Amongst the many little things lying scattered around, valuable or precious, thrash or invaluable, there lay a phone, a mobile phone. The phone was switched on an audio clip. The voice was instantly recognizable. It was Kashiv’s.
–The following is from the audio clip found on Kashiv’s phone–
And, I don’t know how will my voice sound. I am more nervous about listening to it myself than others, well, this is just a page of my journal when I am too lazy to look around the room for a pen and my diary. And the beauty of doing this is, you can not edit or rectify. Imagine a world full of books that were written just in the sentences that came to your mind, raw and daring and pure.
That is scary.
This is what they say when they say it.
I think I am going no further with this audio recording thing. I wont even take a second to stop the ticking recording timer. I am intimidated. I don’t want them to know what I feel, I rather can’t. If I tell them, I better tell them what they wish to hear. Edit it and serve it. The joy of editing. Saying it even without knowing they understand, transforming it, disguising it, covering it. Your purpose solved. You’ve written a code, and you don’t share the password to decoding. Its still a secret inside your heart, I ask, was the space in your heart filled for you to code it? I am going through this. I write because somewhere I want to be read. I talk and speak because somewhere I want to be listened. But am I bold and daring and defiant enough for doing it the way I want to do it?
“I write”, she said, “to unburden myself. I talk to myself to unburden. I don’t want anyone to read it, I don’t want anyone to listen to me and I can not practice forgetfulness. What is wrong in this”. I said, “nothing, Just don’t edit when you write to unburden yourself, don’t strike out the sentences, don’t be a frown under the smile, keep the mask off, be yourself.” she said, ” what if someone reads it, hears it?”. I asked, “why the fear?” She said, “you don’t want anyone to know how you feel?”. I said, “but you want everyone to understand you.”
I got no reply. The conversation just ended. She left. She left as if to say I don’t understand it, I am not rational. And then I came up with a solution, tear away the pages after writing it. That is what I am doing to do, delete the audio after I am done. I can hear her voice in my head, “this is murdering a part of you. Its Blasphemy. what you write is sacred, godly, when it comes out pure from the heart, unaffected and undisguised, like a new born baby. Its cruel to kill it.”
A circle has no starting and ending point, but it has a center, which holds it together. I don’t know whether I will understand any of these. Whether I will understand, the center, the God or the fear when we know there is God.
I want God to talk to others.
There are some ruffling sounds, some sounds going dead, some voices being raised, unsure, confused and confident, some sounds linger and some sounds of silence can be heard and the audio dies.
Image courtesy http://www.google.com
Title courtesy song “be yourself” by “Audioslave”