Sometimes, you get so involved in thinking deeper about certain things, that you don’t actually realize that you are living with the thoughts day in and day out. One needs a kick to come out of a dream, like in “Inception”. Rahul’s posterous post did just that to me (Okay, I won’t link to that here!). He finally, made me write this long pending piece. This post is dedicated to you, Rahul 🙂
As I walk down the lanes filled with long history, mind wanders down my own memory lane. Each tree, each building – towered by their past, stare at me from above. Each thought, each cell too stare at me, from beneath the skin. I wondered at the beauty of Silcher’s statue and my philosopher friend commented about the violent images it reminded her of. I was surprised when she said that, and later shocked, when I realized that I conveniently erased the violent parts of the image from my memory.
“You seem to have friends everywhere in the world”
“Yeah, it seems so to me too” I respond, with an I-Dunno-What-Iam-Talking expression.
“What did you do to get so many friends? How are you staying in touch?”
“I did not do anything. I am just lucky to have them in my life!” my heart reels behind the facade.
“You must be fun and friendly, I guess”
“My foot! its my friends who are that. Not me!” my thoughts rush ahead of my action.
All conversations are pretensions, truths and lies.
Life beams with radiance. Death glares with a “never say die” impertinence. I feel like the cheese in a sandwich. Grave realities stare at me. Dark memories starkly haunt me, refusing to forget themselves in my present. Amidst all these, I have a hearty nonsensical laugh. A moment you laugh; The next moment you cry, till the eyes go dry; And then, like my thoughts, the looks go wry. Rhymes, so many I try. Breaking thoughts, they start to pry. And I laugh again…and I talk again…and I walk again…and I cry again..and I laugh…!
Broken thoughts, Unbroken memories
Clear predictions, Unclear hopes
Peopled conversations, Lonely investigations
Virtual reality, real virtuality
That is me – is that me?