Purge

A few months back there was another emotional upheaval to go through.

What do you do when you are offered a path?
Is there ever a choice?

You think you have a choice.
You do what you have to do.

So I did.
The question had presented itself.
It is much simpler than what it was made out to be.

It was merely a question of recognizing the pus that had been festering.
The pus of unanswered questions.
The questions unanswered because they were never asked.
The questions never asked for fear they wouldn't be answered.

The only way to rid the body of an abscess is to drain the pus.
I did it too.
I asked all those questions.

I was right about one thing.
There was no answer.

I was not right about one thing.
It was not a futile exercise.

We sometimes hold on to our shackles.
So used to them, we guard our own prisons.
Letting go is all it takes.

The answers will come... 
Or they may not.

But now I am purged and the healing has begun.

Why?.... Because.....

There was a time, when someone would walk out on me without a reason, and I would be left with only one thing.

A curiosity so strong, I could barely make it through the darkness of that one word.

Why?

Then it started happening.

Those people started to come back. 

Years apart.

Paths start crossing and things have a way of coming around.

There must be some merit to the String theory! 

And when they come around, the backs are no longer turned.

To avoid looking into the eyes is no longer an option.

The truth is Absolution!

It is never what I expect the answer to be.

Never an assumed flaw I wondered about.

Even though, relentless self scrutiny did offer observations that remedied many a real flaw I had.

It is a poisoned gossip vine.

Or a weak spine.

Sometimes, mere inconvenience.

Greater than the closure, is the lesson.

The more precious for the bitter way it is learned.

When someone turns their back on you for apparently no reason, the Universe is giving you a gift!

Accept it and cherish the opportunity to know the truth about someone's character.

Q. Why?

A. Because...

Sometimes we need just an ear.

Sometimes we need a hand to hold.

Sometimes we need a shoulder to prop on.

Sometimes, we need to look into the mirror of a turned back.

Clarity... or Lack of it!

My previous blog was full of outrage.

Fueled by a sense of unfathomable betrayal.

Probably, based on a belief that telling someone you love them, somehow makes a difference.

It gets you the right to be directly informed.

It makes you deserve that much.

Apparently,it doesn't.

Only madmen in love can nourish such romantic notion.

The timing is so atrocious.

The moment I gather myself and shards of my heart.

The moment I decide to distance myself, he has to come back.

He has to leave a word.

A formal greeting.

A word so deprived of emotion, it feels disrespectful.

Disrespectful, and fouler than an abuse.

Like spit in the face.

Like alms so petty, they offend a beggar.

It is like he mocks my love.

Or his knowledge of it.

Yet, I wait for that one pitiful word.

Wait with eager anticipation.

Wait, till it brings the disappointment of its bland notion.

Yet, I love him, over the other who loves me so truly.

Am I so blindly ungrateful?

There is nothing I appreciate more than my unparalleled fortune in what I already have.

Then why are my affections so divided?

Is it the allure of that which is beyond reach?

At least, the question is clear now. 

In time, the answer may present itself too.

Until then...

Interpreting Silence

This is where it all started in fifth grade:

"I finished my test and sat in the library while I waited for my brother to finish his. 
It was an exam day. 
I waited for the whole school.
Third to twelfth grade.

I marveled at the silence that surrounded me. 
I waited for the Goddess of Learning to descend and bless the tranquility.
I could almost see a chariot of light descend any moment now.
That moment was not to happen.

What descended was realization.
I realized this silence was not what seers and hermits sought to be enlightened.

This silence did not lift burdens off the mind.
This silence was born of the burdens that young minds bore.

This silence was born of fear.
What fruit could a tree bear that grew from the seed of fear.

There was no amazement of learning.
No joy of achievement.

Only the fear of not performing well enough for expectations.

It was the silence of childhoods silenced in the name of education."

My dad read the unsigned note two years later. 
He showed it to me.
He said I should learn from whoever wrote it.

I told him it was mine.

He went silent.
I tried to interpret his silence.

To this day I do not know if he approved that his child was not someone he couldn't be ashamed of.

I kept interpreting silence per my convenience...

to be continued...

Like Before...

Someone told me a few months back, "You'll go back home and everything will be like before."

Took those words and kept them in my heart.
Worked so hard to see them come true.

Tried. 
Really tried.
And then tried some more.
And every time looked around to see if everything was like before.


Never happened.

How can it ever be if a part of your soul is changed?
If your heart has been touched?
If you have known the change and let it know that you know?

Life happens and we walk away.


Try to walk away...  
But can we?

Every past moment was different.
Every passing moment is changing.
Every moment that will pass will change.

It can never be like before.
However much you say it or want to believe it.

It can never be like before.

Que Importa... What does it Matter?

What's so important?
Is there anything so important?

Ultimately. No.

There comes a moment when the realization dawns that Life is, in fact, just a moment.
A moment in the passing of innumerable more.

The only moment that is real is the present moment.
The moment gone, never retrieved.

The moment coming, becomes present even as we think of it.

No reality except that minuscule iota of time that's Now.
All that we think is Real is merely our Brain telling us it is.

Then what does it matter?
Why get tied down with attachments?
Why get torn down by loss?
Why celebrate or mourn a moment?

The moment is passed.
The next has come.

Let nothing stop you.
Move on.

Love.
Live.

Why? Oh, Why?

Why? Oh, Why?
Why me?
Why now?
Why?

Everyone has asked that at least once in life.
Has sat with head in hands and wondered.
Has cried inwards or cursed outwards.
Has felt betrayed. 

Has lost faith.
Has been there.

At least once in life.

Then everyone has lifted their heads.
Tried to look up. 

Act like moving on.

Problem.
Moving on doesn't happen so easily.
The pain doesn't go away.
The faith doesn't return a hundred percent.

Unless.... the "Why?" is answered.

Answers take time.
A millisecond. A decade.
It depends.
It depends, when the Universe decides to show "Why?".

But when it happens, there can be no doubt there is always a plan for us in the scheme of the Universe.
All that is needed is to be aware when the Answer reveals itself.

What happens, happens just the way it should have happened.

How do I know?
As Morpheus puts it, "Because we are not dead."