Sitting
all alone in his cold dark room, all he used to do was thinking about the things
that made him somewhat happy and sad too. He was not aware of the events that were going
on around him. He was not aware of the incidents taking place inside his house
even. He was not acquainted with the idea of society and social relations. He
was just indulged in thinking; weaving fabrics of untold stories with the threads
of his thoughts. He was alone but surrounded by the welcomed or unwanted
thoughts. Thoughts were the entire treasury he had. He had no intention of
meeting people. He had no affection of short or long conversations.
Conversations seemed him fake and out of his world. He never liked people
because of his inability to understand fake expressions that people used to
have while talking. He had fear of facing relatives that appeared him more strangely
than the strangers with no acquaintance of his self.
Though,
he had all the pleasure of being captive in the prison of his thoughts, but somewhere
in the depth of his unconscious self he was curiously trying to get free. Free
in his self. He tried holding his thoughts back. He tried making all kind
of efforts to break this magic of thoughts. Thoughts were charming, but making him
dull in his outer appearance. Most of the time he looked lost. Lost in a world
of thoughts that has no way out. He did not care whether society finds him lost
or not. But, what made him afraid was his own appearance in the mirror.
Whenever he faced the mirror, he found himself lost; he was lost and confined
inside the thick walls of cold dark room. Indeed, he was a prisoner of his own
thoughts.
