The Numb is My Friend

A poem on existentialism, self exploration and a relationship with failure.

Bikash C Paul

A poem on existentialism, self exploration and a relationship with failure.

There have been times when I’ve given up,
felt it all slip away,
and I have smiled without a care over
the surrendering of control
furnishing me with a rush of relief.

What joy lay in the cusp of time’s palm,
It’s a wavy expanse, you’re alone to be happy,
soothing silence takes over,
your pulse intense enough to render you in trance.

All is clear and muddled at the same time,
like dense vapour rising up in slow wisps,
the uninformed genius that you are,
you know that you don’t know.

Shaken by the receding high,
what will it be now:
liquid courage or the enchanting trees?

Day and night are slaves to me,
I answer to none,
It’s half past five and the birds are howling
in my honour, for they see an unshackled man, soaring like them.

My skies are not always blue, don’t stare at blue for long,
It is a medley, swabs of purple,
or sometimes the peacock’s green, radiating and spinning,
the fire comes too, transcending to a blinding flash,
and then the abysmal black, gripped by the loneliness
is when I shed a few tears,
and sip some more.

The numb is my friend, however 'dumb' may I end.

Tanmay Raj Anand studies at Gujarat National Law University, Gandhinagar

Featured image credit: Unsplash

This article went live on January twenty-third, two thousand twenty, at zero minutes past twelve at night.

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