The Confines of Four Walls and a Roof

Within the confines of four walls and a roof, we create a sweet spot there for ourselves. That sweet spot makes us the most comfortable in this world. This comfort is not just about having the riches of world class furniture, soft cushions, air conditioners, or aesthetic lights in the room. Rather it is about the feeling of staying true to yourself and contented with whatever you have. This is the spot where you are free, and with your freedom you think, you plan, you work or relax and get ready for the next day.

The confines of four walls and a roof comes in different forms and make. A person’s monetary capacity and societal laws determine the form and make of this confinement. Monetary capacity because a person can afford and build his confinement according to how merrier their bank accounts are. Societal laws determine this too because there are few people put behind the bars. Everyone needs confinement of a room. In that room the person finds a sweet spot and slowly falls in love with it unknowingly. Even the homeless on streets are not deprived of this love. They have found their love below a bridge, under large precast drainage pipes, or inside a desolated confiscated car.

But is this love going to last forever? Yes, the love is going to last forever because if it’s “love” then by default it is going to last till the last breath is away. The places change, people at those places change, but the love one carries in their heart stays. May be for the sake of memoirs of the gone by days, or for the discovery of life experienced while staying at those places, this love finds a permanent place in our hearts. Every once in a while, like a cold gushing wind, this old love sinks taciturnly into your present confinement and tries to mingle with your newly found love.  

I see this charming young guy, dressed in an ironed and shiny uniform of a seven-star hotel, that he is wearing off from the work today. It seems he has been on his toes throughout the day, and barely got a chance to sit and unstrain his breath. He is waiting for his work shift to get over, and rush back to his chawl. Because his love for the sweet spot in his chawl room is calling him with open arms to have a cup of masala tea in the evening. Once he is back, he will be true to himself and free. He will be able to enjoy his tea to the fullest in his confinement.

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The Open Window...

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On closing my eyes, I fill thick brooded meshes in my lungs with air… I hold it for a while, pushing it a little further, until I can hold it no more. Freshness sprouting outside my open window descends deep down into me… Perhaps, its spring; I can see through the open window, trees ladened with new leaves and buds; birds chirruping, squeaking around in happy-playful mood. Jolly squirrel nests on the tree too, jumping from branch to branch. Sometime they stop by at the open window, staring at my partially lit face.

Can I be ever free? I have been captive under chains of my psychotic mind. Along every perspectived dimension in my mind, there jolts clumsy curiosity; the curiosity to arrive at a clue to freedom, a way to cut bars in the open window, to dissolve the tiny autumn within me and dilute it into the sprawling spring outside.

Tools made out of elemental love, I have used enough. Adamant chains tied around my torso don’t listen to them. In the environs of spooky silent nights, my imaginary friend visits me. He preaches to carve my tools out from hatred, assuring the success on blood soiled chains. Morally fed soul of mine ravages at this juncture; it still trusts in love, although yet to recover from past injuries bought in the love’s conspiracy.

The sunlight is warm, grazing over green trees outside the open window. At a certain time of the day, the Sun bathes my dark pestered room, throwing a shine of hope on my face. It’s the time when my friend in my shadow visits me. He shares his thoughts with me, conjuring me about life; What is life?

As the Sun rises up in the sky, friend in my shadow recedes, and he is away when its all dark again. He left me a note yesterday… When the Sun was bathing me in a spotlight of hope today at its time, I read the note:

“Life is beautiful outside your open window. Free yourself from the chains that never physically existed. Free yourself from the captivity laid by chains of your diverse mind. I am waiting, outside your open window….                                                  -Anshul"

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