Not Just Another Post

My imagination seems to be sinking and i'm again falling into my gloomy habits of thinking...................thinking about a person, to whom i can dedicate nothing more than an elegy, but even that looks impossible in the present circumstances. " Silence ", for most part of his lifetime, was his constant companion. He understood the value of silence in its true meaning, and once advised me not to confuse introverts with dumb people coz someday the silence would break into an explosion of immense energy and would not settle for anything less than " good ". I cant force myself into any reasoning which would establish the utility of the eternal silence which he has retreated into, and yet i cannot possibly deny the truth in his words. I am slowly beginning to value silence, coz it has finally dawned on me that even truth may be damaged by too many words.


His absence from the world seldom affected my cogitations in the beginning and it was largely becoz of my personal denial of his absence, but it wasnt late enough when reality struck me hard on the face, and my thought process began to dwell in the shadows of memories and conversations. Nothing could divert me from the past, for the thought of him never left me alone. I'm still struggling to strike a balance between what 'was' and what 'is', and the stuggle will continue till i find an outlet or a solution to this mental agony.


However, my thought process has shown signs of improvement in these two years. The day seems to pass without a single thought of him haunting me, but at night on turning off the lights his thoughts do return to me, and on dayz like this, when the magnitude of all the thoughts and memories stretch beyond the purlieu of my resistance, i sit down to pen them coz there's hardly any other way of de-stressing at my immediate disposal. " Writing ", somewhat subsides and exhausts the agony and gives way to periods of calm and peace. It is clear, i think, that it was love for a real person, however transient it may have been.


Here i'm reminded of these lines by Vijay Tendulkar


" There are times when one's life appears to be a stage. People come, people go. They come in order to go, and go with no intent of return. When they return they return as one's past. A past that would make you feel that the present is false. "


Now Playing:: Pukarta chala hoon main....................Rafi