Of my sudden cynical view about humanity. I reminded myself what I stood for: Idealism. A never ending hope in the goodness of man. Of his ability to love another person, to appreciate the subtleties of beauty and art and his passion for living life. I shook my head silly in order to convince myself. That's when I realized the seriousness of my doubts.

Being recently disillusioned by a hope (a dream, call it whatever), I had a comprehensive thinking-through of my life. Of what I lived for. And of what I wanted to do in life. I realized, that you can believe in something so much that it becomes a part of you. However, it doesn't mean your belief in that something is necessarily correct. You could be believing in the wrong thing for the right reasons but the fact of the matter is, you are still believing in the wrong thing.
Completely mired in the thoughts of my head, I took a deep breath. Silence can do that to you sometimes. It can give you too much to think about. That's the thing about silence. It's like a patient listener. The less he speaks, the more you do.

Life is an act after all. And here I was playing the role of the despondent Ahad. The despondent Ahad walking underneath the dark, passive canopy of the world. The despondent Ahad who'd look up to wonder. About his place in this world. About feeling so small in a world that already makes you feel so small.

I shouldn't brag but I think I have a very special talent. I can smile my way through trouble. This smile is like a fire exit you can keep in your pocket. Wherever you need a getaway, just flash the damn thing. Sure it lets me get away with feelings that I should deal with right away but it is the only thing that has kept me relatively sane. Other people have other ways with dealing with their troubles. I have my smile.

So I smiled yesterday, feeling on my face the cool breeze that blew through the swaying trees scattering its whispers to the quietude of the night. Then I sang "What if God was one of us". I sang the lyrics I knew and hummed the parts I didn't know. I had thought enough for the day. Being blue isn't such a bad thing, i thought. It can be perfect for walking alone late on a beautiful, ethereal night.