Memories
'Love, I hope we get old. I hope we can find a way.' 'Love, I hope we can wait. Maybe not now, maybe not today.' 'Love? I guess we were wrong, I guess we changed.' 'I kept holding to our memories too long, doesn't really feel like love any more.' 'The mistakes we had made lets not repeat them again, lets walk our own way confident and strong.'
'Son, make me proud. Let me hold my head high.' 'Son, listen to my words, learn from my mistakes.' 'You stumbled and strayed, now climb back up.' 'Maybe I was wrong, maybe you're not strong.' -Silence-
'You didn't wish me, that's okay you were busy.' 'I told you, I'll be there but she won't.' 'Who are you man, where are you?' 'Don't bother, I'm busy.' -Silence-
'Who am I, where am I?' 'Damn.' -Silence-
'Rahal, it's time we talked.'
My eyes needed time to focus, from what I could make out I could see a distorted reflection of a person through my mirror. My body froze in fear. I could feel my pulse pound, my hands and legs tremble and every nerve in my body tic. I could not move and all I could do was stare with an unblinking eye.
'Who.. who are you?' My voice trembled in fear, I could not get myself to turn around. Was there really someone behind me? Or was my imagination playing a cruel and dark trick on me?
'You really think I'm here to cause you any harm? That is not what I'm here for. My name is Harut and I am an angel!' He wryly smiled and then said, 'Was an angel, a long time ago.'
'What do you want with me? Wha.. why are you here?' At that moment my vision had finally cleared. What I saw through that reflection was so vivid, I began to question whether this person was really a product of my imagination. If not then.. An angel? He stood behind me, on the darker side of the room, his face hidden within the black. I needed to fight this fear, I needed to turn around and confront this person. On the count of three I'll turn around, here goes nothing. One..two..THREE!
I was ready to strike, ready to let out all that frustration I had bottled inside of me for all those long years. 'What!' He was gone. 'Where are you, you crazy psycho!'
'What do you mean where am I, I'm right beside you.' Without seeing my target, I impulsively threw my fists towards the voice to strike him down yet I hit nothing. I looked towards the direction of the voice and finally saw him. I felt tired, exhausted and found it quite difficult to catch my breath yet with all my energy I kept my eyes open to get a good look at the so called angel. Eyes with no pupil, a scar so thick across his whole face, lips as dry as the desert and a complete black cloak that covered everything but his muddied boots. This person could be anything but an angel, his very appearance was frightful.
'Why are you here?' I asked. He leaned against my bathroom wall, took out a cigarette and lit it up. 'You want one?' I declined, 'Trying to quit.' He blew out a cloud of smoke and then asked, 'Tell me something, what's your opinion on free will?'
I also leaned against the opposite wall, watching his every movement, preparing myself for anything. 'Free will is nothing more than a dream, a façade that we believe to be as true as both you and me. Assuming that you are real that is.' The stranger smirked and then asked, 'Why are you caging yourself in this room and getting high on anti-depressants, why aren't you fighting for what you want?'
'No, first you tell me who the hell are you?!' I was beginning to feel irritated with these irrelevant questions with the situation I was in.
'I told you, my name is Harut and I am an angel. What, you didn't hear me the first time?' He carried on smoking, his whole careless behaviour, this whole situation was so unreal. 'That's it!' I ran towards him intending to punch his face as hard as I could. 'AAAARRGGHHH!' My hands went straight through his head and hit the wall behind him! 'WHAT THE HELL MAN!' I exclaimed.
'Told you I was an angel. Now can you stop trying to hit me and talk to me, when I think our conversation is over I'll go.' I stepped a few steps away from him holding on to my wrist. 'I didn't choose to be caged ya' know, you dumb son of a bitch.' I replied while gritting my teeth, I felt so angry at my helplessness yet I continued, 'I have no control over my father's decisions, everything around me just happened. I..' I didn't know why I was telling a stranger about how I felt but I couldn't help myself. I needed to let it all out. 'I just wish that I could make all of this better but I can't! I wish my family would talk to me, or that she wouldn't leave me, or even my friends at least took me as a friend but I can't control what I had done. I can't go back in time and fix this. It's impossible.' I paused and then said, 'I wish I had known then what I know now.' I slowly moved back to the opposite wall that I had leaned on and sat down on the ground.
