Flower Sketch

Retrace and Explore

A fine morning, it occurred to me as if i should try doing it which i left after my childhood. Nothing special - just retracing those paths.

GV - 12th Aug 2010

Something is broken

Its hard to recollected things when you don't know what all is shattered within you. You try to forget the past... try to say to yourself that the bygone is gone but, your mind doesn't listen to you. Every time you try to forget the past, you remember it more. So much of wishes get buried down in the sands of time only to rise like a phoenix time and again. You try to get rid of them, run away of them but, it becomes your shadow... whether you want it or don't want, it walks with you and constantly reminds you about those incidents. Your try to keep yourself busy in other activities, you engage yourself with outside world but, it does not help. From some corner of your eye, you see it standing behind you and smiling sarcastically on your condition - Look at the poor guy, he is trying to forget something which was his soul a few hours back. The coordination between mind, body and soul is lost. Body is indulged in some other physical activity, mind is trying hard to forget the past but, look at the heart - all its pieces cry in unison not allowing you to listen to the other two. The harder the blow, more the pieces and more are the cries.

The scarlet sun in the evening takes you back to those days when everything was alright... as you wanted. The night falls outside just to remind you that this darkness will not end with the next morning. The sun shines and teases you that his light is not for you... it can't reach the closest within you. Each hour passes like you are walking through centuries. You know what you have lost... but, then you say it was never yours. You try to renounce things, this world... want to take a dip into the sea of your fond memories... you want to relive them... fix whatever has gone awry. As they say, time heals all the wounds... does it? You see yourself in the mirror and try to say those words to yourself - you feel like crying... your fist clinches, you want to hit the mirror hard... its not about the mirror but, its more about yourself. And then you see yourself in those pieces of mirror, you see yourself broken into thousand pieces... pieces which you won't be able to recollect.

Time doesn't heal those wounds, it just gives you thousand others so that you can forget this one.

Irony of being vocal

Life sometimes give you happiness only to take it away before you realize that you had it. It is like, loosing an unfought war or, giving away something which was never yours. You cry that why didn't you say it? You knew it, you knew the way it was going to end but, still you could not help it. Sometimes, the words are just short to express yourself. Words which are meant to say your feelings, your emotions, your expressions... fall short of their credibility. Your voice stops, throat dries, mind abandons you... and finally you just walk away without uttering a single word which you wanted to say. You lose it, you bang your head on the wall, your eyes water... and it occurs that there is an irony of being vocal. The ugliest, the least expected happens. You just stand there alone in the darkness, empty handed like you have lost not only what you wanted but yourself also. It grips you like a snake and you feel like being strangulated... You want to cry, to shout but then the mind says - it's you who made it happen, you who didn't have courage to ask for what you wanted... Your two selves emerge - one criticizing the other for his cowardliness while other self just listening to it.

It betrays you when you need it most.

It is all lost. All your ambitions, aspirations, dreams... shattered by one stroke of this undone state of your mind. You know you can't fix it. You want to repent for your mistake but, how to do it... You don't know. Time doesn't stay at one place, similar to our heart. You want to go back to that moment but, Alas! you can't. Such an emptiness, void you have never felt in your life. There is no body to listen to you but, you keep talking to yourself. You want to move ahead from it but, the thought is not leaving you. You want to become quite, silent but, words... like a boomerang... come back to you. For that moment, you want to be alone... lose your words but, see the irony of being vocal - it doesn't leave you then.