Guess, We all ,at one point in our life, have to leave it aside and move on. Pack our bags and leave. Walking down the memory lane, bidding farewell to our past. Standing on the ledge, I feel at ease looking down the precipice. I can end it all in a split second.I take a step forward, nearing the ledge. The chasm is too deep for my eyes to see. Its like my future nebulous , dark and gloomy. I want to free myself from the shackles of the past. Into the oblivion I take my one last step forward , for a split second, i could see the pictures from my past, seen through a kaleidoscope of my own past, my love , friends and every single person I have ever known looking at me,their faces reflecting a thousand cliched emotions asking me to stay on. I smile at them, I cant have them back, can I? Well I should just move on. The air is damp, and the rain lurking not so far away, memories still holding me back. The trips, the get-togethers, the laughs, the clasps of hands, will miss all of that. Getting forever entangled in the memory of the past is dangerous than the cliff in front of me.If I go down, I end it all. I forever free myself from my memories. Nothing to bound me, nothing to hold on to, nothing to hope for ….free at-last. But is it worth losing everything in a second of madness?
May 19, 2010
Music…..
Sitting here listening to the music, the mind transcends into a different dimension…..Flashing Lights, rustling of leaves as the wind blows , moving through time, images of yore drifting through my mind … want to settle down,legs give away I fall down ..the strings of the violin resonate to produce the most sensual of sounds,clouding the mind with kaleidoscopic transitory images of Life. The woman singing in the song is smiling at me,with her depressing yet seductive smile,I could feel her through her voice. The sound of her breath, heaving down on her bosom and the beat of the drums feels like her heartbeat. Transforming those chords of the guitar into rhythmic beat of our hearts, tantalizing the senses that lie deep inside, arousing them into feelings comprehensible to oneself, triggering the memories on which we forever pamper with, expanding our realms of imagination, to break free from the present.
Move On .. My Dear
Nostalgia, a far cry to all the loved ones in a past we refuse to give up. A clichéd expression, eclipsing the crescent of happiness we could have reached , if we just moved on with life. Stuck in the weeds,still slipping, losing the grip, we live our life’s on a dangerous foreplay of attachments and commitments. Moving on, never seems to be the easiest thing. Wish I could have been less human to escape unhurt through the intricacies of human emotions. Hope, the only reason we slip through life, each day in and out. A hope, that tomorrow could be better. The clasp of our friend`s hand on our shoulders, assuring life is still to be lived and lost better than not lived at all…….
Silent we remain, moving through the streams of Life…destiny forever lurks in our shadows, until we hit the darkness…when the shadow collapses..
May 10, 2010
An Invitation To An Old College Friend Of Mine
Dated : 2nd December 2012
Hello,
Hope you are doing fine. I was waiting for your call today. Some people live in the past thinking about the past few years that defined their later life. Images of these people, who shaped my little insignificant life into something that was worth living, conjure a thousand reveries to fall into. Just 15 minutes more to midnight before the clocks ticks away my 26th birthday. I ask myself. “Am I a Happy person?”. Happiness for me is an emotion long lost in the midst of this calloused life. Sitting in this large room painted with the same greyness that mirrors my heart, am getting more money stuffed into my pockets each month than i had ever dreamed of. Well should not that make me a happy person ? Tried pushing out the past from my head and pushing the present in , but in vain. Had been through vagaries of relationships only to find the ones i took for granted the most sincere. I never realized what I had done 6 years back when I pushed everyone of you out of life, when I got the so-called better people in my lives. New places and people away from everything that had ever bounded me, free in my own world, free from everything that predefined me , I set out to find the new and the better. That very journey took me so far away from each of you. Life has been a roller coaster ride at each high i cry out loud only to realize none could hear me. My phone is ringing now , it`s my fiancé calling me. I wont be taking that call. She has arranged a party for me the coming weekend in one of the most expensive hotels in Bangalore – The Leela Palace. Well this mail is partly to invite you and our old college gang to the party . I guess , by the time you read this mail , the party will be over. So I cordially invite to my party hosted by my fiancé. Six years back, you could barge into my party and get drunk anytime even if I were not there. Well now am writing you a formatted letter with a subject head to invite the closest and the best friends i ever had.
I got a half – full bottle of johnny walker whiskey on my desk(its not half empty mind you, fortunately this rotten monotony still has not eaten away my optimism). Every time i pour myself a glass ,i raise a toast to all the good times we had in vijaya and then in Bangalore. Well all this alcohol is making me scribble mere rhetorics about long lost friendships. What did my two year stint in IIM- B give me? A handsome paycheck (something 99 % of the people would only dream of), at the of each month?. I always ask myself if this is what i really wanted and when i look at my fiancé and her family i doubt if she ever really loved me or the money churning machine which I become at the end of each month.I always have problems ending things i started off doing, like this formal invitation , you always feel you could have had a better ending . But like this feeling which still lingers, I have a strong feeling that the roots of our relationship are way deep down en grafted into our hearts or maybe its the alcohol in me making me talk crap.
Regards,
Kiran
