Our ability to emote is a variable widget in our lives. It’s preinstalled but comes in to use depending upon the circumstances and the kind of people we are surrounded by. I, conspicuously and by finesse of nature, am not an emotional creature. But, moments of poignancy does take its toll. When it did evolve this week, I was stranded precariously. And to my fluid pride, my battle with human relationships continues to amaze me.
I believe, places have souls. Cities breath a different aura of tenacity and I get myself constantly sucked in to it’s culture. The same feeling waved along as my third visit to the Charminar city plunges in to some fine moments of my life.
I am not a person who solemnises ceremonies. I conduct myself to the highest order, when confronted with one though. And this time, my presence was a prerogative as I watched my little angel getting in to a holy movement of quick distress and vital fulfilment. I wasn’t very me as the usual phonetics embedded within me gave away to the little one’s grimaces. All well, alright, but for me, it was a resident feeling. Never do I let myself in for such occasions but this one invited itself for a rare celebration and my obligation was customary.
I felt like adulthood was basking itself in such organic gestures and once more, I salute the DNAs for drafting what’s inherent of myself. Being so very human.
I realise that despite our all conquering attitude and pervasive capabilities, we, as human beings, are susceptible at different strata of our lives. And life, to our utmost savouries, ceases to relinquish the mightiest of all.
Nuances and subjugations of life have been my greatest teacher, and undeniably, the force behind the man I am. Eminently, it would probably be true for each one of you. The more I see events scraping past us with a reverent sense of elation and grief, the more convinced I am about the forecast management of our lives. Honestly, such a phenomenon doesn’t exist. And even if it does, it’s invisible proportions are too stark for the minuscule yet powerful inhibitions of man to gauge and propel.
The invincible has its own contagious flaws, the champion is still prone to relinquish his dominance during his lifetime, an angel might still be required to stall it’s existence within the realms of heaven and the richest might not always relish the sojourn of quantum wealth.
I am not the one to travel down the ire and feed myself to anonymity, but at times, I wish to remain candid about my own credentials.
Seldom, but intended with famished hearts of courageous perils.
Beware, I am not talking about broken hearts here. Neither am I redundant enough to talk about those acquaintances that never cease to exist. Probably, trying to venture out on those moments when you feel that ‘not working out’ is a blessing in disguise.
I believe in relationships that selflessly caress through it’s rugged path to establish trust and bonding. At times, probably, it doesn’t work. Better said, we as human beings, are prone to get insecure every now and then. In a quest to make things work and get everything arranged in a package of unheard perfection, we miss out on those little thing things in life, that predominantly make things work. Alas, no wonder, our relationships get thicker with dormant energy.
Some relationships are better foregone. Cats and dogs, Osama and Bush, India and Pakistan, Mahatma and Jinnah, Australia and England. I realise the ones listed are honest protagonists as well but we cannot ignore the audacity of those characters in terms of a bilingual and monopolistic attention.
Let’s not derive solutions of out of this extract. My works tend to become courageously naive and distinguished at times. But honestly, we all need to work towards building our relationships towards a positive future.
The past few days of my life has been spent in an advent of crucial veracity; and a feeling within that says that you might be the blessed one with all the ingredients of a perfect plateau. There isn’t one, but I might be the closest to it.
A brilliant Saturday afternoon coupled with eternal memories shared amongst my school inmates did emit more than just the syndrome of nostalgic aberration. The sea beaches in Digha meant that my ride in the mysterious and elated circumstances would come to an end soon. Humans are a bundle of the 3 Es: Ego, Expectation and Ecstasy. Those convulsions are contagious and tend to remain within you lest you try to (rather you do!) segment them in acceptable packages.
And, not to forget, relationships have always bothered me, for good. Few continue to stun me with their sumptuous affection and sometimes wonder to believe that most of our precious adversaries would never be your own unless their ass is below the nutshell and require intervention to break open.
Fine moments get etched as diamonds but significantly, allows you the courageous bandwidth to sustain such magical intercourse.
Similar to those gigantic arms of the picturesque ‘Vidhyasagar Setu’, we are occupied in designed packages of corrigible quantities: the greatest of powers besieged collide, reverberate and retreat to marry successful sojourns.