'Omnia ad opinionem suspensa sunt'
'What the hell does that mean?' I asked.
'Everything depends opinion, in other words, how we interpret the great & important facts of existence depends upon our style of life.' He looked at me and then said, 'the fact is everybody thinks very poorly of you and that your father told you he does not want to see you. However, how you interpreted this fact is that nothing is your fault and external factors got you in the situation you are right now in. So tell me, why don't you get up and try again?' I replied, 'Since the world withholds my triumph from me, I will retreat.'
He grinned at my answer, 'Nicely said but a long time ago I had a friend called Adler, he once told me that individuals that give up or not even try are the result of maternal indulgence.'
I grinned back and replied, 'Yeah right, my parents were never at home most of my life let alone smother me in love.'
'But you were given everything you ever wanted, money-wise, and you never had to work a whole day in your whole life.' I discarded the thought of why this person knew so much about me and carried on listening. 'For the first time in your life Rahal, you were thrown into a lot of negativity and you didn't know how to react hence you drowned. I wouldn't say it was your fault entirely as your style of life was never to stand up and try again as you had everything.'
There was a moment of silence where his words were ringing in my head, I felt as if someone had stabbed me with a dagger of realization.
'But what you do now, the choice that you make now can greatly impact the fact of tomorrow. If you chose to follow your heart and succeed then the fact of tomorrow could be much brighter.' The stranger finally stopped.
'Choice? Choices are never there, if I had to make my situation better then I know what I would have to do. I would have to forget about my dreams and ambitions and follow my father's dreams to make my tomorrow better. There's no choice in that, so how is it my choice when I am left with just one!'
'A few moments ago I offered you a cigarette and you declined saying that you were trying to quit. When did you choose to quit and why?'
'What does that have to do with anything?' I replied. 'Just answer Rahal.' 'Aah, I guess I decided to quit when exercising became a lot more strenuous.' 'So you chose to quit then?'
I realized what he was trying to get at, 'Yes, but that has nothing to do with this situation.'
I glanced at him to see what he would say, he seemed as if he was in a deep thought. He had that same look I had when I would drift in to my most regrettable memories. 'What do you see yourself becoming? What are your ambitions?' He asked.
'I never really thought about that?' I replied. Throughout all these years, not once did I think about who I would want to be. I guess I had not seen enough of the world to make that decision yet. However, I couldn't help feeling this emptiness in me and I never knew how to fill that dark hole up.
The stranger then said, 'A very long time ago, I had a dream to make my father proud of me. I would have done anything to see him smile. Unfortunately, my father would see this world and all it's bloodshed, how could he ever smile when that is all he saw. I used to believe that I had no choice in reaching my ambitions as my father had shunned me out but now I think differently. I decided to atone for my actions, hoping that one day he'll greet me again. That thought makes me strong in my resolve. That is why when one has fallen; one must stand, survive, strive and succeed.' With his cigarette now at an end, so was the conversation. And just how he had appeared out of nowhere, he once again vanished leaving no traces of his existence in my reality.
I thought long and hard on what this so called 'Fallen Angel' had told me and began to write my experience in a journal I had once bought from the Bodleian library gift shop but never once wrote in. After I had concluded my experience, I continued writing until writing became a part of me. The more I wrote, the more pages lied upon that page I had written my experience in. The more I pursued my ambition, the further I forgot about how it all started until one day that memory became, a memory long forgotten.
'Son, make me proud. Let me hold my head high.' 'Son, listen to my words, learn from my mistakes.' 'You stumbled and strayed, now climb back up.' 'Maybe I was wrong, maybe you're not strong.' -Silence-
'You didn't wish me, that's okay you were busy.' 'I told you, I'll be there but she won't.' 'Who are you man, where are you?' 'Don't bother, I'm busy.' -Silence-
'Who am I, where am I?' 'Damn.' -Silence-
A Fallen Angel
‘He came in bringing scents from the past. A face that had changed but a scar so thick I could remember
a memory long forgotten.’
