Control

Don’t tell him

Don’t tell him

I write about you.

Or else he would make my pupils large

And my canines trough

Don’t tell him.

I want to hide you.

Or else he would stand in my mirror stark

And I will disappear too.

Don’t tell him.

I want to kill you.

Or else he would grow into my heart,

Where he was born too.

Fear

I used to admire the idea of fear, in a very Gothic sense. To peer at castle like looking ruins of electricity department building, to imagine someone sitting at a high tree, peering at all the life below, on one moonless night. That someone’s eyes ablaze with fire of infinite passion.

Perhaps, this is what we call teenage, these days. My favorite person being fictional and whose superpower, derived from fear of the other people. Technically, he is a ghost, making it all the more logical. Well, don’t judge me as a lunatic, yet. I am talking about Japanese manga and anime.

But fear is more pragmatic when you are an adult. You are not responsible but ought to be responsible of everything you are forced to commit in order to make a lifetime of it. Fear which was a romantic Samba and all about a thrilling ride down the road, comes back as a haughty guy in a suit which leaps upon your throat, ensnaring you like a serpent in your Eden like mind.

I am a person of anxiety, I have realized.

I remember the day when my cousin decided to take me to a walk to the nearby PVR without informing our parents and therefore, lying. The venture was successful but still as it turned out, my mother was upset on me on something that I couldn’t even figure out.  Now, I have this issue of righteousness. I suddenly become insecure when somebody blames me on doing wrong to the others to so much extent that I start questioning my ‘self’. Seeing me like this, what my cousin told me, is still inside my head on loophole.

We sat in her bedroom and she asked me why do I look so worried. I reverted back, we should have been more careful and no I am a very relaxed or ‘cool’ person, really.

She refused this single handedly.

“No, I have seen you and I know you, you worry a lot”

“I do?”

“Yes”

This realization wasn’t harsh, it took me towards introspection, on how my muscles grow stiff under minor pressure, why my cheeks go hot during class speech or why my head sounds like a cable-less T.V-buzzz-buzzz.

It all made sense now. In that moment when she told me, I am not cool. I worry.

Well, many people can lecture you on how to control fear but I would say only one thing,  trust me for I speak from experience, the acceptance makes everything livable.

You analyze first and then solve.