Thirst, this word usually reminds us of water, rain, desert, dry, monsoon awaited ground or various forms of feelings that find resemblance with peace that comes after a long period of anticipation. Any feeling that quenches this longing. Any feeling which we wait for, and the moment it personifies itself. A feeling between something that your mind has been running after, and the day when your heart finally feels what your mind has been rehearsing for over and over for so long. The wait is always painful, and the moment of fulfillment, the ultimate joy.
But what if, the feeling that gives you joy is actually pain?
Why is the beauty of happiness alone, appreciated? Can’t anyone see the beauty in pain? How beautiful are those tears that flow without the fear of being stopped midway. Why is the twisting, turning, wrangling feeling within the heart not waited for? Fortunate are those who can cry, it feels like a decade that I haven’t been fortunate enough to feel it. Somehow that pain in my chest makes me feel I am alive. This inability makes me feel like I got Midas to touch me, but instead of gold, he turned me into a stone. Yes, I thirst but I do not thirst for happiness that makes my heart pound against my ribs, but I thirst for the grief that makes my heart sink to deep bottoms, with no anchor to rescue. I want to measure the extremes of my feelings. Yes, I thirst. I thirst for the time when I can let go this imposter of me, walking in high stilettos of hollow self-awareness. I want to walk barefoot and feel every pebble that makes me, every pebble that breaks me as I trek through life. I want to climb a high mountain, a very high mountain. I want to reach the peak, not to hug myself with a sense of achievement or fill my lungs with fresh air, but to feel lonely. There is solace in pain, there is peace in distortion and not many can feel it, in fact we pray for it to pass. Sit down, hold back and live the pain, don’t wish for it to pass. Pain contains within itself so much more than happiness does.
Today, I don’t long for happiness, I long for tears! Tears that used to flow, on listening to even the background score of a Karan Johar movie, or the view of a cat purring, or children on the signal selling flowers, beggars outside the temple or simply someone else crying. These tears have now become salty glaciers hidden somewhere behind my eyes, glaciers that refuse to melt. Yes I thirst, and I thirst for the rain only my eyes can shower, to quench the barren land of my heart.