The lessons you learn about life, the mistakes not to make and the right path to walk. They all seem to be meaningless without those memories. Those memories that could either be hidden from others and yourself, or even those memories that you can cherish. When those memories long forgotten are remembered once again, it's as if all those other memories pour down on you until you're drenched. That unstoppable rain with all it's droplets hit the ground and creates an ocean around you. If you chose, you could swim out of that ocean but what happens if you chose to drown? What happens if you cannot swim? 'Rahal, it's time we talked.'
My eyes needed time to focus, from what I could make out I could see a distorted reflection of a person through my mirror. My body froze in fear. I could feel my pulse pound, my hands and legs tremble and every nerve in my body tic. I could not move and all I could do was stare with an unblinking eye.
'Who.. who are you?' My voice trembled in fear, I could not get myself to turn around. Was there really someone behind me? Or was my imagination playing a cruel and dark trick on me?
'You really think I'm here to cause you any harm? That is not what I'm here for. My name is Harut and I am an angel!' He wryly smiled and then said, 'Was an angel, a long time ago.'
'What do you want with me? Wha.. why are you here?' At that moment my vision had finally cleared. What I saw through that reflection was so vivid, I began to question whether this person was really a product of my imagination. If not then.. An angel? He stood behind me, on the darker side of the room, his face hidden within the black. I needed to fight this fear, I needed to turn around and confront this person. On the count of three I'll turn around, here goes nothing. One..two..THREE!
I was ready to strike, ready to let out all that frustration I had bottled inside of me for all those long years. 'What!' He was gone. 'Where are you, you crazy psycho!'
'What do you mean where am I, I'm right beside you.' Without seeing my target, I impulsively threw my fists towards the voice to strike him down yet I hit nothing. I looked towards the direction of the voice and finally saw him. I felt tired, exhausted and found it quite difficult to catch my breath yet with all my energy I kept my eyes open to get a good look at the so called angel. Eyes with no pupil, a scar so thick across his whole face, lips as dry as the desert and a complete black cloak that covered everything but his muddied boots. This person could be anything but an angel, his very appearance was frightful.
'Why are you here?' I asked. He leaned against my bathroom wall, took out a cigarette and lit it up. 'You want one?' I declined, 'Trying to quit.' He blew out a cloud of smoke and then asked, 'Tell me something, what's your opinion on free will?'
I also leaned against the opposite wall, watching his every movement, preparing myself for anything. 'Free will is nothing more than a dream, a façade that we believe to be as true as both you and me. Assuming that you are real that is.' The stranger smirked and then asked, 'Why are you caging yourself in this room and getting high on anti-depressants, why aren't you fighting for what you want?'
'No, first you tell me who the hell are you?!' I was beginning to feel irritated with these irrelevant questions with the situation I was in.
'I told you, my name is Harut and I am an angel. What, you didn't hear me the first time?' He carried on smoking, his whole careless behaviour, this whole situation was so unreal. 'That's it!' I ran towards him intending to punch his face as hard as I could. 'AAAARRGGHHH!' My hands went straight through his head and hit the wall behind him! 'WHAT THE HELL MAN!' I exclaimed.
'Told you I was an angel. Now can you stop trying to hit me and talk to me, when I think our conversation is over I'll go.' I stepped a few steps away from him holding on to my wrist. 'I didn't choose to be caged ya' know, you dumb son of a bitch.' I replied while gritting my teeth, I felt so angry at my helplessness yet I continued, 'I have no control over my father's decisions, everything around me just happened. I..' I didn't know why I was telling a stranger about how I felt but I couldn't help myself. I needed to let it all out. 'I just wish that I could make all of this better but I can't! I wish my family would talk to me, or that she wouldn't leave me, or even my friends at least took me as a friend but I can't control what I had done. I can't go back in time and fix this. It's impossible.' I paused and then said, 'I wish I had known then what I know now.' I slowly moved back to the opposite wall that I had leaned on and sat down on the ground.
