Lights

In the course of our life, on one fine, seemingly ordinary day, we cross paths with someone with whom we feel a bizarre sort of connection. For some inexplicable reason, we feel more attached to this stranger than anyone else. The stranger feels closer to us than our closest family member, and even more dependable than our best friend. And after that, life is no more the same…

The stranger almost feels like our guardian angel. Everything is so perfect that surely only the Gods could have sent them! There is some truth in this – they definitely are in our life for a Higher purpose. Perhaps, to teach us an important lesson, or to just protect us during a difficult phase. Worries just seem to evaporate in their presence, and there isn’t any sorrow so great that it doesn’t fade away in the comforts of their arms. We put our complete faith in them and even if there are times when trouble does brew up in this La La Land, everything clears up in due time.

However, it’s always wise to remember that they aren’t ours for keeps no matter how strongly we grow to love them. They may enter our lives as Saviours, but they cannot do this job all their lives. At some point, instead of blindly submitting to them as our protectors, we need to take the reins in our hands and learn the art of saving ourselves. That is when the process is fully complete and their purpose fulfilled.

After fulfilling their purpose, they may just exit our lives and become strangers to us again. That will hurt. With the mask of the guardian angel off and the halo lifted, one may wonder what was so special about them that made us give them the power to hurt us and leave us in disarray.

If ever such a thought crops up, remind yourself that you are walking towards the wrong end of the tunnel. While the whole world may appear bleak and dark, and you feel that you cannot see any light around you as your continue plunging into the darker depths of the tunnel, there will always be light coming from you. Never forget that. Even if you cannot see it, everyone else can.

We are all lights leading the way for one another. It is the light in us that enables us to see the light in others. If ever you find yourself being immersed in a world of darkness, remember all you need to do is to look within – your inner light is all that you need to light up the whole world!

Keep Shining!

Pieces

She sits down on the floor and makes no move. She sits and does nothing. She knows she wants to think, but she just can’t. She has been paralyzed, but with what?  The blade goes back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth, it makes a sound, almost like some melody. It hurts. It pains and pains. It pains a lot. She smiles. She keeps feeling the pain, and the pain keeps intensifying. She laughs.

Her entire room is dark. She has been sitting down far too long. Today’s the day, she decides. She thinks that this is it. Today is the day. And then, it suddenly stops. No more sound, no more melody. There is red around her…Staining red…But she is still able to get up. Her wrist oozes the most stunning vibrant red, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Turns out today wasn’t the day after all…

She gets up from the floor as the sunlight falls on her face almost mocking her existence. With a smile, she covers her face, and with a long-sleeved kurta, her scars and steps out to brave yet another day.

There’s something about her, something that’s strange, and something that’s unique. She does not appear broken, but he can hear the shrill cries inside her. She seems strong, she seems happy, but he can see the numbness in her eyes, and hear the pain in her voice. She’s probably made a deal with her demons, and yes, they have left her alone, but he realizes they took something with them in exchange – a part of her soul. Each time, she feels love, the crater in her soul longs to be filled.

Nobody ever sees her for what she is. No one misses a part of her. But, there are times, when she does miss some old part of herself. He notices her looking around for pieces. He wishes he could paste them back. Tiny pieces that may seem insignificant to the world, but they still belong to her, and she wants them because they are hers to take back, hers to place back. There are moments when she stands to search for them and place them back, and then the reality hits her, and it hits him too with harder force. He can see the pain behind those gorgeous eyes of hers. He wants to be there to fill in the blank spaces that she leaves behind every time she walks. He wants to be the shine of her eyes, the strength of her voice, and the reason for her happiness.

He wants her to feel loved, to feel happy from within, and become the symbol of hope and tranquillity that she is capable of becoming. He sees her for what she is – someone born to lead, not to lurk in the shadows. She is a being of purity and integrity.

He knows that she can cradle the existence of this small world of theirs one day, but today, he lets himself be consumed to bring light upon her so that she herself is able to shine one day. He knows that by doing so, he’ll be losing a part of himself, but for her, it will be totally worth it. 

