Poignant - Complacency

Rain, has a meaning different for everyone. It takes one to the reverie of some shared reclused moments, away from reality to a land far far away,to a time that held still then. Now these moments seem so far fetched, in an alien land which is out of reach and like old photographs, these memories also seem to get blurry but sometimes the memories closest to one's heart are the ones one remembers distinctly, so distinctly that even the stark reality fades away in the shadows. 

Rain, often burgeons upon one, bringing along those mighty grey clouds, showering over thunder and lightening, growing over you, belittling you in its rage and making you delve into all those things that hurt you and gave you pain, making you remember those dark times, where you never want to go back to, not in your thoughts, never in your dreams and fills your heart with sorrow.

Rain, for me brings along all the ambivalence as it promises to. The uncertainty over who outwits the other - the proud clouds by pouring over or the valiant wind by sweeping over them. It is such a tiff - literally and metaphorically. It arouses so many emotions - some that have remained dormant for long, it brings up so many unanswered questions, those that remained unanswered for the time to unfold the replies. 

Yet, through all of it I wonder how the changes affect us, how a particular thing can be dreaded by some and yet desperately awaited by some. Perhaps nature has its own strange ways to make wonders happen.

Purging the ephemeral

I always used to take life as it is,absorbed by the mundanity of it, yet planning ahead as far as my mind could take me. I somehow enjoyed the gaeity of one huge happy family, the fun of being one among the crowd. Life seemed to just go on as usual, and I had no role to play in the course of life. Soon everything just seemed to disappear slowly, a lot stopped mattering any more and I suddenly felt quite strange, quite unlike me and yet a lot like me. I realized many things, one of it being the fact that you stay the same person, the inherent qualities remaining the same, but situations change your perception on several matters.

Life, as I often say, is a journey, something that gradually started sinking in. When I think of the most beautiful journey I had, I realized that the actual beauty was in not knowing what lay ahead, the unpredictability to an extent is what makes life beautiful. The same unpredictability ironically frightens me too, especially when I've lived through it. Faith is a very vital aspect of existence, it is something that breathes life in you when you are at the fag end of life, keeping you alive,reminding you the reason of your existence. I remember when I was there, climbing up those mighty mountains, I could feel my heart beat, feel myself alive as I had never felt before. Looking down from those heights, seeing the stream flow into a river, hear the sound of gushing water and then looking up at the wide sky extending all over me, feeling the clouds closer than I could have ever imagined was frightening because it made me completely aware of myself, of how I am just a tiny, miniscule part of a vast universe. It was faith that kept me alive, as it has always. 

This long journey, involves a lot of travelling, a lot of searching, a lot of experiencing and moreover a lot of learning.

Life gives me opportunities to believe in dreams, and faith makes it possible to live those dreams. Certain things take so long to develop and require efforts to sustain while other phenomenon are so effortless and easy, so natural like the flow of water, the merging of the rivers into sea, like that is the only way to be. The moment I started looking at life as a journey, a lot changed, for the better, I learnt to let go of certain things and hold on to certain things. Eventually it is moments that make life,not the breaths I take. The ability to feel and think is what makes me, me.There is a lot to thank God for, the blossoming flowery path as well as the dry and arid path with boulders and rubble because that is when my faith is tested the most. I travel, thus, sometimes coming to a fork,deciding which path to choose, treading along, discovering all that life has to offer, sometimes through dark passages, sometimes through roller-coaster rides, alone and yet not alone.

The storms unknown

The wild, west wind, we learnt in school, blew and brought along many changes. Storms come unannounced, causing massive destruction before they are gone and then nothing stays the same ever. Sometimes the storm is needed,even Shelley admits to the fact that the west wind destroyed everything in its course of blowing, yet it made way for the new and the fresh to come to life. Storms pass but not without teaching us, although leaving us lamenting over the loss. 

It is one stormy affair - life! It engulfs you. 

Yet it leaves me with some truths unfathomable. Seeking answers has never been easy, the harder you try, the farther you are from the truth. 

Then the storm goes away, leaving behind silence, a dreadful silence but it leaves a storm within me - conflicting ends, a thought contrasting a want, a wish contrasting a reality, a desire contrasting a will, and I am torn between what I were and what I have come to become. I often wait for it to settle down but I don't realize it can be stirred again with the slightest of touch, creating a storm, volatile in nature.

Eventually it wreaks havoc, such a havoc where I'm unable to recognize my own self.

That's why they say, storms come unannounced, causing massive destruction before they are gone and then nothing stays the same ever.

Self musings

I remember as a child illusions were always so fascinating, they caught my attention. Curiosity always took me there. The unknown is more than often intriguing and inviting but not necessarily pleasant. I think in my cobweb of thoughts, I was always building illusions and chasing them, for it was quite fascinating looking at a world filled with attractive things like illusions. Then after a while they just stopped persisting for me, it was about time I realized illusions were attractive but not permanent, not real and only gave a false respite. 

Now when I live in reality, I find that life is often not what you think it is, it is a long journey, sometimes a tiresome one, sometimes an adventurous one, sometimes a happy one....sometimes predictable and sometimes full of surprises. Life never stops making me wonder what is it?!

