I wish, I am......................

I wish, I was …..

Like any other human being of this planet, he too has a name which was chosen by his parents at the time of his birth. But no one calls him by his name. Even he, himself has no idea, what is his name? Commoners call him insane or maniac and doctors call him “chronically mentally ill”. Insane, maniac and mentally ill are the common name of a single person, who wanders on the streets of Gautam Nagar.He don’t, owes a house of his own with name plate at door. But even he is not nomad. He spent his every night on the platform of Swami Vivekananda statue.

In morning his eyes open by the nuisance of vehicles and sun light. No one wishes him “Good Morning” with a cup of tea or a glass of water. He collects his shabby blankets and torn mat from the platform and put them in a jute bag .He tightens the mouth of the jute bag with a rope and hide it in the trunks of a tree, so that no one will access or steal it.After all jute bag, mat and blanket are few stuffs  that he owns. He spills water over his face but do not brush his teeth and later sits near a tea stall with glooming eyes, looking for a kind and warm hearten person who endorse him broatmeal or a cup of tea or both. Although this may be true, but most compiling evidence is that, every day doesn't turn that much fruitful to him, sometimes he has nothing in hands to feed his empty belly. Then in that case, he examines dust bin in a hope that someone had left some part of their diet which is ample to kill his hunger. Accumulating few sips of tea from every left cup, he gathers enough to drink. But even this is not that much easy as it sounds, a shop owner never wants an insane person in his shop vicinity, that will keep sane ones away from it; may be keeping inane s away from his shop is shop’s marketing strategy. People say that in noon, he did some sort of work,of loading and unloading goods from lorry to shops; from which he can arrange a plate of lunch. He has nothing to do with dollar and rupee rate, money sufficient to kill his hunger is all he need and wanted.

Sometimes in the middle of the day, he cares himself in the mirrors of parked cars, for hours with a numb face. Still clueless, what he looks at? long beards, tidy hairs or never cleaned ragged cloths. He talks on his own-no need of a friend to talk with. He laughs, all of a sudden- a good or a bad joke, is not an issue for him and on fewer occasions he sobs-without any hurt physically, mentally or socially. Though, he hugs dogs like his own family and pals and feed them food, even when he is in disguise.  The time when anxiety overcomes him, he throws stones over people around him and does every sort of vandalism and then resilience citizens called him “cozen vandal” who is evil for civilized society and blame cops, for being failed in sending this maniac to an asylum, where he got a medical treatment. Cool guys have friendship bands across their wrist while civilized girls wear bangles or bracelets in their hands. But he has handcuffs across his wrist, which has literary two meaning; either he was a criminal who had absconded from prison bars or a chronically ill person who escaped from an asylum. A   blacksmith must have given him relief by cutting down the chains, joining handcuffs of both hands; eventually he never finds handcuffs keys, so that he can free himself from the grip. Now handcuffs become a part of his identity. For the rest of the day, he used to sit near the same platform with his back struck to Vivekananda statue. He is still called Insane; instead his whole day spends in the vicinity of great Swami Je

Once, some Mr. anonymous told that “if you are only sane person in the world, then you are only insane too”. Whether he is above common society norms and laws or below it, but in both cases he is insane. His insights and thoughts are hard and impeccable to judge and anticipate, for commoners like us. In dawn, one can easily figure out people feeding pieces of biscuits and breads to cows or dogs, but a human being who is not in his senses, is a vandal who can harm them. This is human’s way to judge humanity; preferring an animal over another human. This world is cold and dark or whether god loves to torture humans. He just not divided people on the basis of cast and creed, but also on sanity and insanity.

I don’t know whether he is freak, an outer or a diagnosed crazy. But on whole, he is like a flower, which blooms every morning and shrinks by the end of a day.  One morning, I want my soul in his brain, for a day, I want to lose myself for sake of solace. I wish, I was…….

P.s: A kind of mental illness lies within every single human being; doesn't matter either it is goal oriented or relationship oriented. But everyone is not labeled as maniac, technically one without a specific goal, following same pattern, same routine is often termed as a psychotic.