Faceless Stories

Everyone has their own reason for waking up every morning, or “a reason for being”. The Japanese call this “ikigai”. All of us have so many different reasons for jumping out of bed (or, as in my case, crawling out). It could be a compulsion to meet the minimum attendance percentage required in college (most college-students’ cases!), or, maybe, to just meet up with friends, to take up a new challenge that life throws our way – carpe dium. Reasons could be many – perhaps, to just hug your parent, or cuddle with your pet, or even crank up some silly music and goof around in your PJs. Maybe, you just like to see the sun rise and hear the birds chirp. The dawn gives you hope, light beyond the dark, and a chance to start afresh – a new beginning. Since the chance can be grabbed, why not?? Even though we might not all be morning persons, there is always that one reason in our life that gives us the belief and the hope of another day. It’s the belief we take with us to sleep at night and hold on to – and that is how life goes on…Really. Days, weeks, months, years pass by for these little reasons that make us “want” to wake up to a bright, new day. Reasons that keep us alive. These “ikigais” are something that just makes us so much more similar to each other than we realize…These “ikigais” are the faceless stories that are common not just to you and me, but also to stories we do not perceive, or realistically, choose not to perceive.

Last month, I had the unbelievably amazing opportunity to attend a workshop in Rishikesh and the lessons I learnt there – I could not have learnt them anywhere else. Amongst the various life-lessons the workshop taught me, one was that no matter where you go, which language you speak – everyone is one and the same...Flesh and bones…With the same hopes and dreams, same reasons to wake up every morning, same fears and insecurities. We are all watching the same movies, listening to the same songs and fighting the same battles.

Let me now get back to the title of my post – Faceless Stories. These stories are merely just every single person around us. The crowds that we get lost in, in shopping malls or in the middle of a crowded street. They include our batch-mates and our colleagues. Our parents. Our teachers. Even the celebrities we adore and worship. How much do we really know about their lives? Have we ever really stepped into their shoes and seen for ourselves what living their life felt like? How many times, before placing a judgment, have we stopped to ask ourselves what that person’s life has been like? Forget about each and every day, have we ever lived even one day in his life? If not, then, what gives us the power to decide for ourselves what ‘might’ that person be like, or what his life ‘might’ be like. We paint a face what in reality is nothing more than a faceless story…A novel that we are NOT the author of. This serves as the building block to all the pandemonium that we see around us, today. Clouded judgements and influenced perceptions.

Being absolutely non-judgmental may not be possible for all of us. All I feel is that – yes, we may be different from each other, but then, if all of us are different together, then in that, we are all similar. So yes – we are in all entireties, the same. I do not ask you to not judge. I ask you to not judge people by your own standards. Everyone around you is trying to hold on to their “ikigais”, fulfil their dreams, fight their demons, win their battles - and all unbeknownst to you. 

Faceless Stories - Scenario 1:

As you walk home after an exhausting day, a cute seven-year-old skips along the pavement holding her mother’s hand. You smile to yourself and say, “What a cute little girl!” and then something else catches your mind. Little did you know that the cute seven-year-old won her first poem recitation competition in school that day. She was given a certificate and everyone clapped for her. The certificate is now safely kept in a pink folder in her school bag that is slung across her mother’s shoulders. Her mother cannot help but smile a proud, little smile. The mother is reminded of her school-days. She remembers her days in school when she was great in debates and is so happy that her daughter is following her footsteps and enjoying public speaking. She can’t wait to reach home and announce via Facebook proudly before the world about how her daughter won a prize.

At home, the cute, little girl snuggles in bed clutching her teddy bear and soon drifts off into a dream world where she fantasizes about receiving ten more certificates and trophies that’ll adorn her bedroom, and more claps, more hugs, more Facebook statuses, more praises.

Faceless Stories - Scenario 2:

Your boss has just announced your promotion in front of the entire office. As everyone is busy cheering and congratulating you, you observe a colleague, who is a good friend of yours, slightly moving to a corner, with no smile on his face, fidgeting with his phone, and you immediately realize, “He wanted this promotion. Now he’s jealous of me.” Your colleague notices you looking at him and smiles, but you can make out it is forced. You make up your mind to stay away from him as far as possible. He has no idea about your decision. Just a while ago, he found out that the girl he really loved is marrying another man and he’s heartbroken. However, he does not want to share his bad news with you at a time when you are celebrating your success. He decides to shake off his grief and join in the merrymaking even though he does not feel like it. He is happy that he at least has a friend at work.

