February 20, 2004

Memory

The greatest burden that persistence places on you is the not-so-welcome virtue of impatience. Since the endgame is already known, all you want to do get the rites of passage out of the way as soon as possible and move on towards the next world. Only if it were that easy. The lords of emotions, sentiments and memories rule their lands with an iron hand which no one can escape. It is only after one pays the required homage in the currency of tears, seemingly unending darkness and wasted time, the soul is unburdened and set free.

Beyond which the same landscape rises again, under the glare of a new day's sun, like a patient emerging out a deep coma. There is so much to be learnt, so many places to go and so many things to look back at, all without the customary bitterness that used to haunt these same alleyways. Life often feels like a screw's worn thread, you never know how much longer it will hold. A turn and another and it all lets go. Back to square one again, turn and same result. And one day it holds. Finally, we have reached the end of the lords' kingdom. Freedom.

It is not as much about vindication as it is about lending a hand to hold on to, when it is needed the most, even if it goes against every single thing you ever stood for. It is not as much about spelling things out as it is about reading correctly the bouts of silence. It is not as much about counting the moments of your presence as it is about counting the moments of your absence. In the end, it is not as much about remembering the times that you disliked about someone as it is about remembering the times you liked. It is all so simple, yet so very difficult.