Ground Is The Limit| English Article| Sayan Kar

By Sayan Kar

Dementia they said. A medical terminology is all what it took to interpret the ‘uncharacteristic’ behavior of the man. A tag so easily placed; ‘crazy’ would sound too coarse, they must have thought. So, instead, a sugar coated version of craziness was added to the ‘CV’ of his life.
As he looked around in a dishevelled manner, he saw smirks, disgust, hatred in the faces of the multitudes of people around him. Why not, after all he was amidst the ‘intellectual’ class of the city! The ever powerful, who had it in their birthright to look down upon anything inferior to them. Thing he was and the rest were Homo sapiens, mighty men.
A lifelong of hard work, criticisms, rebukes had finally led him to this state of hopelessness. Shouldn’t have it been the contrary?? A question he had asked the world a million times and all that he got in reply was a void, a void that kept growing deeper and grimmer.
Had he really achieved anything in life other than sneers?? A question he asked himself, and there came the curt reply, ‘NO’. It was an easy task, for the pessimistic side of him had long before knocked down Mr. Optimistic in him. Jobless, penniless, wandering around like a cur. But this wasn’t what he had planned for life!! ‘Life’-the term really didn’t sound that magnanimous, rather it reminded him of other such short words-‘fuck’, ‘shit’, ‘cur’, ‘damn’, ‘hell’. ‘Life’ is glorious, isn’t it??
En route to his destination, he had something to say to the intellectual mass, a monotonous, placid line, but nonetheless a thought of a man, however big a failure he might be. “Ora amar talent ta bujhlo na janen, amake tuchho korlo, shara ta jibon.” Suddenly he remembers something and bursts into a fit of  laughter; he thinks aloud, “Jibon!! Sala ei shobdo ta ke abishkaar korlo bol toh? Shey toh shobcheye boro pagol! Arr ‘amar’ naki dementia".He stops suddenly, overwhelmed by the scene in front of him. A vista of snowcapped mountains standing tall and dignified.
Glory, dignity, respect, was all he wanted in his life, but then life doesn’t guarantee you wishes like Aladin’s genie. Strangled by the society, deprived of happiness, he seemed to find a moment’s peace in the mountains facing him. A moment is all it takes to find happiness, a moment is all it takes to be ‘grounded’.
Freefall it was, wind gushing against his face, a 1500 ft. journey isn’t that rapid as it seems, no matter how much gravity tries to shorten the time.
In the arms of his mother, on the lap of his father, that soft hand through his hair, the wet kisses on his cheeks, the bitter-sweet rebukes, the flight of his soul through the seven oceans, the fire of desire that he once saw in his eyes through the mirror, his passion, his vigour, the first chocolate he tasted, the first movie he saw, school playground, unwavering happiness, he the kid, ‘Sky is the limit’, his father’s words ringing in his ears, a sudden effort to undo things, an effort to relive life, a silent scream, a wry smile. Smile symbolizing irony, for sky it is not, ground it is. ‘Ground is the limit’. Limit reached! Journey ends, darkness prevails...