Castles in the air

I glance furtively at the wild blue yonder, mercifully visible outside. Thoughtful voices surround me... voices in a tongue I cannot comprehend. I realise that they speak about matters of grave complexity, problems outside my span of interest or understanding. My mind shifts gradually - there are affairs of greater import to concentrate on.
Dominic. Well, without the fairy-wings. And he was a wee bit taller.

For instance, there's no reason - I note idly - that a ten-inch high penguin with little fairy-wings, oddly reminiscent of Tinker Bell (odd because it's a penguin, dammit) should be hovering just over my window-sill.

"I am Dominic - your conscience", it says.

"My what?"

"Your conscience. I keep you from being evil."

"Why would I want a conscience? That's so nineties!"

"You do not choose to have a conscience. All persons have one."

"Look, if I have a conscience, I want her to look like Keira Knightley. Why are you here anyway? I'm not doing anything evil."

"Ah... but you are, my young ward. The path you are on can only lead to destruction - of you as a person."

"Care to explain? And don't call me your 'young ward' - it makes me feel like I have terminal cancer."

"Look within yourself... when was the last time you did something because you wanted to do it?"

"I don't know. I usually go by 'act now, contemplate the deep questions later'. Works for me."

"Why do you resist? You have lost the urge to live, the yearning to prove yourself... regret fills your days."

I fail to answer, uncomfortable with the realisation that Dominic is right. Every day is a struggle to remain sane - to prove to myself that there's a point in it all.

"You constantly debate with yourself about the meaning of your life. Your mind is a battlefield of emotions."

A mental image forms - it is a valley that seems like it was once a place of prosperity and celebration. Now, it is as dank and gloomy as a graveyard. Indeed, the audible noises of battle a short distance away suggest that death has visited this place recently. The scene shifts to the battle and I observe that the participants are no more passionate than their inanimate weapons. They swing their swords in disinterest, as though fighting to evade boredom rather than to survive. In a jolt of sudden insight, it dawns on me that I'm looking at the landscape of my mind.

The sounds of clashing blades are transformed back into the clicks of a dozen clutch-pencils, as the illusion fades and I find myself staring at the face of our lecturer in Algorithm Analysis. The steely scowl on it indicates that she's upset about something, possibly my complete lack of awareness about anything related to her subject. The class goes about its regular business.

I turn to glance at Dominic, but he's gone.

As I'm exiled to the library, I wistfully imagine how my days would have been spent had I not plunged head-first into engineering. I'd probably have built my castles in the air out of something more substantial. I might even have posted my tales where people could read them and comment. Oh wait.

4 spilt beans:

Anamika. June 25, 2009 at 10:31 PM  

"You constantly debate with yourself about the meaning of your life. Your mind is a battlefield of emotions."

You're off to a great start, Aneev.
Absolutely flawless!

I adore your blog.

Cabin-boy Dave June 25, 2009 at 10:38 PM  

I'm kinda speechless at the moment.

*Emotions welling up*

Whew... almost lost my macho exterior there. Welcome to the Loony Bean, Anamika!

ronnygeo June 28, 2009 at 10:27 PM  

G8 work dude!!! Climax kalakki.. ;D..

Cabin-boy Dave June 29, 2009 at 12:14 AM  

Thanks, man - your comment means a lot! Welcome to the Loony Bean!

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A thoroughly confused blogger with imagined Multiple Personality Disorder and delusions of usefulness. Yeah, he has issues.