Faceless Stories - Scenario 3:

Your date just stood you up. As you sit by yourself, blinking your eyes rapidly to stop the tears from flowing, you suddenly hear a delightful scream! The woman on the table in front of you has just been proposed by the man of her dreams, and she's said 'yes'. You stare at the happy couple in anger and mutter to yourself, "Life's not fair! How can they rub their happiness on my face." You don't notice the sigh of relief on that woman's face. You do not see the creases on her face, caused due to incessant nights of worry. For the last ten nights, she has not slept a wink. "How do I tell him that I am pregnant with his child?", "Will he accept me and the baby?", "What do I do now?" - that is all she's been thinking. Finally, she can have a restful sleep tonight. Her baby is going to have a father figure after all. Life's good again. The man too can see nothing around him; he's too engrossed staring into the eyes of the woman he loves. It's time for him to become responsible now, take charge. He cannot behave like a child any more, because an actual child is going to come into his life - his own baby. He just cannot believe it!

Faceless Stories - Scenario 4:

You're having a great time with your friends. All of you have had a few too many drinks. Your friend insists on driving the car, and even though you know it isn't right,  you let him. The music is loud and all of you are singing along, having the time of your lives. You do not notice the man crossing the road, and by the time you do, it's too late. He's gone, and your friends just drive past the empty roads without even turning back to look at him. "He seemed poor...Was probably homeless...No one will miss him...Let's not get into any trouble...Run! Drive fast!" and you and your friends have escaped. It's been a week and life goes on for all of you. There are a few moments plagued with guilt, but nothing so extreme that you aren't able to focus on the task at hand. You just shrug off the ill feeling and get back to work. Back in an old dilapidated house, a visually impaired father is desperately waiting for his son's arrival. The neighbours feel his son abandoned him because taking care of the sick, old man was no easy task. The old man hears these whispers every day and wonders what is it that he did that drove his son away. 

There are so many more faceless stories just like these. Everyone around us, making their way home by the roads they know best - roads that we probably would have got lost on, till we made a phone call and asked them to repeat the address again...Because everyone around you has a life outside of yours, complete with their own thoughts, feelings and emotions. You could potentially just be a passing figure on the street to them. Every random passerby you encounter is living a life as vivid and as complex as yours - populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk…

Let them write their own novel, a novel that you do not need to write a book review of!

You Against The World

I could think that the sky above me is pink. When it rains, down come nachos! All the trees are red due to excess of anthocyanins. Maybe, people around me have purple hair, gray hands and feet. Our blood is blue, and penguins run the government.

It is easy for me to imagine such things, but I wonder if I would be able to tell you these thoughts? If I did, I’m sure you’d laugh; or say, “Gosh, what is wrong with you? When did you stop sounding sensible?” or maybe you’d dismiss the whole affair as “funny stuff” or a joke. But, what if that makes perfect sense to me?

We all have thoughts that we’re afraid to voice. Perhaps, we’re ingrained with the fear of being looked at as different, or being labelled “weird”. We have been trained to conform, and we pretty much do things that everyone else does, for pretty much the same reasons. We follow trends, and have our preferred self-identities. But, how real are these identities? Are they really us? Why do we care so much about what others will think, when somewhere down the line we’re also taught that they aren’t supposed to matter?

I find myself bombarded with such thoughts from time to time. Maybe it stems from a state of idleness, or maybe I’m one of the people crazy enough to believe that I need to entertain my thoughts, even if nobody else does. So, let’s take this one step at a time; and start on a journey to find our “true self”, discover who we really are, and uncover a new motto to live by – that it’s probably just us, and only us, against the universe, and that it might always remain that way…

There are so many people on this planet with bewildering diversities in thought-patterns, belief-systems, and lives, yet we all seem to have adopted the image of one “common man” who strives to get through the day, get some sleep at night, and busy himself with the humdrum of life. Everyone is doing it! You can seriously see it happening all around you.

