Metamorphosis

He lived in a cocoon. Isolated from the world, he felt protected. The people around him had given him nothing but pain. He decided to live a separate life; a virtual one, different from the reality so that it shielded him from the wounds inflicted on him by others. The cocoon’s membrane was made up of a callous indifference to his world. It made him appear unruffled and unemotional as he strongly maintained his stoically calm exterior. Within, he knew he was not the person designed for standing up and fighting for himself. He had resigned from living his life to its fullest, yet lived unwantingly, hesitantly. He knew that he had failed the purpose for which he came into this world, whatever that purpose was.

Beneath the façade lay a highly emotional, sensitive man, who feared one force: the world. He was at par with it, he knew. Yet he kept silent for fear of retribution. He never dared to confront the enemy. Being anti-social and shy, he had few friends, but those that were, to them he was a wonderful person; filled with ideas waiting to be voiced. Enemies were in much greater number; to some he was an indifferent, inarticulate person; to some, he was simply a good human being; for some, he was a chip of bad quality marble that came in everyone’s way; for many, he was a philosopher who vainly tried to show he was not mad.

He was terrified of anyone spinning the cocoon off him, terrified of anyone looking at him closely. He feared that they should discover his real identity and his faults. He never was consciouly aware of the fact that a human is not wholly angelic. He wanted that everyone should think of him as a good person, leave him there and not invade his bubble. He was under the delusion that the moment he awoke from his slumber, he would destroy his virtual world forever and suffer a life of living in the reality, which he feared. He feared his unhappy past repeating itself; the thought of it was enough to make him wince.

Once or twice, he was tempted strongly to climb out of his hiding hole and slither around, basking in the sun. He subdued the urge as ruthlessly. He would warn himself of the consequences: “Don’t get out of your protection, they will not accept you” or “They will embarrass you and make you realize your past” or “Aren’t you happy with the solitude you are enjoying – it is a luxury for many”. He did not want this luxury, he would tell himself in the lowest of voices. He was restless, feeling something guilty in those riches, he wanted to throw away those bags of gold coins bearing the word “solitude”. He was as restless as he was afraid of the world. The intensity of his temptation to see the world grew by day. He started looking towards a complete alternative to his present state. He could change and never look back. Else, he could maintain his status quo and live as a separate entity, regardless of the world’s people, in his hermit.

It reached a stage when he could no longer sit patiently and hibernate; he felt the sunshine beckoning, he was feeling the heat and passion demanding change, the uneasyness was growing. He felt his cocoon was losing its usefulness. It was time to shed it.

The time had to be right and auspicious. It just had to be some person who would befriend him and coax him out of his shelter; the person who would realize his unspoken wants and cure him miraculously. It just had to be some external force. He was not strong enough for the transformation. He knew he had to take the support from someone else.

He could not wait for long. He knew it was all in his imagination; for the first time he reared his head, screamed and let go of himelf. He saw it as a change to his silence. He looked around, saw people willing to befriend him and to take him into their circle. He bid adieu to his loneliness. He smiled. He could never resist temptation; somehow, he knew he had to revert to his natural self, the part of him still in the reality. He realized his inner want and saw the best way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. He found happiness, satisfaction and more. He found peace in following his instincts, which were proof of his being sane. It was such a blessing being able to have choices in life – the best way was to enjoy life as it went. Being able to cherish the better things like good company was better than being sullen and alone. He never believed in asceticism after that. In the end, the motivation was internal, not external, to realize that he was human after all.