Skip to main content

Of changing the world and other miss conceptions

Growing old is a good thing. It is like cold steel turning malleable, it is like harsh jagged edges of rocks getting rounded by the consistent onslaught of the seas and the winds. Growing older is about replacing my original beliefs about changing the world with uncomfortable thoughts about my own immortality, my own super stardom. Maybe I am not the only superman walking the earth! Maybe I don't have the kind of time I initially thought I had. Maybe I don't have the credits and bonus points in my kitty to go on fighting monsters and hidden enemies of the world forever.

The years as they pass by lend relevance to what the masters have said before... Maybe some bit of what happens in my life is also because of me. Maybe those who have run away have run away because I am the kind of person who makes them kind of people run away. Maybe those who tag along tag along because there is something in me that glues them to me. I am good for some not good for some.

The rage of youth and the extreme urge to bracket others into good and bad, right and wrong, dumb or bright, poor our rich, educated or illiterate, like me and hence good, unlike me and hence bad etc. is giving way to silent consistent probing about myself.

The years ahead will see me taking on the demons in me more often. I realize that when I hate less...I find that there is more space to love. Love is something that helps make life happier, hatred is like a handheld 3g device, it generates to much heat and drains the batteries lot faster. Love is slower, helps you live longer.

Comments

  1. That's so true: "hate less..." :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Important insight. Thanks for this.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Definitely true in my experience that the best approach managing life's ups and downs is loving more and hating as little as possible. Thanks for the poetic way you put it...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Clarity

I have looked at myself
From the edges of reason
And discovered
That both my sanity and insanity
Springs forth like seasons
Out of my distances from you. Realizing thus
I have allowed the outer rims
Of my diffused sanity
To fritter away into crumbs
Of misplaced memories
From my time with you. I have often found myself being unreasonable
When I am away from you.
And generally insane
When otherwise.

The Dark of the Night

You would not have walked with me
Had the nights been not so scary
And your nightmares
All so real for you.

I would not have held your hands
Had the hands that I wished to hold
Not left me out in the cold.
Let us together, you and I

Celebrate our togetherness
Even as in our silences
We cherish our separateness.

Mar 7, 2015
First published in Indian Sahitya, Feb 2017 Issue on Contemporary Indian Poetry

Objects in the rear-view mirror are…

When it was time for her to go, it was also time for me to let go. Once an irritant is washed out, they say you can start seeing better immediately. All that stupid tears and all that rubbing of the soul, until your eyelids would cry out, no more, no more. 
And then, just like that, one fine day, I wake up, and she was gone.
As the train chugged out
The tracks cried out in senseless
creaks of half despair