Entering the hell was a nightmare and I could not believe the dreams, as horrifying as it was, would turn into absolute reality. Reason was simple and consequence cruel. I could not think of things going right for I took as granted the reward and suffering meant to be costly. When the smoky mist of golden blaze ran through the tumult of blood gushing through the veins and hit the senses; it was, beautiful voice-stammering, cool gaze of surreal eyes and honest scarlet lips of snowy flakes-shaken. I did not find a view to gaze, art to appreciate, consciousness or unconsciousness to dream. Hopes would fade as if the icy drops of water from the mysterious rocks of cave met the sweltering heat tearing apart the molecules, releasing them; as if a legion of ghost horses emerging through unprecedented clouds in a grave.
Knowledge is a strong weapon, I thought. Powerful than the blades and effective than the bravery. Had wisdom sprung like holy water and I had been its saint, heaven would have been a special memento. Regret was cheap at those times. Regret and despair were acquaintances but still the urge of the muscles got me to move, I could not understand why. And there was my spot, frightening yet encouraging.
Reminiscing the past and realization was what I involved in the most. I tried hard. Hard enough to I remember the lessons of the Guru I had not been sincere to, moments in life I had been careless about and I tried to dream walking through the jungles, which beyond my expectation was beautiful and artistic, and through the path never taken, which to my disbelief was adventurous and lively. It was wonderful to know how an ordeal changes the way you view world but how tragic it is that you can make no difference to it. Such was the case because, I was in hell and the world was far away.
The mystery was easy. But, the environment was challenging. The look was indifferent but content varied. Hell pictured a crystal image of distort while society in earth pictured a hidden image of distort. Both were more or less, similar on looks. At one moment environment was heavenly but challenge unfathomable and at another moment challenge simple but environment a hell. That was the difference, between the world and the hell.
When my eyes gazed upon the Demons, with the size of beasts, and their dreadful mien, mind refused to think, reason protested belief. I found it better to do nothing more than to solve the mystery I was asked. I could not even imagine not solving it, for I knew the result awaited the worst. I put my heart into it, something never did before. Memories recollected, ideas conjured. Belief lead to imagination, imagination led to opinion and opinion gifted logic.
I made a slash-and-burn effort to solve my mystery. I started to create meaning out of every logic, every evanescent or even-lasting memories. I was close, incredibly close. I started rejoicing success. But, as said “Success is not easily granted in hell” and in no time I realized it. Hurdles seem to gain number, obstacles seemed to grow like trees watered with magic potion. Time was limited. It drove away and I remembered there like a helpless child. I was hopeless again. Regret ruled over me again. I started wishing I was not in hell. I was experiencing outcomes of a wasted life. Hell was the result. If only I had………………
(Shovit has exams this week. Tomorrow it’s Physics. Shovit is afraid and entering the exam hall, for him, is like entering hell.)
