The Quicksand Journey....

His stint of life had been smooth until now. His every step had earned a little more than he had put. His every pawn had salvaged its pride by feasting on a bigger and strategically placed piece. His ship had so far never been anchored and he was completely accustomed to the light disturbance of the myriad trifling tides impeding his travel. Luck too seemed to be playing under him, he had made some few good turns unknowingly, he had played some good moves unintentionally. He valued everything by the fear it instilled in others, by the discontent it conceived in him. He had been under a delusion that this was the best way of living, because nothing had ever come in his journey from his desire to its accomplishment. His eyes had never rained tears, his heart had never felt fear, yet somehow, he still had no peace between his ears. There was always something more he had wanted from everything. His every pawn had seemed to falter in its decision; he always wanted it to still play better. The anchor in his ship, though there to protect him from any obstruction ahead, had been heavy and had been deterrent to the speed of his ship. He dropped his anchor somewhere in his travel, this time with no ropes tied to it, left to sink with no calling back. In his wake of gaining, he had forgotten that somebody is losing too. With his every victory, a defeat also accompanied. He never cared to know that side of the coin, he never cared for the ships he was striking, or the pawns he led to suicide, everything seemed trivial from under the veil of his progress.

One fine day, the tides turned……..

He looked in despair at the rising tides. His island of desire was so near now and yet as if in complete mockery to all his hard work, determinations he could see his ship being harassed by the waves. He thought of anchoring, only to remember that his anchor lay right back under the blanket of that serene part of the sea. He accustomed to the calm sea, never really comprehended his next move. His earlier precariously balanced ship gave way under the diabolic winds. His every pawn suddenly turned to snitches, playing under his opponents tunes, opened every avenue that threatened his own principal pieces, and marauded his own camp. His ship under no fortification seemed to fall like a pack of cards. He had never thought he would witness this side of the coin, this anger of the sea, this change of luck, this change of fortunes. He never had felt that this could ever happen to him and he had no vision of defending himself from this mayhem. Along his journey, he always saw what lay ahead but never what lay above, never what lay behind, never saw how he left somebody under the condition he was in and never saw how those people managed to swim out of that. His success journey had formed a stepping stone for his defeat. His smooth journey was only a delusion, an indication of all the things that can go wrong, a time given to prepare him for the journey ahead. But he refused to hear the sounds of silence that spoke volumes of the deafening times ahead. He realized now, how his life had been a quicksand journey. It was all smooth in the beginning, his first caution. And then even before he realized, he had fallen victim under that mirage of success. Now he could only watch his fall, his dip under the sand. He tried to grab a few twigs, all failing to carry the weight of his “greatness”. He tried to save too much, but never realized that was what hindered in his rescue. He ultimately resigned under the situation, his rusted ship, and all his pawns gone defunct, he knew he was too late; he sunk ultimately, his diadem still smugly stuck in his head was the last to go under the sand.

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