I've always wanted to write a reflexive type of essay... here's my first attempt!
And then we are only left with reflections of what they are going through...
At a stayover, you come to know that he had a heartbreak, you wonder why he didnt call up, then remember why. A few days later, you see a changed status on orkut, single -> committed and you smile to yourself. You find out through the testimonials, fan lists or photo albums who it is, and find yourself surprised. You remember the times when he talked about her but didn't have the nerve to go and say hi! You wonder how this has happened now...
She calls once a while (you are probably still to proud to call her...) But the call isn't just to say hi, like it used to be earlier, instead it is about, which book did you refer for this subject or help on some assignment or stuff like that. You wonder how you both could talk to each other for hours and hours earlier, how you knew everything that was going on with her, and how the things have turned out now.
As expected, you finally see them there. What starts as a formal conversation ends up not so formally. You think everyone changes with time. You promise to stay in touch. You wonder why you were so unwilling to go earlier. Time tells. The time soon comes when you find yourself exactly where you had begun...
You read blogs, but they are mere words strung together now. There was a point when you knew exactly what those words meant. Now, they all seem lost. Seems like the words hold some secrets, they just don't want to talk to you... You see him online and instinctively say hi. Even if there is a reply, you know that its not the hi that earlier told you so many more things.
You want to go back, but you don't know whats stopping you from going back to lost friends.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Journeys, Happiness and me
A chat with a friend has inspired me to write here, something that i found really interesting... a small something from chicken soup for the soul's "eclectic wisdom"
The Station
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows, we drink the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our mind, is the final destination. On a certain day, at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful things will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes of loitering – waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
“When we reach the station that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18”, “When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!”, “When I put my last kid through college”, “When I have paid off the mortgage!”, “When I get a promotion”, “When I have reached the age of retirement I shall live happily ever after”
Sooner of later, we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. True joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
“Relish the moment” is a good motto especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: “This day which lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t that burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and fear of tomorrow. Regrets and Fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice-cream. Go barefoot more often, swim more rives, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
- Robert J. Hastings
The Station
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows, we drink the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our mind, is the final destination. On a certain day, at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful things will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes of loitering – waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
“When we reach the station that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18”, “When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!”, “When I put my last kid through college”, “When I have paid off the mortgage!”, “When I get a promotion”, “When I have reached the age of retirement I shall live happily ever after”
Sooner of later, we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. True joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
“Relish the moment” is a good motto especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: “This day which lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t that burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and fear of tomorrow. Regrets and Fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice-cream. Go barefoot more often, swim more rives, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.
- Robert J. Hastings
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