One Year of Frisson

Someday around this time of the year a small virtual space was created and I became its owner, trying to puke words at some regular pace. Yet at that time I thought I was simply playing, that in the keeping of memories and writing up of experience I was expressing a non-existent side of myself. Still, I lacked the gall to speak my mind, and that thing about, “being true to oneself”, continues to elude me. FRISSON, became a product of my period in parenthesis, and how many of us actually care to read the things written in parenthesis. Well, I don’t!!

Honestly, there was never an urge to let the world know what I think; I like the warmth of the cocoon around me. However, the need to express gratitude to a person who has been the proof and touchstone of all my thoughts was immense; hence the blog and its strange attitude.

All the swindlers treading the earth are nothing when compared to the self-swindlers, and this space bubbles with such evidences. For some body who fancies fashionable phraseology, the truth remains buried in half-explained gestures and words, but the true purpose- seldom attained.

I hardly have any grand swelling theories to attract or to interest you deeply and thoroughly. This space certainly doesn’t define me and what you see here is merely a passing alter-ego. Even the fixed stars at first waver and coruscate, and require long seasons for their consummation and final settlement. I’m no different!!

Until then…..Happy Blogging!!

Now Playing:: Roz roz aankhon tale………….Asha & Amit kumar

Life Mein Kabhi Kabhi...

“ I feel I shall remember him to the last day of my life. He would haunt me perpetually. I am like a woman who has been falling in love unknown to herself, which she finds out when the man has left the lady forever.” Ah me! I thought they were high and great emotions.

Period.

Well readers, its just too difficult to document the reasons of my absence from this space and with a mind almost atrophied by the lack of use, things are getting too heavy to lift. Moreover, scattered wits do take a long time in picking up; and often, before I had got them together, they would get dispersed in all directions by some stray thoughts. You realize that a mind thus constructed is partially lame or torpid, with the sensations and infirmities all at rest. But, having said that, there’s also a queer feeling of happiness dwelling within for reasons probably known and unknown.

There were little twinges of panic too. Not the panic of being lost or lonely, but the sudden panic of being “complete”. I know, documentation of this kind is difficult to comprehend par kya karen, emotions and words do not hang together. Ah! Where can I find all those flutes and saxophones amidst the furniture of “words.”

Its strange that I should be in want of phrases to express, when “real” life doesn’t require any. Its probably those little smarting sensations in the brain which come when one has made peace with oneself ( though temporary ), and destroyed every vestige of past vanities.

Maybe, I’ve managed to return to this space as a healthier being.

Now Playing:: Deewana hua badal………..Rafi & Asha