This town

When the day collapses into million broken glasses just to reflect the last remaining sun. This empty town calls its strangers to the streets and fills them with noises and shuddering delights. For this place is lonely. The calm wind has left it a long time ago. The memory has now given way to blank imaginations, tired imaginations of the events which question the existence of its past. There is no particular recollection, the lovers are gone, so does the long carefree walks along the sea shore.

These strangers, they all look the same. The lust for nothingness and the eyes washed away in the dreams of shame. They don’t trust each other. They don’t see each other. Living their lives under the mask of borrowed identities, soon, they perish away; but leaving behind the mask, for some another stranger on the trail. Their collections, their broken dreams, left behind, buried, under millions of tin roofs hitting hard with the dismal rain. These noises excite them, they dance on the songs which they don’t understand, among their own kind, in a gathering of loneliness. Once in a while, they question their existence, as they try to look behind their borrowed masks. But these strangers look more strange, as they try to recollect themselves in the mirrors which, long ago, have stopped to reflect them, even in the day. Defeated by time, crawling their way through this commonness, they exist till the memory allows them to stay. For them, there is no tomorrow, there is just today.

Tomorrow, a word, this town has stopped to believe in. As the inhabitants don’t keep a promise for another day. They love and forget, as they are burdened with the growing character of their false-faces which keeps them under a fear of objectivity. They don’t try to act differently, love differently, or even die differently. These strangers make this town, these masks define this town. Stuck in the sand of time, this town has become immortal with the corroding thoughts of its unspoken pasts, with no one to listen, but only the strange noises of its borrowed masks.


14 Comments Add yours

  1. kimelenecarr says:

    “… they exist till the memory allows them to stay.” Beautiful line. If it’s a memory that keeps them there in such a sad and lonely town then they simply have to forget.

    1. Deepak Rawat says:

      Thanks. Yes, but it is them who have made this town miserable. The have no identity, they are just living like a stranger and now the town has forgotten about its own past.

      1. kimelenecarr says:

        So very triste… but one of the best writings I’ve read

      2. Deepak Rawat says:

        Thanks for always appreciating my work. It means a lot 🙂

  2. “Once in a while, they question their existence, as they try to look behind their borrowed masks.” beautiful lines with deep meaning.

    1. Deepak Rawat says:

      Thanks. Yes, I had in mind to write about the people and their masks, eventually, I realized that everyone of us put a mask. So, are we the mask or the person behind it? Maybe the mirror will not recognize us when we take away that mask. Maybe the mask is out identity.
      Thanks for visiting:)

      1. Surprizingly I have written something similar few days ago, it’s almost finished and I would be posting soon. It’s very similar to what you have written, about the true identity of people, difference in what they really are and what they pretend to be, the mask they wear hiding their true self.

      2. Deepak Rawat says:

        Thats great. I would love to read your post and to know your views about the masks. Yes, thats true, it is convenient to hide behind something. At times we feel ashamed to reveal ourselves. The society likes to see everyone to be the same, so everyone becomes stranger.

      3. Yeah, stay tuned…would be publishing soon😊

  3. Pooja says:

    Beautiful…👌👌 you have a great sense of humor about depth of life …in this post your thoughts reflects the harsh reality of society . The way you used borrowed masks concept is beautiful , nowdays only masked people are accepted in this society not true identities .☺ keep writing like this ☺

    1. Deepak Rawat says:

      Thanks Pooja:)
      Yes, in this town people are borrowing identities. They are under a burden of some perception in which they tend to hide themselves to become someone else, eventually, everyone is alike- so the commonness.
      Maybe, people are afraid of revealing themselves, maybe they have a greed for acceptance. So, it becomes important for them to become a part of the society (as you mentioned is now becoming a harsh reality) even though they become strangers to each other.

      Thank you again for your words, and yes I will continue writing 🙂
      I have a habit of visiting the blogs of those who comment on my posts, but it seems (I am assuming though) you don’t have a blog. So, thanks for paying a visit and keep on visiting 🙂

  4. kimelenecarr says:

    Such a tragedy… but it really compels one to reflect… are our own identities to the world borrowed faces of persons who have gone before or exist in our ‘circle’? Is our “greed for acceptance” the motivational force behind what we delude ourselves to be connections? And then those ‘connections’ aren’t really so, but are really adopted identities that give us that feeling of belonging?… Am I making any sense?

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