'Omnia ad opinionem suspensa sunt'
'What the hell does that mean?' I asked.
'Everything depends opinion, in other words, how we interpret the great & important facts of existence depends upon our style of life.' He looked at me and then said, 'the fact is everybody thinks very poorly of you and that your father told you he does not want to see you. However, how you interpreted this fact is that nothing is your fault and external factors got you in the situation you are right now in. So tell me, why don't you get up and try again?' I replied, 'Since the world withholds my triumph from me, I will retreat.'
He grinned at my answer, 'Nicely said but a long time ago I had a friend called Adler, he once told me that individuals that give up or not even try are the result of maternal indulgence.'
I grinned back and replied, 'Yeah right, my parents were never at home most of my life let alone smother me in love.'
'But you were given everything you ever wanted, money-wise, and you never had to work a whole day in your whole life.' I discarded the thought of why this person knew so much about me and carried on listening. 'For the first time in your life Rahal, you were thrown into a lot of negativity and you didn't know how to react hence you drowned. I wouldn't say it was your fault entirely as your style of life was never to stand up and try again as you had everything.'
There was a moment of silence where his words were ringing in my head, I felt as if someone had stabbed me with a dagger of realization.
'But what you do now, the choice that you make now can greatly impact the fact of tomorrow. If you chose to follow your heart and succeed then the fact of tomorrow could be much brighter.' The stranger finally stopped.
'Choice? Choices are never there, if I had to make my situation better then I know what I would have to do. I would have to forget about my dreams and ambitions and follow my father's dreams to make my tomorrow better. There's no choice in that, so how is it my choice when I am left with just one!'
'A few moments ago I offered you a cigarette and you declined saying that you were trying to quit. When did you choose to quit and why?'
'What does that have to do with anything?' I replied. 'Just answer Rahal.' 'Aah, I guess I decided to quit when exercising became a lot more strenuous.' 'So you chose to quit then?'
I realized what he was trying to get at, 'Yes, but that has nothing to do with this situation.'
I glanced at him to see what he would say, he seemed as if he was in a deep thought. He had that same look I had when I would drift in to my most regrettable memories. 'What do you see yourself becoming? What are your ambitions?' He asked.
'I never really thought about that?' I replied. Throughout all these years, not once did I think about who I would want to be. I guess I had not seen enough of the world to make that decision yet. However, I couldn't help feeling this emptiness in me and I never knew how to fill that dark hole up.
The stranger then said, 'A very long time ago, I had a dream to make my father proud of me. I would have done anything to see him smile. Unfortunately, my father would see this world and all it's bloodshed, how could he ever smile when that is all he saw. I used to believe that I had no choice in reaching my ambitions as my father had shunned me out but now I think differently. I decided to atone for my actions, hoping that one day he'll greet me again. That thought makes me strong in my resolve. That is why when one has fallen; one must stand, survive, strive and succeed.' With his cigarette now at an end, so was the conversation. And just how he had appeared out of nowhere, he once again vanished leaving no traces of his existence in my reality.
I thought long and hard on what this so called 'Fallen Angel' had told me and began to write my experience in a journal I had once bought from the Bodleian library gift shop but never once wrote in. After I had concluded my experience, I continued writing until writing became a part of me. The more I wrote, the more pages lied upon that page I had written my experience in. The more I pursued my ambition, the further I forgot about how it all started until one day that memory became, a memory long forgotten.
The Voice in My Head
I had not seen him again, I had carried on living and slowly cast away that memory. That memory that stood once again in front of me & Elena in that hospital room. Reminding me to 'Stand, Survive, Stride & Succeed'. I acknowledged the message he said to me without having to say anything. Once again he looked at me and wryly smiled and then disappeared leaving me to carry on with my destination.
Little did I know, where I was going, I was going to meet that very person that spoke to me in my mind. I was going to walk past the very person who would save me in all the places I was broken. Before entering my apartment she had walked past me in the corridor but I did not know then. I did not know until she would enter my life in the craziest way I couldn't have even imagined.
Written By,
Jawaad Saleem
No comments:
Post a Comment