Isn’t it ironic

Have I lived a life in my thoughts? Have I created a web of complex imagery, intricate dreams and sweet nothings that have lasted me a life-time? Have I lived in meta-stable state of time where past present future has managed to oscillate pendulously? I cant say that I was conscious of the future, neither can I claim possession of the present, and now as in turn-the-page, the past does not seem familiar… my life, huh, seems like lost in translation.

I have done my duties, abided by the grammar of life in general and family in particular. Education, employment, tangibles and intangibles that I own, that make me what I am! It has been a success story as ‘people’ might summarize. But is it so much about a pass-grade; a letter grade stamped on a mark sheet when its time to graduate. But here and now… what would I graduate into? Life long it was about a hide and seek, and now it all seems so futile. One thing led to another, a supply chain of hypocritical affairs that left no time to stand and stare. Percentages to percentiles, ranks to seats, graduation to masters and all along the numerology of a CTC that make you a ‘complete man’! How funny it was, in a dapper suit polished boots, they calculated my true worth! How plastic smiles and blatant lies measured more than a will to learn and a heart to try! How friends were lost and acquaintances made over a mug of beer and buffet dinner. How love’s labor lost in the silence of honor.

I stare into the nothingness of the inky sky. I try to hunt for the tipping point of my life. I try to rummage through the archives and identify the moment of truth! Alas! Seems like I did nothing wrong albeit… my dreams tell me of a different life story.

I have everything, so it is not a ‘grapes are sour’ melodrama inside. But the shades of my palette seem so very unknown now that the canvas has already been painted. Did I set out to use such colors?

The most important possession a man might have when he hangs his boots… is an equal music. A feeling of resonance with his self, his reflection, his canvas…

I never could say it. I never could stop and stare, neither did I fight for it. Fight for all those which were equal music to me. Instead I triumphed in the unknown errors of my life. My locus went on to follow a pattern, some pattern, got me in to the portals of a social milieu but somewhere I lost my sound of music.

I can’t take it back anymore. The sediments of chardonnay, the smell of turmeric, the rhinoceros (the play)…

The black automobile is parked in the driveway. ‘Take us back to the rivers of belief…’ the Enigma song fills in the airs around. There was a piece of paper with words in black, signed with a promise forever… I try hard to remember its content, I try hard to find it, go back in the past for that one reality I wish I had never lost…

If only wishes were true…