|Courtesy : Wisie.com|
Compassion and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. I was all of four when I tried to save half a dozen fish from drowning. As I was engaged in the earnest endeavour, dragging them out of the school water tank with a stick, I fell in the pool of freezing water. I was trying my best to drown when an insensitive lout of a school peon pulled me out. Instead of being nominated for bravery awards and made to sit atop an elephant on Republic Day, I was taken to the Principal’s office.
Let me announce at the onset that this is a pointless post. In fact I don’t even know what I am going to write about. Aren’t there times when you venture out for a walk and have no idea where you are heading? You just know you want to be outside, so you inhale the scent of the Hasnuhana trees, admire the striking couple that passes you by, pat the Labrador as it looks at you with those lugubrious eyes. You don’t have to keep a tab on the kilometres you walk, no calories to burn, no destination to reach. Aimlessness can be liberating - it frees you from expectations and you have no disappointments to fear. I wish life could be like that.
Today I will let my thoughts meander. I have no news to share, no point to make, I may not make you laugh, but I still invite you to join me on this journey. It’s no fun being on your own.
Nostalgia is a seductive mistress. How often have we huddled together with friends and family and dipped into the vat of collective memories for some succour. We laugh ourselves silly, sometimes blame each other for unspoken torment and invariably end up confessing our so called misdemeanours. Like the time when my Dadu banned me from reading the Godfather and I still went ahead and read it. At thirteen when I tried shaping my eyebrows, I ended up snipping away half of it. For weeks I faced the world looking like Spock from Star Trek. Every time Ma said No to me, I went ahead and did it. They were my small victories and I cherished each one of them.
I was always restless, I still am. My daughter tells me she gets tired just looking at me. I can’t sit still, I can rarely relax and always need something to keep me occupied. I work myself to exhaustion and crib about it. Is it because I am scared to face the eternal ‘what next’? Is it because I have no clue what it’s going to be? Of course I know what I will be eating for lunch and dinner for the next seven days – that’s how organized I am. But I do wish that I could let go. Surrender myself and let time take me wherever it wants to. Not be consumed with a sense of guilt about wasting it.