The Naked Man



A little credit is in order. I had the pleasure of having a quick tête-à-tête with a blogger who hit my mind with a million more thoughts. When one’s words have the power to instill an array of thoughts into the reader’s mind, that is the best form of recognition that the master of those words can have. Or so I think. Let me introduce the rest of us to her blog  ––blogs/snags , by Meera Shiva.



From the central theme of gifting someone a benefit of our doubts, our conversation soon swayed towards anger and the power it yields over us. Ask a man who has lost everything to anger, his tears of resentment will convey a story that would touch your heart. It’s in those tears , I brave a few more words tonight.


And so I find myself naked tonight. As dignity mandates, I’m dressed to comforts. As decency mandates, my thoughts do not rob anybody’s decency. Yet, I find myself naked in the comforts of the walls of regrets that hold me a prisoner to a past. A past of laughs and callous squander without worries of a time to come. It is now, when its beyond my reach, do I miss the miracles of a magic that I once chose to embrace.


I find myself naked tonight. Tonight is an ode to a cruel friend, the Truth. The allies that I found in my pride are not with me now. I’m not concealed to a comforting safety of impregnable veil of words of lies that I’ve come to skilfully master. They are not my friends tonight. I’m but stripped of adjectives that I call emotions. I could call them anything. I never thought my ability to articulate would hold me as a muse to it’s icy cold sinister smiles.


I’m not a victim of such words today. I am naked indeed.

I stand bare to the eyes that pry for bits and pieces of my life that doesn’t really matter to them. I am a gossip. I’m a pointless banter to replenish the emptiness of hearts with those wandering eyes. I stand stripped for the darkness in the hearts to ponder and sneer at perceived intent. I stand as a lamb to the butcher’s sharpened knife of manipulation and sheep clothed kindness. I do feel exposed.

Exposed yes.There is no flutter in my heart though. I’m not swayed by opinions that my ears would never get to hear. I’m not worried of the pointing fingers that my backs cannot see. I’m far too beaten in my spirit to feel that pain again. The thing is, I’m more hurt by what I’ve pretended to be so far.


I wondered about the pretending part. Was I pretending for an acceptance from a judgmental flood of folks around me? Did I want to appear normal and prove that there was harmony and angels singing with a harp in heaven? Now that I think about it, I’m sure it wasn’t that.


It’s a funny world. Choices we make and repercussions the people connected to us face, keeps us shying away from standing strong , courageous and naked to the world.  I guess today I’m all set to shatter that chain that holds me a hostage. I take no shame in being in pain. I’ve deserved a spot to endure my suffering. I take no shame in saying that I feel broken. I’ve deserved a spot to brave this ruptured spirit.


Hence naked. I accept where I am today. I acknowledge how I got here. I recognize my tears and suffering. I still brave to take control of my life even at this lowest point in my life. Why? Coz I’ve braved being a naked man. Through fears and definite backlash, I chose the road that I chose. Through darkness and void, I chose this road that I chose. At this brink of emptiness, I don’t have a heart filled with regrets. I dare to dream. I’m already naked. What else is left of me to get stripped of?


Anger. Ask a man a tale of his tears who has yielded the blade of wrath. There is no redemption. There is no regret anymore. There is only a tomorrow and a courage to speak of the ills that anger holds. For I’m the naked man who has an albatross draped across my soul.




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