Narrator

Captured in Jahangir Art Gallery, Mumbai by unknown artist

Mind is a narrator the narrator who talks to me, The narrator who tells me what is right, what is wrong, it helps me understand neutrality.

Mind is a not part of me, but the internal voice is. The voice is a scribe, it’s holding a knife waiting to find the right moment to make that perfect blow.

The narrator, his voice is not audible I can never hear it. Today, it just made me deaf, and I did not have my mind at place. People were just visible to me, but I was deafened. The voices guide, no, they misguide me.

The narrator asked me to shout, it asked me to hyperventilate, it asked me to write songs, it asked me to sing poems, say the poems loud, to see, see what the listeners internal voices reacted.

The narrator, he’s in my mind telling me that I am holier-than-thou, telling me how things will go, telling me what I will say, telling me everything it knows, but it never tells me one thing which is, when will the knife be thirsty for my blood?