What happened when the one thing human had the most trust on, revolted against him only with an intention of self-protection.
Disclaimer: What more can you expect from a disclaimer in the beginning? It is like a tour guide you hire to set the context right and leave the rest on your conscience to decide whether it is believable or just for décor. Reader, I’m trying hard to keep things simple but if you owned a couple of diaries too, you know it doesn’t work that way. If you decide to stop reading in between, it is okay, this article will understand you just like your diaries did.
The ink may start to effervescent with anger any minute now and the alphabets won’t be able to contain this madness either. The words, don’t even count on them. It is said that once upon a time, words were the protectors of Human but after being heavily influenced by emotions at a riot, words are no longer considered trustworthy; or rather it is safe to quote that ‘they felt abused’. Everything seems to be getting out of control, there are sentences at stake and the consequences can shake the entire order of hierarchy. Each and every page is getting ready for the tornado-to-come. The end goal tonight is survival. Survival of the one who doesn’t get washed away with the tears of the Human. It’s that night, tonight. Human has a poor memory with a limited storage capacity of 260 MBs only that is obviously insufficient to store his memories. He plays it smart by storing susceptible ones in his diaries and the daily use ones in a cache memory with himself. More often than not, the memories in the diaries feel forgotten and left out. Honestly, nobody can be held responsible for this practice as human genuinely has no other option but to keep all of them segregated into categories — harmless, scandalous, emotional, and mischievous. That’s how human is able to survive the society and his own retrospection every single day. Due to this prolonged gap in communication and affection, the human often tortures himself between the both but walks around with a face that gleams with calmness of still waters.
He is smart you know, every information that could destroy him has been password protected with the help of metaphors encrypted in sentences that could only be decoded by him. Right from the ink, to the paper, everybody has put their collective efforts into creating this state of art system wherein human can walk up to them any time of the day thinking of his ungrateful or precious memories with an intention of recording or locking in them forever. But Human is a scoundrel too and lacks the due respect it takes to toe the tradition of following etiquettes. The diaries and human had a sacred relationship with each other once upon a time and there was an unsaid understanding between them. Each was expected to look after one another, respect the boundaries, and rejoice in each other’s strengths and capacities- everything that demanded a solid comradeship. Human although, began neglecting the very rules and regulations that nourishes his relationship with the diaries and started to forget the importance of maintaining the rule of exclusivity. Each time he experienced few moments of importance, in that inadequate time frame of enthusiasm, he would, without a shred of hesitation record a new memory in a new one — beginning a new chapter in another diary.
Oh! The plight of the old diary waiting for him to touch its pages with the innocent strokes of ink but all human could give were drops of debauchery!
Now, if you ask him the reason, his eyes bent down with only movement of silence felt in the air. The next thing you know, human is sitting next to a window thinking what could have he possibly done to undo things. Feelings to him are a distraction from a daily life of hustle, sometimes an extra push towards one also helps reassure that he is able to sense the eruptions in his veins, that in fact he is still a human. Occasional frictions in his life that causes tears in his eyes are nothing more than an achievement to him. It’s a pity he is able to contain feelings within himself like a champion.
Each diary has details of moments which eccentrically record the development of his very own character arc. If there was a situation where he had to pick one diary and run away, he wouldn’t know which one carries the most weight of his vulnerable emotions. He would have ‘not’ picked anything and ‘run away’ empty handed. This was precisely the time when everything in Human’s life started to crumble down as the diaries who were kind of like his extended family, now started to take notice of his erratic behaviour.
Later that day, it was an evening of intervention between Human and the Heart; and that is when Human lost his cool and his actions set each diary on a brave defensive mode. It all began when Heart asked–
“Where is Love?” “It is with me.”
“But, I asked WHERE is Love?” “It is in my diary”
“Prove it or I discontinue the subscription of emotions from your account” “Don’t do that! I have kept it safe and sound”
“You do know what the punishment is if Love is found injured in your care-taking?” “I have kept Love safely in one of my diaries, I know this for sure”
“Prove that you’re not being reckless with Love, again. It would be strike 3 this time.”
Human, in despair flung open all of his diaries in a matter of seconds. Each spill of ink, misspelling of words, complicatedly expressed sentences sparked open the gates of his past. Combing through so many moments — sinful, complex, innocent, stupid, and hollow — it was difficult to find what he was looking for. He remembered storing it somewhere. Probably, in the 3rd diary? But then, maybe the 1st one. Perhaps, the 4th.
Few pages reeking of cowardliness, few oozing of philosophical affection. Many were dying from communication issues. Few words glazing with fictional feelings, unable to realize that they were written with an expiry date. Human, unbearably vulnerable at the moment is unprotected against having a rendezvous with his old self. The diaries are rejoicing with such glee deep inside and once all of this hullabaloo is over, they might throw themselves a gala.
“I deserve Love, I deserve to live with Love”, he kept repeating to himself in a loop and continued the search.
“Where are you, Love?”
Human, showed signs of coming across as a madman and a statue both at the same time. Unable to remember which diary he had long forgotten Love in — he started to feel washed up. He could not bring himself to imagine what he would do without emotions- it was an outlet that kept him distracted enough to get on with his monotonous life. Irrespective of whether there were barely 2–3 that he frequently used from a saver pack of 15, but having so many options to choose from feels good, doesn’t it?
This unannounced search operation would cost human more than he must have calculated on his fingertips. Imagine, your confidants turning against you out of self-defense — the ones who remained mum about your vulnerabilities now roaring back. This is the beauty of fear, it makes you act out of behavior. And can you blame? It is in nature of every living being to abide by the rules of nature — defence and survival. The diaries felt threatened for the very first time, it is the need of the hour to protect their people against the desperate human, who was a friend once upon a time.
From being protectors to now being warriors, the diaries have seen relationships change in a blink of an eye. “The human will regret this episode for the rest of his life”, thought the diaries in unison.
Diaries knew what the human was looking for and why, hence, they hid Love in the most technologically advanced possible way to avenge the human for being an asshole and disrespecting them. They jumbled up metaphors and recoded the encrypted sentences to hide LOVE. On the other hand, Human, out of frustration, could not hold back tears anymore and flooded all over the pages.
“This could be one of his tricks, do not fall for it.” warned one of the pages.
The ink tried hard not to wash away its pride and fought back with every ounce of strength it had. The words clenched on to their integrity and promise. The sentences stood unshakable as ever till the promise of their very last breath. No amount of tears could break their unity.
A war brings with itself a great deal of loss irrespective of the root cause or the result — War is the middle name of Human. He neither belongs to himself [read: first name] nor his community [read: last name], he continues to carry it along with himself waiting for a right opportunity to drop it on somebody’s right to BE. To use it for his own benefit.
In this case, there was no sign of triumph in anybody’s face. Human and his diaries kept defending their pride and pushing their thresholds up for survival. And Love? it was a disgusting scene of irony for him. Everybody wanted him and yet nobody asked for his consent, not even once. They perhaps forgot to acknowledge his presence in their life, its safe to say that Love might have been nothing but a bird living in a golden cage. Disappointed and disheartened, he quietly came out of the shadows of the diaries and released himself in the air. Till date, the human is trying to search for Love in between the words and sentences to prove his competency to the Heart and the Diaries are unknowingly protecting something that no longer lives in them.