Structurally, we are all the same molecules, we possess the same organs and our brains do not develop special structures and features on the basis of our different racial, regional or sexual background. Then, why are we trying to stand out? Isn’t all the effort going to be in vain? Since we are all so remarkably similar, let’s just try to fit in. Why should we try to think different when we all come down to the same matter? “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Remember?

 Why must you stand out when you can fit in? Why should you try so hard to be yourself? Isn’t that thought by itself sinful? Why do you want to make your voice heard over the seas of the crowds? Why do you want your thoughts to soar high above the clouds?

It’s not easy to keep marching ahead when so many are trying to fit you in their mould. But, always remember, it’s you against the world. It is you against all of them. Stop feeling small, believe that you are Goliath. Don’t listen to the voices – they’re mistaken and are trying to confuse you too! Don’t dig your own grave by falling prey to their words. Just stand tall.

It could be a lonely night, but remember even when there’s no else, there is truth. It’s alright to be a little crazy because that is the real you. Life may seem terrible, but you have no clue – it’s actually beautiful, but the journey to the rainbows is you, just you…

In the end, it is you against the world, and this place isn’t going to be your home forever. As the lights get dim, the Universe will embrace your dark, and your light. If the Universe can, so can you. You don’t have to wait until after the end.

No one else matters. You matter. Only you.

Stop trying to fit in. Start standing out. Extraordinary people didn’t fit in. They broke the rules without caring what people thought. We are all books waiting to be written. But so many books have remained manuscripts in the mind, and never been chanced upon. You know why? Because we’re so busy trying to be “normal” that we don’t think crazy. Steve Jobs once said that those who think they’re crazy enough to change the world are the ones that actually do. Those are the books that get written. These are the people who do not apologize for being the way they are. They know that in the end, it’s going to be just them and their creator. The world does not matter. It never did.

I like me, but there are days when I find it hard to love me. Yet, I choose to believe in me. I believe in my beliefs and thoughts. It does not matter who else believes in them too, as long as I believe in them as strongly as I possibly can. I try staying away from stereotypes. I try to be the truest version of me. And those who know we well, I’m sure they’d agree. Even if they don’t, it doesn’t matter. Believe me, it makes life a lot easier. Own your true self, be yourself, and be totally unapologetic about it!

The Call

It had been a long time since their last meeting. Every time, she missed him, she stared at the sky. After all, no matter where they were, they were all under the same sky; and they both fell asleep wishing under the same stars under the same sky they shared. People always told her that time is a wonderful healer, but she had seen how time had destroyed them – perhaps, it was too late for them to be able to salvage their situation. Time could heal, time could rip a person into pieces. But, time could not change the story. Ever since he had left, she found herself constantly swimming between two waves – the flood of letting in, and the torrent of letting go. Sometimes, she felt so frustrated that she thought it was time to just leave and turn to dust. If the essence of her life was leaving him, she wondered if she could just walk down the old path one last time, gather everything that she wanted and re-paint the entire road red. She missed the lazy evenings they spent together and wished she could just go back to simpler times. She knew there was still a chance – albeit a teeny tiny one – but she was not sure she wanted to take it. It required a lot of effort, and she wasn’t sure she could invest so much again. Besides, only a miracle could really save them, and she did not believe in miracles.

As he waited for his train to arrive, he remembered the first time he had met her. The swarm of people rushing to enter the train while she was attempting to get out had scared her. As soon as she saw him at the platform, she just rushed into his arms, and the world around seemed to have come to a stand-still. The way she’d held on to him made him feel incredible and uniquely warm. He wondered if she had ever been horrified the way she’d been that day. It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea to endure the journey on Mumbai local-trains during peak-hours, and that had been her first time. In that moment, all she’d needed was a whisper and a hug. He hadn’t quite known what to do, but on that day, she’d made it clear that trust had no faces, only promises, and her vulnerability had involuntarily made him promise that he would protect her. She was the first person from whom he learnt that the world deserves to be loved; even by broken people, like her and him. As he thought of her, he realized that what they shared was beautiful, even though it had been dead for some years. Had it really been that long, or it just felt that way because time only seemed to fly when she was by his side chattering away to glory? He realized that the night did not always need to be dark and cloudy; light always shone to drive the darkness away. After all, they lived on a blue planet that circled around a raging ball of fire, next to a moon that moved the sea – who was to say that miracles don’t happen?