Sometimes life is like living a dream

hazy yet so clear

intangible yet so real

happy without a tinge of sorrow

Like the feeling of helplessness...

...the feeling of love

Pondering

I often wonder if the choices I made were right after all? Most of the times they seem to be fine and I seem to be content enough for making those choices. However there are some moments, some situations that arise out of the blue and make me question myself whether whatever I did was wrong?  Then I almost believe it to be a wrong choice and then after a while, rethink over it....

I remember as a kid mom used to read out stories to me, one of the stories that I remember too well as it was read out to me several times by mom and my teacher at school and which I read myself too was the story of the shepherd who cried 'wolf'. What I and, I guess everyone remembers most vividly is the fact that when the real wolf came and the shepherd cried for help, there was nobody paying heed to him. Isn't that what happens in reality too? When you put up with lies time and again, you start finding the truth also to be a lie. 

I remember hearing mom say you can never impose love. It is something that happens and when it happens, it happens inevitably, capturing you. She always said whenever people you love wander off to the wrong path, you warn them, you stop them and if they still continue taking steps ahead in the same direction, you leave them on their own. If they love you, they shall come back to you and if they don't come back, they never loved you. Funny as it sounds, the people I loved always came back, got caught by wanderlust and were off for a while, coming back again and going off again. I wonder what is that called!?! 

....so when I ponder over the appropriateness of the choices I made, all I think is - be it truth or no truth, it shall always be a lie to me

Self musings

Every change brings along a feeling,that's novel - fear, apprehensions, hope, anxiety, excitement, happiness.

Sometimes the change is too abrupt, not giving any scope for preparation. Sometimes the change is slow and gradual and sometimes it is too subtle to be realized. There's a strange thing about changes, they change a lot of things. As funny as it sounds and as true as it gets. 

Every time the path ahead seems bleak,one needs to consider going ahead. Sometimes there seems to be nothing to move you ahead, and with an already ambiguous journey so far, one starts weighing each step ahead. Many times I think there's a child's heart still beating somewhere deep down there, which enables me to love easily and give in easily too. Life is about facing the ugly truths all the time, living with a past, parts of which one would like erasing out completely. With innumerable efforts relations are built and memories created and within seconds a void created to last a lifetime. 

There's so much that has changed around me, and , about me and yet a lot is still the same. Initially it was quite a task to recognize what is me from the fragments scattered all around. Now I've realized each fragment has me within. Change takes place, changing the course of life as it must happen, leaving one with a realization. It almost seems like a story book, chapter after chapter, one after another, twists and turns, climax and conclusion....

Voids don't only exist when you lose a person, they also exist when you lose a relation forever. When things can never stay the same any more, when memories cannot be summoned at or erased out at one's will, when you reach a point of numbness  and indifference in the conscious stage and yet your dreams seem to know your heart better, it is then, you know a void exists. 

....and yet, nothing is like a story book. Story books have predictable stories and hopefulness or hopelessness , having happy endings or sad endings but life, is never predictable. It is a long, long journey, to an unknown destination, the destination always changing with time, as the path keeps changing too. Yet, I believe in fairy tales, that convinvce me to believe in love, goodness, hope, and faith. Somehow, strangely enough, life eventually comes down to the most simplistic path, after a long arduous journey full of complications. 

Entangled

It is such a beautiful feeling, having something entirely to your own self, like the only strength against all odds. Is it possible though? There is always a thread connecting people and situations, creating associations and building relationships. The same thread over which nobody has a control. 

Origin is a creation of some phenomenon, it can never happen by itself like some miracle. Isn't it strange that before we are born, our destinies are decided, relations are already made? Then we just have to live with all of it, we are brought up with pre conceived notions until we grow up and decide whether we want to take it further or stop right there. Throughout your life you put up with destined relations, having little choice to choose, even the basis of the choices made are coloured....eventually there is nothing that is your own. However I think there is a thin line difference there. I think there is control that you can exert even if it is a wee bit,there are changes accompanied with growing up. Not only people but even situations change the way we perceive, the way we think. Of course everything is eventually associative and relative. 

Even while thinking about this I feel there are the never ending shades of grey that are perpetually existing, sometimes very subtly and sometimes hovering over. To reach the point of differentiation between the black and the white is a struggle within itself and then once you are there you feel was it worth it? Sometimes towards the end the shades of grey that you hated are the ones you perhaps get used to and decide to live with and sometimes you just feel the choice to have the blacks and whites a tough one in spite of the efforts to get there. 

Life is, nothing but strange, surprising me time and again. Many times I wish for a miraculous origin,detached from any strings and wonder how strange life would be then! Yet, when I think of some of the most beautiful memories I've been able to build through things that were destined, I wonder if I would have them again? Or if I would be me again with a miraculous origin, without any pre-conceived notions and associations! The possibilities seem limited but somehow I've realized that the thin line differentiating the two worlds doesn't exist profoundly and how can it even exist? For making choices and destiny go hand in hand. Bliss can be promising when perceived well. 

Sometimes it is a bane and sometimes a boon to live life as destined, though the option of making choices is always there,but I continue to search for that thin line of difference,no matter how thin it is.