One Last Effort

There is so much going on right now. I tip-toe silently trying to slide pass through all the energy inside. A moment ago I too was standing amidst all the chatter and hysterics. But very soon like I forbode, it started to consume me.
The song, the laugh, the drink, the people and their heated words uttered so fast I can barely make any sense of it. I can hear everything around me but I cannot understand a thing. I glance around in that crowd, where could I possibly go? What do I do?

I’m overwhelmed. I don’t do well in crowds and meaningless conversations. I’ve always loved the quiet, always preferred it. Always been fascinated with things I shouldn’t be fascinated with. I look around again, anxious.  A group erupts in laughter, a stout robust man quaffs down his entire drink and quizzically inquires for more.
A woman subtly adjusts the straps of her dress.
A man nervously strokes his tie, this is a deal he cannot miss.
The waiter stands patiently, waiting for them to finish their drinks, so that he may be done for the day.
The singer sings in all her melody, while no one is listening and she’s too drunk to notice.
I gulp in anticipation though I do not know of what.

I see a door straight down the hallway, festooned with ribbons and glitter. I open the door quietly, just enough for me to slip through; and I run. I run as fast as I can storming past the hallway, making conversations pause and a couple of heads follow my trail.

I reach a garden and my toes are bruised but I don’t feel any pain. The quiet is comforting and the cold seems like a friend. I lean against a wall and slam on the ground, breathing heavily and staring into the night. My hair is a travesty and sweat seeps through my make-up.

By now I only hear soft music playing somewhere far. Far enough to not be intelligible and I sit there barefoot, my head resting against the wall and every deep breath pushing hot air through the fog.
I see small yellow fairy-lights carefully hung over the bushes. I’ve always loved lights, you know. But not the superfluous, exaggerated, colorful ones. But the quiet, yellow and warm ones.

I pick myself up and make my way to the pool. The calm, unperturbed surface speaks to me. Glaring at the water I find peace. I’m enticed by how deep it might be. So deep that they cannot ever find me. So deep that the world fails to follow my trail and all that consumes me washes away inside it.
So I jump.

I jump in the water and let go. Bubbles of air escape my body as I close my eyes and allow myself to sink. As low as I can. As deep as the waters may allow me.
I think of everything that overwhelmes me, everything that makes me anxious and I feel it leave my body.
Everything that makes me hold on to things, everything that makes me think, it’s slowly going away as the water fills my body and it swells and crashes the bottom.

And in my final moments I see those lights. Though they don’t appear little anymore. The water makes them glow like blazing balls of fire, spreading their warm glow over me, maybe trying one last time to bring me comfort. In one last effort, I smile and bid them farewell.

Until I start floating on the surface.

17 thoughts on “One Last Effort

  1. I had no clue that you would end it this way. Initially, I thought this would be about Christmas, or maybe the year that is fading. 
    Then, upon reading further, I locked this as your attempt to render a new, modern day, twisted rendition of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ – I waited, with baited breath, to see you, find and fall down your rabbit-hole.
    But that never happened!
    I should have seen this coming. The words ‘anxiety’ and ‘overwhelmed’ were all looming over everywhere. 
    But I missed it. I missed what was staring right at my face! I missed it because I never imagined you would do this. 
    You jumped! You let go?
    And I’m glad you did.
    Honestly, this is my favourite piece out of your star-stuffed blog. I love how beautifully it is written. I love how it led me to all the places that you went. I love how I could jump when you did. 
    There was just so much going on at the moment I picked up to read this. Now, I only remember myself floating, like you did. 

    Liked by 2 people

    • Dear you who wrote this wondrous comment,
      I’ve been reading it again and again and my awe keeps increasing every time.
      No one in my two years of blogging has made me feel this happy for my own work.
      Because it is one thing to read someone’s work and it is completely different to live it. And when a writer finds his readers doing the latter, he knows his work has paid off.

      Thank you for honoring this blog with that beautiful comment. Thank you for understanding what I secretly wanted to imply from this.
      Thank you.



  2. Beautiful Aakansha, simply beautiful. I read it once, then I lit a couple tiny little tea-candles and set them beside the computer and read your piece again. It was even better the second time. You truly are an up-and-coming literary genius. You have a wonderful New Year and keep up the hard work. The world needs more literary genius’.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Mr. David, how do I ever thank you? How do you manage to say words that are so precisely framed to make me glad that there are souls like you on this wondrous planet, making it better and beautiful. And you while sitting in a different country tapping these words manage to make me intensely happy while those right next to me fail to do so.

      You really make me proud of what I do and it’s people like your benevolent self who lift my spirits when they choose to be down.
      Thank you so much for such genuinely uplifting words. You have the greatest year possible.
      Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I am not a writer so don’t really know how to weave words that could express my feelings but would like you to know my heartbeat was at least 170 by the end of it. Keep up the good work. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • I can’t seem to decide between being happy to give you such realistic feelings from a piece of writing or to be worried about your health. Haha

      But thank you so much. Take care of yourself though!


What are your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s