The time had come for change. It was time to recover the good parts of their life. Happiness was now just a phone call away, and this time he did not hesitate as he pulled out his mobile-phone and dialled her number. 

Be Your Own Friend

Everyone around me is celebrating Friendship Day – my WhatsApp is flooded with messages on friendship, Facebook is filled with pictures and statuses of people dedicating messages to their friends, even my grandmother has received a friendship band from our cook!

While I have often stated that I don’t believe in celebrating a particular relationship on the basis of a particular assigned day (Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day, etc.), this year my cheerful spirit seems to have achieved a new level of low on this particular occasion of Friendship Day. Somehow, this day seems to be a mockery of sorts!

We’ve all been conditioned to believe that we need friends to get on with life. We’re all aware of the responsibilities and duties a “good” friend is expected to perform:

Friends make our lives beautiful by dividing our sorrows and doubling our happiness. A true friend is always there for you whenever you need them. Friends are understanding, non-judgmental, and they will never let you down. Friends keep your secrets. They know what makes you happy and what bothers you. They know when you are upset, and not only know what to do to make you feel better, they actually go ahead and do everything it takes to ensure you always have a smile on your face.

These are just some of the things that came off the top of my head; I’m sure there are many more! Now, how many of us have friends who can be honestly fitted into these perfect descriptions and definitions? In the real world, people aren’t perfect, and such an ideal friendship does not exist. In reality, every person we encounter is an acquaintance or associate with whom we are in close contact as the equation is mutually beneficial in some way or the other.

All relationships are fluid. We may be extremely close to someone, but after a few years, the person could become as good as a stranger. Once upon a time, you and your friend stuck together like glue. Now, you two meet once in a few months only to catch up over dinner or a movie. There are conflicts now, but there is no attempt made to resolve them – it seems pointless because things will never go back to the way they were, and there is no point in making things worse. Often, their newsfeed is filled with news or events that you weren’t a part of, or you probably hear about significant events in their life from someone else. The transition often hurts, and to cushion the pain, we often live in a world of denial. But, the right thing to do is just accept the things that one can’t change, and move on.

In reality, the only person who can be your “true friend” is you. No one will care for your happiness and wellbeing more than you. No one will put your needs before theirs. Only you can truly look after yourself and take care of your own needs. If you start putting others before you, you are being a bad friend to yourself. As cynical as it may sound, but, we are all alone in this world, and we have to fend for ourselves. There is no glory in sacrificing your wishes to fulfil someone else’s dreams – nine out of ten times, your sacrifice is not going to be appreciated, and you will only end up being taken for granted.

This Friendship Day, resolve to fire those friends who do not allow you to be the best version of yourself. Fire those who expect you to leave everything for them at the drop of a hat, and won’t do the same for you even if you’re stuck in a world of pain. No matter how difficult it is, don’t tell yourself that you don’t have such selfish friends. We all know who they are – let us not welcome and celebrate toxicities in our life.

Spend some time comforting yourself when you’ve had a bad day. No one knows better than you what makes you feel good – instead of waiting for someone to do something, take charge and make yourself feel wonderful. If you need someone to talk, listen to yourself. Pay attention to your thoughts and get in touch with your feelings. Don’t judge yourself for feeling the way you do. Be yourself when you are in your own company. Get rid of the mask! This Friendship Day, resolve to become your own best friend. You are the only person you need. 

The Twenty-Six Year Old Child

It was an orange scarf that hid in a corner of my cupboard and I never bothered giving it a second glance. I had never worn it, and would probably never use it, and so it lay tucked in its corner, bearing the burden of other clothes piled on top of it, almost forgotten. Until one fateful evening when my mother told me to give it away in order to clear some space. Despite the fact that it took her over half an hour to explain which scarf she was talking about, I put my foot down and refused to get rid of it. And so it stayed in my cupboard, and it still has never been used.

