The story of The Choice.

This write-up is a byproduct of a discussion with a friend.Any credit, if at all worthy should be reserved for her for digging this from withinme.

Crescendo-The Birth of the Choice.

Choice. One word. Two different directions. Small challenge for conscience. Between pain and less pain. First you dismiss it as trivia. You presume you can work around it. There is no respite for such false conjectures. You think you can succeed in escaping into fiction.But it only takes time to separate fact from forged.The escape seems almost effortless, until it slowly dawns upon you. It did not chase you instead you have chased yourself into it. What seemed a beautiful reality has been ruthlessly shattered by an ugly unreal. You want to hold onto something, but there are no planks in the mind. A culprit has to be desperately assembled now, painted with excuses and draped by emotions. A neurotic search is on for what was always yours but you never owned; your mind.Since it is silent you assume everything is fine, but you do not know silence does speak.Pleading for forgiveness you hear a faint voice, you wish it was someone’s; sadly it is your own. The growing voice tells you that the world has betrayed the morality of truth and laughed at your misery. Amidst this terrible pain of chaos you start feeling it but you are not sure what within you feels it. The feeling unfolds from the void of within building slowly inch by inch into an unbearable force, an impulse, a choice.

Decrescendo-The Death of the Choice.

An overwhelming initiation takes over your entire being directing all conflicts into a state of logic which looks absurd then. Yet it makes complete sense because you badly wanted this and this can arise from absolute chaos not order. Now the ego can be trusted to build on this denomination and beat a slow retreat from self. Well secured you deduce that the universe is a silly joke that nobody wants to laugh at. There is no other truth higher than this you scream at the top of your lungs. Laughter abounds now, not at the universe but at you, you have become the joke. You search around to find a face that laughed but the universe is faceless. You recede to check your premises, but all appears quiet on your front. To catch a glimpse of any heaven you must kiss death first. Your weakened conscious is a danger to itself and to others. Your memory is dementing but your choice remembers the universe. Some of it remembers you, some of it doesn’t. Consequence is the final installment of that choice. You will die now with your choices. The choice did not fail you. It has fulfilled its purpose. You now comprehend it. Another simple game. New universe. Counterchoice. Choice.

If gone unnoticed, the first para comprises sentences carrying one extra word than the preceding ones while the second para is a tone down completing the harmony of the paradox.