rambling bullshit…

Posted on | August 20, 2007 | No Comments

these days i get tired of life at a sort of,indecent, pace.somethings never apparently change,and yet they change far more profoundly in subtle manners..this is the story of the unhappy prince relived yet again,written by me a long time ago,in another life,discussed with my roomie three nights ago,and being lived out again,all for no apparent reason at all,and yet proving the corollary to the above mentioned theory,that some things may,for all appearances,change profoundly,and yet,in essence,remain the same..for example,my life,and the way i live it.arbitrary patterns.

so, though i would not be one to use the word profound that lightly,all that is happening to me,is perhaps way beyond what i i can understand.they say there was once a prince who did all he could do benefit others,even after his death,and as his corollary,i have been doing all i can do to bring harm onto me,while i am alive,and i dont even have the sparrow to help me;so the task is all that much tougher on me..

but we have moved on..and yet we are staying under the same place,and the pieces of my heart lie still on the concrete pathway under the shade of that tree (whatever it was,i did not have the time to notice the details) where you shattered it pieces that fine day of september so many years ago..(adapting rather shamelessly from n sarna’s we were not lovers like that”)..and through it all i had been surviving rather valiantly,by retaining a grip on my sense of humor,even though isolated,detached from friends and family and enemies(yes,i did have a few of them..more than a few maybe) and perhaps that is what alarms me…i am losing my grip on something i used to clutch so desperately to my bosom all those years..i am losing my sense of humor,twisted or warped or dark though it might have been,it was all that waged me through those years of life and simultaneous death,and now i am losing it and so i am worried..i am losing my grip on life…earlier at least i could smile..now it a strain to even curl my lips so much without bitter sarcasm dripping into the gesture..i have been avoiding friends and deliberately shunning society now for a week,and though the act in itself does not bother me,the fact that people have begun to notice it,does.

i go back again and again to that september early afternoon when we buried our relationship over so much concrete of that road under the shade of whatever tree that was(i was too busy to notice details) and i have not yet stopped wondering in all these years since at how normal a day it was..a gentle sunshine and a light drizzle,the drops glistening off the leaves and the earth just that little bit moist to allow the smells of life to waft up to tickle the nostrils..the setting was so perfect we might have had a rainbow that day,and it would not have been incongruous..and yet it was not the day when our two souls would meet in calm repose..how unlike a day of turmoil did it seem without all the pouring rain and deafening thunderclaps and blinding lightening…but then bollywood has always had a touch of theatrical,and real life is not..truth is stranger than fiction they say…it perhaps also is sadder and more lonely than any poem i will ever write…

for it was with no highly strung emotionally wracked wildly flunged words that we strangled the beautiful child that might have been born-our love..it might have,to all intents and purposes,been a roadside chat..where two acquaintances stop by for a moment to discuss the weather..and wasnt that how it was?you with an expressionless,emotionless face telling me something i had known all along;and i,with an equally stone faced expression,listening to you,and then walking away without any reply…did you ever understand that i did not reply because a reply would have been superfluous?did you ever realise that it took me three long years to realise the simple fact that it could have and should have never happened?three long years drenched in alcohol and punctuated with recurrent nightmares of what i had missed..three long years during which i would either refuse to go home or wake out all my nights back at home for fear that somebody would hear me talking in my sleep and know of the pain that i was nursing so silently,hidden to the world that recognised me as ice-cold-except for a bunch of unknown,unseen virtual people,friends and foes,who read what i had to write,shared my pain,and i could share my pain because these people were not in my real world for which i acted out the role..deadpan arrogant strong emotionally stable-the guy who did not hurt..strength strength..you cannot let your weaknesses be shown to the world..you can not have a chink in the armour..all those smoke and mirrors..castles in the air..such a terrible waste..

and so i lose interest in life..you are a boring topic now,as incidental as the weather..and yet,so much that the weather is incidental,if you are caught in a hailstorm,it will still hurt..incidental…and incidentally meaningful are two different things..and so while i have learnt enough to move on..theory and practice are two different things indeed..and so..indecent as it may seem..i still lose interest…in life..as i did in you…death does seem to have its positives at times,and if it were not so cowardly and irreversible a proposition,i might even try it out..but then..i might not like it…irreversible decisions are usually unpleasant..and so i live for comfort now…even my reading has been affected by it..i read crap thrillers when i plan to real walden again..i seek for tom clancy when i have yeats beside me…a life has been wasted and the new one must be wasted to..time demands returns..and so i quite easily lose interest in life..almost at an indecent pace.

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