As I reflect on my behaviour, I know it is the kind that probably a four year old is more suited for, and I wonder what made me react in this strange possessive manner. It isn't just about the scarf but, in general, I am not someone who likes doing away with things. I have been this way since I was a child, and at twenty-six, I am not sure if I am any different.

I often wonder: do we really change with time? Do we actually grow up or are we the same people inside who would react to things the same way they'd do before if only they were given the space? As we start developing physically, our process of socialization ensures that we start reacting in ways that we are expected to, but do we really change as a person inside ourselves?

The process of growing up involves behaving in a way as expected by our peers, family members and significant others. So, we try hiding the green monster with a smile when we greet some people. We brush off our irresponsible side with finesse and each and every moment, we stand, all geared up to brave the big, fierce world. We try hard to fill the gap and be the person we are expected to be in order to match the image they have of us. But, somewhere inside, we still enjoy those small joys; we still like to do silly things; and some wishes that were once our dreams continue to haunt us.

Each one of us, according to me, is unique, and born with a different set of abilities, habits and desires. Rather than trying so hard to fit in with the rest, we should just own up to who we truly are and work towards achieving what we were born to do. If your first instinct as a child was to gather up some vessels and make music, chances are that it still is! Hence, this Children's Day, let us resolve to loosen up a bit, and be the person our inner voice has been screaming out to be. After all, we don't really "grow up", we just learn to hide ourselves better.

Happy Children's Day Everyone! Let Us Always Remember To Celebrate The Child In Each One Of Us!

City Lights

She woke up to a morning just like any other, and stared at the rays of the sun glinting through her expensive French windowpane. Everyone talked about the big city lights, but no one had told her about the darkness - when those lights go off, and the sun comes out.

In the big city, she kept stumbling upon people who were running as fast as she was in order to achieve something. In the race to the finish, she had lost many people, and had gained only a few. But, at the end of the day, she wondered if coming home to an empty apartment on the 26th floor had been worth the chase.

Her weekdays were always fast-paced, rushing throughout the day to complete work and then whiling away time with colleagues as evening turned to night. It seemed to her that weekends were reserved for the sole purpose of sitting down and pondering about life, in general.

She had been so busy chasing her dream that she had not looked back even once to contemplate or take a chance at love. She could not trace when that dream ended, and when she woke up to realize that the chase to glory had not been enough to fill her life with contentment? The philosophical books that she often delved in to find answers kept reiterating that happiness is a state of mind, but what was the essence of her life without people to share it with?

A walk down the beach always helped her clear her mind. She saw the young mother struggling to help her toddler build a sandcastle. She smiled at the two girls playing volleyball. There was an old couple sitting not far away. They were sitting down, holding hands, and watching the waves that arrived dancing on the shore. Their serene expressions made her realize the importance of relationships in her life. She realized that she needed to add another point to her chase.

Often the big city lights blurred her vision and drove her to go right to the core of her dreams. Next time, when those lights shut off, she decided to take a closer look at herself in the dark. Darkness was always an honest friend - it ruthlessly told her exactly what was missing in her life without any sugarcoat. It was time for her to start going after that for a while. The big city had appeared to be fun only when she had someone next to her, who saw her for what she was, and noticed things beyond the glitter and glamour - things that the shiny crowd failed to note.

It was now time. It was now time for her to find the knight in shining armour. She had not been designed to play the part of the distressed damsel who needs rescuing. Instead of waiting to be rescued by him for her happily ever after, she needed to wake up and find it herself.

The Understanding

It was a crowded day at the mall. Two friends mercifully managed to get off work early in order to catch up.
"I couldn't wait to see you!" she exclaimed. "He finally proposed!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" came the squeaky high-pitched response.
Both friends embraced each other - one to share her happiness, and the other to mask her state of confusion...

They chattered endlessly while eating dinner. In between bites, the friend spread out a piece of paper and scribbled earnestly. Lots of plans needed to be made. Apparently, an entire childhood had not been enough to fantasize about the dream wedding. The friend continued jotting down finer details of the wedding-dress and the guest-list. She drew out a neat timeline of the tentative flow of events. It gave her some sort of stability and comfort knowing that there was something solid and familiar amidst all the haphazard chaos.

