Just when I was about to post advertisements for my lost pet dinosaur, a friend met up after six years. This friend told me something which I have not heard in a long time.
Do not waste yourself.
And here I was thinking that I'm wasted already. Go, figure.
This particular friend also brought up a morsel of memory which was fogged over. Mainly (fogged over, and later brought up) because it is laughable. I shall now recount the tale. About a decade ago, when I had a computer to call my own for the first time, I was so hopeful that there is intelligent extraterrestrial life waiting to pop out from the night sky, that I worked so that I could chip in to a part of the phone bill (Yes, we had a dialup connection, then) just so that I could contribute to the SETI programme. In my defence, I grew up on LEGOs, Transformers and video games and so it seemed reasonable at the time. And this was also before I happened to read Calvin's (of Calvin and Hobbes fame) perspective on the matter.
This also happens to be the period when I was fairly certain that it was just a matter of time before I find out which species I really belong to.
It is curious how we grow up. Knotted, tangled, and constantly sounding just like the build up to an advertisement for leave-in conditioner. But there is no punchline. Ever. I could have written this and several other posts like good people do. In one swift motion of grace, from beginning to the end, containing a gradient of meaning and coherence. But I choose not to. I choose to explore the gnarly way where one spews word after word and paints outside the lines, and leaves spaces inside. Would the rain be as nice if it fell in simplistically ordered patterns?
Just when you think all matters of good and evil and beyond have been debated and resolved in your head, you feel like taking something new and putting it through your system and realize that everything needs redecoration. It is just activity. It prevents atrophy of moral genesis.
If we have ever met, you know that chances are I will make you laugh and make you walk and make you feel wanted and needed. I think it is important to do this. It is an important exercise in making the world nice for a small amount of time, and it helps in sorting people. Laughing at the same joke for different reasons is usually a good place to start the proverbial line that must be drawn somewhere.
I like walking a lot, a lot. I miss the sea, I miss travelling. Ah, firaaq, what would we be if it were not for you?
I forsook magic for a long time. I blink in and out of it now because we must, at the end of the day, retreat into ourselves no matter what the world demands of us. You must listen to what I am trying to say here.
The paralysis of choice can be deafening, but do choose.
Do not waste yourself.
8 comments:
Dhruva and aliens exist together in too many sentences.
We shall miss the D-man.
Is this Salt Lake person the homeopathy doctor who treated you for the brain disease?
ahh... good lesson to be learned. Thank you!
im writing lots too these days which feels very liberating. but why do you ask other people to choose/be active while you yourself retreat or limit yourself or mourn about the past? or maybe i misunderstood
@Dibbers: Yes. And yes.
@Raaji: You are welcome.
@Jiya: Mourn is not the word. I am merely documenting, even celebrating. The past is inherently melancholy, and thus often rends this pallor to text. Do you blog?
no. thats not me although i do like reading some blogs. but no im writing a book, THE book. who was it that says that everyone has at least one book in them! ha i probably made that up. and...celebration is good. but moving on is even better. and sometimes the lessons that bad times teach are best forgotten because theres a whole other world out there. take care
Let us know when that is done. Would love to read.
Every now and then, I love you completely.
And then I want to descend into pulling your cheeks mercilessly and making choking-kitten noises.
That's what your species does to me.
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