So here I am. In my own space, to speak all the rubbish I can. There are too many words all around me. Words, that need to be arranged. Words, that have longed to create meanings, emotions, may be even fantasies. And thats all I have. Words.
As I set off on a journey that I wish to continue (I am so good at discontinuing things at my whims), heres a bit of me that I can share. I find this "bit of myself" in all that I love - in the music that sends me into raptures, in the seas and the shores that I dream to explore, in the books that give me company, and last but not the least, in the myriad trivia of everyday life.
As I walk down the winding lanes that take me through memories and aspirations, agonies and ecstasies, people and places; I wish to leave my footprints ....... here.
1 comment:
You remind me of Shakespeare today...
"No matter where; of comfort no man speak:
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?"
But that can't be it, can it? Our lives must mean something more; our pains, our pleasures, our poetry, our philosophies, our triumphs, our tribulations, our love, our loathing...something must remain, yet, when we are gone. "Awaazein kabhi nahi marti" trashy Hindi flick or eternal truth? Maybe all that remains of us are our words.
Post a Comment