Indeed, the amount of chaos in her mind was tremendous! She was still trying to process all the information. Everything was happening too soon and she could feel the wall that she had built around herself crumbling. From a distance, one could see two friends excitedly talking about the future. Only she knew the true reason behind her incessant babble. She knew if her mouth failed to do its job, her eyes would give away what she was so desperately trying to conceal.

She had always been the spare wheel. Time after time, she had seen her friends jump from one relationship to another until they had finally settled upon 'the one'. She had been with them in all their adversities, nursing them through rejections and break-ups, assuring them that things would be all right. And in the end, things had always fallen into place. Well, for them. Once they had settled in their newly-found haven, they conveniently left her behind.

She had never felt completely isolated for she was approachable and it was easy making new friends. Yet, she missed those who had let her go. Building relationships took time and it wasn't fair to have to build a new one all the time from scratch. Was she so easy to forget, she often wondered to herself. Why was she always just a filler? Surely, her existence had more meaning.

As she reflected on her past friendships, she realized no one had been by her side when her heart got broken. No one cleared their schedule to make time for her even during emergencies while she had always been just a phone call away. Perhaps, she was the problem. Not they. Perhaps, no one would give her a lot of importance until she started prioritizing herself.

Suddenly, she saw her friend staring at her.
"Penny for your thoughts?" remarked the friend. "Where have you drifted?"
"Nothing," she simply shrugged. "I was just thinking of work," she said. "Something funny had happened..."
"Oh, I will hear about that later!" dismissed her friend.
She knew this was the moment. It was up to her to seize it. "No," she snapped. "I would like to talk about it now because 'later' never comes. I am very happy for you. I genuinely am! But have you realized that in this entire while, not once have you asked me how I'm doing? Would you not like to know what is going on at my end?"
Her friend was surprised. Nevertheless, she decided to humour her. "Sure, tell me. Did someone ask you out?"  

The dismissive tone hurt. She realized that she could not expect to be treated the way she desired from her friend. It was her fault, she acknowledged, but there was no point in beating herself over it. It was time to rectify the mistake she had been committing for so many years. She had to respect herself in order to get that respect from others.

"I just remembered that I need to be somewhere," she said. "Sorry, but I really need to go."

She picked up her bag, dished her share of the bill on the table and walked out without looking back even once. She knew she was leaving behind a rather perplexed friend, but her heart skipped with glee at the realization that she was also leaving behind her old inhibited self. The tables were turned and from that moment onward, everything would revolve not around the others but around her and her needs. She had embarked on a new journey and once again, life would become beautiful!

Moving Forward

They met yet again only to talk about work and other vacuities. Suddenly, he glanced at the clock and, with a nod and a smile, indicated that it was time for him to leave. She watched him walk away and wished he would stay a while longer, for the conversation was still not over. She could listen to him talking about things forever.

She loved him. She really did. She was drawn to him the way one's in love with their favourite bar of chocolate - it seems to be the best and one wants to eat it all the time but it's not really a healthy choice.

The love that she had for him consumed her, left her parched and begging for more even after it had dried out and left her for dead. Consumed by his love, she felt as if she was living a fairy-tale for she was obsessed with a love that was not real. She was in love with a love that did not exist.
She loved him more than she loved herself. She idealized him and put him on a pedestal. And, each time, he let her down, she ignored the shattering of her heart. "He's only human," she tried reasoning with herself. "Everyone makes mistakes." She believed he was not doing it on purpose. Love blinded her and she failed to see him for what he was - a self-destructive being that eviscerated every good thing that came his way. She found herself hopelessly devoted to him. She was there for him at every beck and call. Her life revolved around his happiness. Making him happy was no easy task. Sometimes, she messed up and had to face his wrath. But the storm always cleared after a while; and when the sea calmed, she relished in those brief moments of tranquility. For sporadic and fleeting periods of time, the waves stopped relentlessly crashing down her soul, and she found herself starting to trust him again completely.

