Lost in deep retrospection, there comes one fraction of a moment when you blink. Suddenly the object of your immovable and unabsorbed stare becomes clear. Like a lens settling upon a focal point, you see everything. Everything that should be, is right there in front of you. So immotile and lifeless. Even with their immotile identity, their existence doesn't complement yours anymore. They are there. Just there. Like the whole world. The whole scenery is there. But they don't look at you. They don't even know you're here. Standing silently as if in mourning. Is that why it is so unnervingly quiet here? There has got to be some sound, right? The crickets? The white noise? My breath? The intensity of this quietude sinks to the depths like a scream that reaches beyond. A restlessness fills the air floating amidst an unaware complacence of life. An abrupt impulse surges within to destroy everything that is so helplessly immotile and lifeless. At least that will create a sound, right? Just so that I don't feel those inaudible screams in my head anymore. But now they see me. All of them. They turn their heads and notice me. Was it all it took? Just a meaningless destruction? Was it all I needed? Acknowledgement to my existence as a part of this world? And then I blink again. They don't see me because of the noise I made. It’s just a glance of pity. For they don't even see each other. I am as immotile and lifeless as they are. We all just stand here devoid of any motion. Endlessly waiting for the screaming quietude to drive some insanity towards the destruction of this paused moment. My salvation. So, I wait. Immotile and lifeless...

26th September, 2010

30 something, trans* graphic designer from Delhi with many a things to be said, though much ado 'bout nothing