silence

One of the most traumatising, melancholic & yet at the same time, enlightening experience in a doctor’s life is the rounds/posting done in the psychiatry ward. This was written just after my last day of posting in Gurgaon district hospital in 2018:

Silence.

No words form ink at the brink of end

Words falter; dreaming disorder; another failure waiting

Awaiting disaster; hope leaves; friends go; end now? Who knows

Going through the usual routine; silent screams; crawling into the skin of pain

A tough regime; counting on the hands of people that gotta stay; pray? Never did. Principles? Hands of steel.

Going beyond the allowed lines; sands of time lying low on lying gold mines that are without a soul or shine

Signs? But you’d rather choose silence; your silence is violence; a stand that stands on weak grounds while you are surrounded by scoundrels in towns you do not recognise; lack of people that do not speak just talk and await their turn to make sound; and when the world is going round and we get on the journey to conquer it to defy odds that are self created and fated to end us and all; the snowball going upwards killing each thought and each word that I felt now

Or maybe I still do and try to get it through to you but you hell bent on this hell that will just not end till you 

Come out of the past crowds and the last thought of hate that surrounds you on the self defeating victory

That you still see and you will be till you shall be infinity but the mystery is in the history and his 

Story shall not be revealed; for if it was me I would try to be a free minded soul and find out and

Give a shout out to the selfish me and tell the real me to come out that wants to get through

But you shall see that the history of past trauma was a drama created by weak men 

That have no respect for a woman that is beautiful inside and out and that stands

Tall in a crowd while their stares create self doubt in her that should

Never be. Will we ever be free to just be what we want to be?

For the world to see; for the way it is supposed to be?

Where I pray to a paper made Christmas tree?

Pray? Is that hypocrisy? Is that blasphemy?

Is that a disease that is killing me?

For the world may never see?

Or never know 

As time stops

Silence.