Kiss the Truth

by Aanya F Niaz

I cannot think, I cannot be free.


It’s all about being something you’re not. It’s a game we never learned how to play, but were thrown into the sea and expected to parallel the skill of the fish. The world is spiraling downwards, into a raging motion of what can be. But what is it now? We commend technological advancements, the longevity of batteries that run our lives; whether it be a laptop, mobile or a an iPad. We engage ourselves in the motionless existence of a screen, a light glaring back at us and encouraging us to remain addicted. The less the emotion, the better is what they all claim. The softer you are, the weaker is what they all claim.We’ve turned into a robotic existence where declaring your love has become a sin, and the overuse of the word ‘friend’ has become despicable. Slow down and carry on, they claim. In fact, they beseech you to hide beneath the soil, amidst the grime of a thoughtless perserverance of not who you want to be, but rather who you should be:

If it is to be you to scream out loud in the middle of a dinner party because what someone said pierced through your soul and grasped onto your heart and twisted it in circles you never thought of before, remain silent. Do not show, do not feel, do not believe in what your intuition claims. The show must go on and you must not delve into the trivial journey of investing in mankind, or sharing with them the secrets of your heart and mind. Neither can you confess that you host persistent thoughts of holding someone’s hand, or telling them off, or telling them that you care. Do not care, they plead. Because caring is defeat, it is merely a characteristic that belongs to the defeated. If someone lends you a hand, hold back and think twice before reaching out for their fingers, for they may sting and the scar will never erase. If it’s pouring outside, hesitate before calling a friend to share their umbrella with you because they will want something in return. Turn off the voice, which is internalized within your system, which is the reason why your heart pumps blood following a rhythm no man can re-create because if you begin to hear the music, you will silence out the world and become obsolete. Don’t be too nice, or too sweet, or too polite – Don’t say yes to the first invite you receive by a friend or a foe, and never, ever be caught laughing too hard because they will glare at you and deem you unworthy of time and value. Run away from the screams inside of you that tell you to inform another of your love for them, because loving is for the weak. Silence the racing hearts that commend that you are alive, for to feel emotions is to feel the opposite of victory. Never let go, because if you do, you will get so carried away that you will forget the purpose of your robotic survival and be the best in quiet thought, and keenly observe and forget that the Lord gave you a tongue. Be a man or a woman of few words because that has become the most valued treasure of all times. Do not dance while you are driving, do not sing aloud, do not smoke a cigarette in public and never, ever smile unknowingly because someone will catch your moves and devour your reality with their own gruesome ideologies. Give time, test and break others because that’s the only way you will find the truth. If someone hurts you once, run as fast as you can because no one is worthy of your pain and if they follow you, run even faster because it is a shame to expose your vulnerable humanity. Never touch someone’s arm in affection, and never give them a kiss on their forehead because they will harass your eyes with their devilish thoughts.

What has the world come to? This is what we are being taught day after day, night by night – To escape from the sole biological reality that science has discovered yet: that of humanity; that of sentimentality and emotions. It is what differentiates us from an inanimate object. We are not objects. We are living proof that there is a bond in the universe that wants us to speak, to feel and to believe. Our feet are better than any engine in the world; they can take us places we never imagined and they can feel the pain or the joy of a long distance walk; they can sense the morning dew and they can caress your heart. Your mind is your only God, it is what has no limits, it has no edges, no corners, no circular motion of process. In fact, it is as limitless and free as the wind, intangible yet powerful as it can sweep you off your feet. Why are we turning into wooden sculptures? Why are we shattering the very pieces of our glassy existence, each piece of glass reflecting on our souls and why are we so bent on forgetting that we are alive, and that we have senses that can ensure we are so?