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my old album.............

The heavenly fragrance of the celibate earth waits for life to be rejuvenated. The first shower of the season brings life to the thirsty earth.  I sit alone, sipping my cup of coffee. And I see the drizzle outside.  
My careless beauty reflects on the mirror. Time has taken hold of everything. My innocent eyes now have the glimpse of promise and trust. My loneliness has made me understand my strengths. My fears have turned to challenges. Darkness brings in new light.
My eyes fall on to the old personal album that lies between my books and papers untouched. I pull it out in a moment’s impulse.  Childhood days, schooldays, college, friends, and birthdays.............my engagement...........my marriage..........
 I let my thoughts flow through me uninterrupted. A sudden furore shattered my world to pieces. I battle out a reason every night. I figure out an explanation every day. It simply remains unanswered.
I have treasured the album which barely holds the real picture in them. The pictures are getting tampered with time.  While the truth of every moment remain captivated in my memories. These pictures remain unwashed, undeveloped, unspoken and unforgettable.   
In life we are only accompanied with our self accumulated thoughts. The best of thoughts are never given the voice. The saddest of moments are never brought out through tears. The best of feelings only remain our fantasies. Yes, but we all claim to live our life. The life which we all know is the most fake, captivated, dominated my external forces. We silently bear the grievances of those mistakes to which we have no contribution. Get awarded for those which are mere coincidences. At times the best of tune should remain without lyrics and best of words remain a simple poem.  
In short this is the truth of life which people avoid to recognise. The other day, while I was watching the bangle movie “Antaheen” I felt as if Aparna Sen was playing my role. Why do choose Ego or Escape? Is there no other option?  I recollect a famous dialogue from some movie “Life is strange and people are stranger.”
As the drizzles now gets loud, lashing on the window. The faint light gets blanketed in darkness. The misty evening makes me realise my pleasure had been in my pain. Never thinking even once in the process that the shelter I had cocooned myself into was becoming my own grave. The flow that had swept everything off, ebbed my life to stagnation.
I need to go off the scarlet of my wounded heart. I need to pick up my scattered bits. I need to have let go my memories so that I can create new ones.        

Comments

Prianca said…
you write beautifully anannya...without sounding too preachy or too sugary..i'll simply say keep writing....it's one of your best talents. :))
February 28, 2010 at 8:04 AM
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