Finding Comfort in Chaos

Every beauty fades, colors walk through the doorsteps of dullness and creativity becomes regular, and left we are, with nothing but spoils of scarred souls, in everything that ever defined us, walk away like it meant nothing.

There is a new line of nothingness elating the race, for the daily attire of promiscuity and the dictatorial world of commerce has us playing submissively, and it’s not our fault that we’ve had to sail across such unprecedented waters.

An emotional game at play and many of us are already losing inside our own skin. It’s as if the stars had it planned, seasons that knew so well, impending fall that lingered upon the mind but we could not foresee, temporary attractions that so splendidly lured and had us blinded indefinitely.

And when the room in which one lies in starts to rebel against the only person it could never have, no piece of rock or paper could even fix, chaos of the soul that transcends unto the land of nowhere.

Now that the mirror of attraction only stages blank stares, doorknobs only open to a new realm of suffering, and clocks stop in entirety, perfecting their behavior just because they love to see us weep.

But in everything miserable, there is a shade of hope, one that so fluently binds the race to new heights, has us yearning, serenely capturing the mind like it never before.

To say that chaos is good may echo different views, but to live it through and come out of it is something very few could equate to. In searching for answers, one may at times acknowledge the ‘bad days’ that were much better than the ‘good days’ in deciphering the big questions that surround.

It’s as if all the songs that have ever been sung, the silence when everyone bewailed, stacked rejection letters just from one person and emptiness inside the chest at the peak of midnight starts to make sense—maybe it was all worth it.

Some of the greatest artists have also been able to produce art, most invaluable, with a touch of chaos that so exquisitely intermingled with their everyday life.

Looking for inspirations in this dimly lit arena may become difficult but the spring of joy has always been there, it is us, always have been, delaying our angelic entries. For some, it’s become a daily attire with life and everything painful, allowances of satisfaction, training the mind to adapt pertinently.

So when the cosmos finally reach into equilibrium, we will be ready to walk, unaltered by the rainstorms or the toxic companionship that may present itself. It’s chaos that always wins, so we are just trying to blend into its path by creating something out of it.

-Yogesh Chandra