Nobody's worth living for..! Ending. (Written by Kasak)

                                                  About the writer!

The writer known by a pen name, Kasak is a fitness freak, who does modelling and in his words, he is someone who, "emphasises on all experiences in life". He likes to travel and it is music that keeps him motivated. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Nobody's worth living for!

For, part-1 visit the link, http://www.gagansvaid.blogspot.in/2014/11/guest-blog-by-kasak.html

For, part-2 visit the link, http://gagansvaid.blogspot.in/2014/12/kasak-continues.html

For, part-3 visit the link, http://gagansvaid.blogspot.in/2014/12/nobodys-worth-living-for-part-3.html

For, part-4 visit the link, http://gagansvaid.blogspot.in/2014/12/nobodys-worth-living-for-part-4-by-kasak.html

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part-5 :
Nobody's worth living for!

“Done with your packing?” Simar asks.

“Simar I didn’t get any luggage! Remember? I have a guitar, one shirt and three Tees that I bought. I’ll stuff them somewhere in this bag. Chill!” I say.

“Fine! You have your train ticket with you na? I have made some salami sandwiches for you. Don’t eat the food they serve you in the train. It’s gross! And call me as soon as you reach. And you better focus on your work now. Don’t drink on the way okay!” She says.

“Okay Mummy! Now relax. I’ll be alright. Looks like you’re going to miss me?”

“NO! Not at all! You were such a nuisance here. I mean, just look at the house now! It looks like a rat’s den. Smells of cigarettes and nothing is in place. You are going to give me a hard time clearing all this mess!”

“Hmm. At least you will be thinking of me in your curses and swear words!”

“Fool! I am going to miss you. Can’t you bloody see how much I have been sinking since morning? That is why you are so awkward when it comes to handling women. Stupid!” She says as her eyes well up.

“Hey! Sweetheart! Please don’t cry! I am going to miss you too.” I say and give her a tight hug.

“Don’t go na please! I have grown so fond of having you around. Who will help me cook pasta? Who will drink wine and barge on to ‘Malabari Parathas’ with me at 3 in the night? Who will have intellectual conversations about love with me in the random-est of places? Who will be waiting for me when I get back home late from work? This little house is going to miss you!” She sobs and hugs me back.

“I love you Simar! Let’s get married.” I wink at her.

“Shut up! Fool. Spare me please! Out of a billion people YOU! I mean eww.” She laughs.

“That was very rude! Anyway I’ll take leave. Bye Simar!” I say and sit into the auto-rickshaw.

“Bandra Terminous bhaiya!” The vehicle starts.

“Rishit! Listen. What about the answers you were seeking? Had any luck with them?” She asks.

“They are somewhere around, very close to me. I just have to be aware and open to realize them.” I say, feeling the ‘mysterious healer’ speaking through me.

Simar fakes a grin. The kind you give when you don’t understand anything the other person said. I wave at her until she diminishes along the distance completely.

                       ******************************************************

The train is vibrating worse than Nokia 2230 in its prime, if not worse (Pun-intended). My chain of thoughts is interrupted by soft pat on my shoulder.

“Bhaiya wow! You know how to play the violin?” A small boy, not over ten, comes over to my seat, fiddling with my guitar kept beside the train table.

His mother, sitting on the opposite seat looks at me with an embarrassed expression. I reassure her with a smile.

“No champ! This is not a violin. It’s a guitar!” I say. He raises his eyebrows.

“Same thing bhaiya!” He grins wide.

“Haha! Sure! What’s your name champ?” I ask.

“Myself Vijay, bhaiya! Can you play a song for me please?”

“Okay Vijay bhaiya! Which song should I play for you?”

I play a mash-up of his favourite songs and all the passengers sitting in the same berth cabin join me with their distinguished vocals. He looks overjoyed. He is shy but his mother insists him to thank me with a kiss on my cheeks. The smile on the little boy’s face gives me a unique euphoria that any other stimulant or tranquilizer would fail to do so. After all, its moments like these that make your life feel less of a burden.

“Beta, you sing very well!” The little boy’s mother says.

“Thank you aunty!”

“What do you do for a living, beta?”

“Music! I am an artist. I am in talks with the producers in Mumbai for a solo album of mine!”

“Mummy! Even I want to be a singer like bhaiya! He is so good!”

“No Vijay! You will study very hard and you will do music as a hobby.” She says and gives me the naïve-children-and-their-useless-wishes expression.

This reminds me of my tough times with my family. I am not infuriated and not at all up for retaliation or debate with the child’s mother. But an inner voice suggests that I must express myself now. My control, for a precise moment, ebbs away from me. The words force themselves out.

“Vijay come here!” I command. He obliges and comes and sit on my lap.

“Now listen to me very carefully! Always do what you really want to do okay? Remember that your teachers, parents and friends are going to tell you many things. They might tell you that you can do what you love as a hobby. Don’t listen to them. Do it with all your heart and be the best at it!”

“Yes bhaiya!”

I feel my emotions’ draining themselves out, just like accumulated water flows in abundance from a canal. The child’s mother looks at me in the eye, giving an angry smirk, as if I am trying to misguide her child. But I feel as if I am being used as a medium and the words coming out are coming from the deepest corners of my heart. Shocked but curious, I continue talking.

“Let me tell you this from experience! Real happiness comes from living for you. I took ample time to figure this out for myself. Yes surely, being empathic and concerned towards your people and surroundings is vital. But if you don’t live a life which you always desire to live, you will be miserable and full of remorse. If there is anyone worth living for….it’s YOU. It’s for your dreams, your aspirations and your desires. Only when you love what you’re doing and trust yourself with your choices, you can be in peace with yourself.” I explain, more to myself.

The sparkle in the boy’s eye suggests that I have accomplished my feat. I experience a unique void where in I am fully free and extremely light. All the weight has been removed of my shoulders. I experience my subtle ‘Eureka’ moment. After looking everywhere and talking to numerous people, I found my answer within myself. Suddenly my soul feels unrestricted and unlimited.

The child’s mother fakes a grin, clearly not convinced by my words and asks the little boy to sleep. I wish him goodnight and head outside and stand beside the berth door. A sense of nostalgia gives me jitters all over my body. Twenty days back, I was here, standing at a similar train door, bruised and broken, staring into the fast moving scenery.

I feel the bruise on my lower lip, it has almost healed. I check my phone contacts, reminiscing the various rendezvoused I had during my stay in the city of dreams. The ever smiling auto -wallah, who was an awesome companion on that lonely night besides the wine. Shanaya! her number being saved  as ‘Miss Society’. I giggle a little to myself and delete her number. Then the awesome guitarist who was lucky to find unconditional love for the second time and became my reason for reassurance. Lastly, the ‘mysterious’ reiki healer who became an unexpected assistance in the quest for my answers, which I had now found and was content.

Finally Shivani. She no longer hinders my appearance with remorse or aggression. I feel at peace by loving her wholeheartedly while we lasted and now letting her go doesn’t feel like a daunting task anymore. She was a difficult past which I braved through. Honestly, I say that with pride! My future was now calling me and it was time to shoot towards my dreams. I had MYSELF to live for now! I’d better do it to my best.

My phone rings, breaking my spree of beautiful thoughts.

“Hello”

“Hello Rishit sir! It’s Sachin from Hard Rock café, Saket. I have been trying your number since eternity. Where have you been? Is your performance on tomorrow? No last minute cancellations sir. Please! I’ll be fired!”

“Relax man! The show is on. Needed some recreation lately. I am back now!”. I say and disconnect the call.

Kasak
For, Artist Address