When I look
back at my life, there’s plenty to be ashamed of. So many mistakes were made
because of my immaturity, my obstinate refusal to grow up. It’s only in the
autumn of your life you realise that so many blunders of youth could have been
avoided. In Tagore’s words, clouds now come floating into your life, no longer
to carry rain or usher a storm, but to add colour to your sunset sky. The metaphorical
rains and storms belong to a different phase. The hues of the sunset sky remain now.
Those hues may
look resplendent but each has a sad story to tell. That’s how life is, I
believe: more tears than laughter. Or is it more folly than wisdom? Wisdom
comes through the tears, perhaps.
The wisdom
does not make you perfect, however. The truth is that none of us grows
absolutely. We grow in certain dimensions and remain clumsily retarded in
certain others. I have at least grown wise enough to know where I’m likely to
make a fool of myself. That’s why I stay away from society.
When you stay
aside and watch, there’s more fun than tears. You watch others make fools of
themselves. In the name of gods and gaus.
In the name of territories and allegories. They die or kill for the sake of
myths. Sometimes you’re confused whether to laugh or cry. You’ve seen enough to
make you laugh, but your sensibility doesn’t let you laugh.
I wonder if it’s
because I haven’t yet grown up like the majority of people that I’m unable to
mount the bandwagon. The reason doesn’t matter except my awareness that I don’t
belong there.
Could relate to your posts entirely.Now that I have crossed the half century mark I definitely want to steer clear off things I don't enjoy.Everything you wrote here is true for me too.
ReplyDeleteI need to mail you about a blogging problem I am facing. Need your advice. I cant find your email anywhere. Please help.
ReplyDeletetgmatheikal@gmail.com
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