Play it Again…

Would it not be great to relive your life once again? I believe the answer reverberating endlessly in your mind, is a hearty ‘Yes’.

But let me elaborate. You cannot change the “Given” parameters of your life – parents, place of birth etc. You even cannot change the choices you have made, the algorithm you have charted. Nodes remain the same, deviations remain the same. Even the same way of playing “the elaborate version of fetch”. This implies the pleasures and pangs encountered, would remain the same. This is what is called “Eternal recurrence”, as thought of by philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. I am not asking for an eternal replay, but just once more. Now, do you want to relive it? Still a yes or perplexed?

Now consider this. In one situation, you have full knowledge of the future as you have already lived your life. Another you are as clueless as the first time. Which setup would you choose? Mind you above conditions remain in force. If you go with former setup, would you still relive knowing you can never alter your choices, never rectify your mistakes and would face the same consequences? Now that you know how you have already lived, would you even go with later setup and relive again? I realize that former setup would be far more agonizing. Definitely, on your present situation, POV, it will depend if you want to, “play it again”. For me, I would say… Well, it doesn’t matter…

Inconsequential…

Over the weeks, I was wondering what to pen down. It was as if strong bouts of frustration awaited release, pun intended. I wanted to write, but was stuck with the what. You see, I cannot afford to bore the handful of my readers, literally (of course, it includes you and I am profusely thankful for that). I have very few friends and even fewer people of your kind. You could have picked up a fiction, a thriller, a non – fiction or any fancy genre you usually prefer; even now you can.

I see, you have chosen to be with me. Glad. Let me tell you something that happened with me, lately. I was in a relationship. It was two-week long affair, ended gracefully, and mutually? Okay, maybe. We talked a lot about other people though; their hopes, loves, desires and despairs. Page after page (Duh! It was a book) of discussions about their idiosyncrasies made me realize my own. I do have certain quirks too. When you have the requisite temperature and pressure conditions, you can see them too. But eloquently he told the story, entwining it chapter by chapter. Those chapters became a chapter of my book, as well. 

Everyone is a book of their own, I feel. Some episodes become an integral part and you reference to them frequently; some you do not even want to have in your book. Generally, you realize your error, after you have written it. You can’t erase it, because you write it with indelible ink on a paper, speaking conventionally. But I do not intend to talk about those errors. I intend to talk about the characters in your own book. They play a role, of significance or otherwise. They transform your storyline, may be alter it a little, or may be end it. A bit morbid, eh? They are the nodal points, or sometimes pain points of your seemingly linear journey. They can be a whole chapter or just merely a line. You have to conclude the old one to move to a new one. Yes, you can always refer back, maybe not always. But are they not books in their own right? Yes, they are. So, we cannot always buzz them; they have their own story to write, they might even know their purpose. But what should be an ideal purpose, I wonder. Maybe, it is to be at least a nodal line in multitudinous books. And my dear reader, you are fulfilling your raison d’être now. Kudos! However, I prefer to be inconsequential. 

Memories…

Humans are an amalgamation of memories that they create. Love, hope, anger and hate ensue from our experiences that transmogrify into memories. The memories are a subtle force that creates the crests on the flatline of our lives. That is what embodies a beating life.

But are these memories perfectly aligned to what had happened? Were these real at the time of happening? Can a corroboration be done? Difficult if we intend to recreate it at a later point in time. Retentions are essentially interpretation of the instances of interactions. These interpretations are fallible. Predicated on these interpretations you develop a mental character profile for a person, sometimes unconsciously, unaware about the sparks in your wired compartment. Sometimes it is from one interaction, sometimes many. Sometimes you are right, sometimes not. And mind you these character profiles are almost dynamic, yes, almost. It’s like Sherlock Holmes’ mind palace. Ok, ok, it would not be that grand for most of us. May be a modest condominium. That should do, I say. Now you hopefully see the difficulty, right? If not, it should not matter and if you do, does it? By the way, am I holding a cup of wine now? No, it’s coffee. That was easy.

Idea Courtesy: Book – The Sense of an Ending

Realisation…

Is it some glee, in the wide blue yonder?
Or some melancholy mirage, I wonder!
Adversities abound in the path lay,
With myriads of uncertainty at play.

Treading through the weighty miles,
Passing a lot many precarious trials;
Heeding to the blame of the multitude,
Waning alone in my fortress of solitude.

Had put my belief in iniquitous men,
Excruciating was each passing day, then;
But the requisite is, the spirit unbroken,
Realised I, to take ‘the Road not taken’.

Prison

Bound and firmly chained,
With unseen shackles of pain,
Caved and been tamed,
Eyes oozing out red-rain…

Thriving off of the melancholy,
With the host ‘The Grim’ verily,
Every day, I tread the unmoving mile
Shrouding my face with fiddly smile…

Prison it is, with no bars, no walls,
And no man in the hollow halls,
To comfort the living dead,
As the morbid tune plays in my head…