Time just flies away and before you can blink you are on the verge of death, regretting so many things you could have done in so many different ways.
I have spent a considerable part of my life going through the motions, drifting with the tide, like a free fall in empty space when you don't see the bottom and have not a shadow of an idea as to what lies beneath.
I have realized quite late in the day that life is meant to be enjoyed to the fullest rather than being spent dabbling in shallow waters while the ocean lies unexplored.
I let so many opportunities pass by on my journey, just looking, never touching - a peripheral enjoyment that left me feeling unfulfilled and craving for more.
A retrospection always makes me regret what I left behind.
The future lies wrapped in swathes of darkness and I can hardly find my way; I have lost my bearings; I am groping in the darkness that envelops my very existence.
All of a sudden, in this Stygian gloom appears a beacon of light, a ray of hope that seems to hold some promise of showing me the way out.
This glimmer of hope is the only thing I am left with, the only thing that reminds me that life is not meant to be frittered away, rather it is a discovery every other day and it depends on oneself whether one can make the most of it or just go through the motions of birth, living and death.
Rajeev,
ReplyDeleteI really envy your ability to convey things in such a concise(for the lack of a better word) manner and yet get the point across intensely without being verbose. It was like a post within a post. Is this style of writing a conscious effort or does it come naturally to you?Because from what I have read through, all your posts pack a punch and none of them are long winded.
You got that right.The only way to really live.Hope,hope and only hope.
These are ravings from a man who was fretting over a failure which made him do some introspection. I am glad to know that someone likes my cathartic words. If it really is good, which I doubt,then I have to admit that I usually write like this.
ReplyDeleteI am not happy with the way my life has turned out and whenever I write, I can't help a shade of greyness touching it. There is nothing pretentious about it, just plain and simple gush of emotion.
I once wrote a piece about my childhood, a marathon composition of about 400 words composed in a frenzied writing session of less than five minutes. I didn't have to think for a fraction of a moment and I could barely remember things that I wrote. When I read it afterwards, I felt so ashamed of saying such things about my own family that I hid it. I can't post it anywhere for fear of someone reading it. It's like being caught in the nude. But whatever comes truly from the bottom of the heart has that denuding quality.
Very few things in this neglected, tossed-aside blog are fictional. Thanks for spending your time going through it.
God bless you.