The Tears of a Clown.

I was satisfyingly desperate. I had to take access to a conventional life. Lackluster. When my heart broke, everything changed. I hope best things happen when you repeat the mistakes you’ve earlier done. Trance rush. There are perks of living a hypocritical life. It terminates the emotional fragment of the brain. You get an unbiased way of perceiving situations. It helped me a lot later on, to understand the bigger picture. It gave me reason. A reason worth struggling for. It gave the answer to all the things that had happened.

 Tears of a clown

Nobody likes mutiny. Especially the one starting the rebel. I dint like it either. But my heart was broken. A broken heart can do the most unpredictable things. Disturbing things. But more of that later.


I once had a dream. The dream in which I used to dream about all the good and big things I could do. But it’s too late now. You see, my Dream got altered. Things happen when you least expect them to. Particularly the bad ones. Depressingly enough I chosenot to move on with life. That incident changed it all. I chose to be the outcast. Despicable me for that. Cause I had a dream. Even though a huge portion of the perfect dream was shattered, it dint matter, for I wanted to live the half alive dream. Maybe it is she, who doesn’t deserve me (my heart consoled.). Being an outcast and being hated by everyone was not easy. It tears one apart. It tore me apart. But that was the consequence I dint regret getting served with. I wanted to live my life on my own terms; I wanted my way of seeing myself at the top gazing down into her eyes with ridicule. It was the rage kicking in. It gave me a whole new level of high.  In the rage, I lost track of people most valuable. Like I said, a broken heart does the most unpredictable things. Disturbing things.


Time passes by, so does the rage. And then there is this big hollow space in yourself, which just keeps filling up. Now I only see myself at the top, she is nowhere to be found below. The good times are only a half remembered memory now. The bad ones, well I forgive myself for those. But the dream still prevails. The desire to see myself at the top. The need of that desire.



My dearest folks always said I was rebellious. I guess that’s why they where the first ones to face the upcoming downpour of rebellion. It’s not about going against someone, for me, it was all about fulfilling the dream that no one saw but me. What ever obstacles came in my way this time, seemed to be happening for the first time. That is when I realized; society always tries to pick on the offbeat ones. A society which comprises of fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, friends, neighbors, teachers, co workers, maids and so on depending on the particular individual. It (society) is assembled by a set of rules which no one tries to bend. And if he does, he becomes the outcast.


Now I wonder, what or who is the one, by which or by whom, the so-called “rules” of the society got decided? Can one only be as good as the society allows him or her to be? Has anyone actually sat and thought, that from many generations earlier, the society has got confined into a bubble of rules created by many events and influential people of the society. Have you ever been in a situation where your gut feeling tells you to go ahead and do a thing you believe in, but the society doesn’t let you, and you too abandon the idea fearing becoming hated and getting out casted? Everyone pictures a funny red smiling face when the word ‘clown’ is mentioned. Because, that is the way everyone is made to perceive a clown from the beginning.  Did anyone ever wonder, how the ‘tears of a clown’ would look like? Just something to think about.


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