But in her heart of hearts she knew what was amiss. Secretly, she knew she had become addicted to the pain.  She knew she had loved him more than she had loved herself but true love did not hurt. True love is not an addictive drug.

Finally, she knew it had to end. She had thought him to be her knight in shining armour. But, in reality, she was the one who had been saving him. With this realization, she knew she had to let him go. She had to let him go even though she knew that she could have him all to herself. She loved him and thought the world of him. Still, she had to let him go. She had to let him go because she could not see beyond her inadequacy of being with him.

As she saw him walk out of the door, she felt her heart crumble. She followed him outside and surprised him with a sudden hug. She held him close and felt at home. She felt love - that mysterious thing everyone seems to be indulging in the eternal search for ! She could not let him go. She did not want to! She could not see beyond her inadequacy of calling him - her own, having him all to herself.

But she let him go. She let him go - knowing he was finally home. She found happiness in the belief that he was where he belonged. She had lost her way and needed to find a place she could call home. Home was not where he was. Love did not reside where he did. She needed someone who loved her no matter what. She needed someone who made her feel free. Love always transpired between equals. She needed to find a man who deserved her as much as she deserved him. She needed a man who loved himself in the same manner as she had started loving herself.
In leaving him, she found herself. He was all she had. But she let him go knowing 'she' was all he had.

The Meeting

Note: This entry is a sequel to a former entry "With...Without...". Do re-visit the post if you wish.

Morning arrived the way it always did. She pressed the 'snooze' button and hoped to catch an extra ten minutes of sleep. It had been more than two days since she had gone to work. She could not be absent yet another day. What would she say? She wasn't allowed to call in to work depressed. Mustering all her strength, she dragged her feet out of bed and into the bathroom.

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror while brushing her teeth, she noticed how she seemed to have aged. She noticed her wrinkles and dark spots and wondered if she should try getting her hands on the popular anti-ageing cream she remembering seeing in an advertisement. Chuckling at that thought, she said out loud, "You are too old to be influenced by advertisements! Get a grip of yourself!" The reflection glared back at her. In each other's reflections, they just became uglier.

Work was mundane, as usual. She managed to wrap her work on time, and headed for the bridge overlooking the river...the spot where they had last met. She hadn't visited that place in a while. It looked deserted and forlorn. No one seemed to have come there in quite some time. Weeds were overgrown and the benches were covered with dry leaves of the autumn. She dusted a spot and made herself as comfortable as was possible.

Life had not been easy since he had gone, she reflected. She knew she had built a huge wall around herself which no one was able to break and enter. She had ignored every phone call she possibly could from her social circle of friends, because even though they had been calling the right number, she was no more the person they were looking for. Without him, she was not her old self anymore.

He crossed familiar hills and jaded pathways on his way back. No road was new to him - he had travelled through them all. Yet he seemed to be lost. Was it possible to be lost on the same path one was walking? Was retracing steps a good idea? It had to be! Even if he was lost, he was still walking down his own path - and surely only that could lead him to his destiny. Perhaps, being lost could be holy as well. It gave him time not only to find a completely new life in the cracks, but also to rediscover the old life and see it from a completely new perspective.

He had begun his walk a long time ago and he had no idea when he became utterly lost. He just hoped, as he walked down the recognizable path, his beloved would find him.

Both could not believe the sight that greeted their eye. She saw his silhouette at a distance, and gasped as the figure approached nearer and nearer in view. He had grown a beard and he looked scraggly, but his eyes still had that merry twinkle that always made her go weak at the knee. He stared at her and couldn't believe his eyes! She still looked beautiful. Just the way he remembered her.

"I can't believe you are really here!" she screamed.
"Neither can I," he winked.
"So, is it love, or is it a habit?" she mused.
"I think it's a good habit! One that I'd like to keep," he answered cheekily.

She still found it hard to believe he was back. Was his quest over? "So, you found God finally?" she managed to ask.
"Ah, no! God found me," he said and stared at her intently.
"...And I trust Him more not to leave," she finished his thought, and put an end to all possible dialogue by sealing his lips with a much-awaited kiss and enveloping herself in his arms for a much-needed embrace.

The Golden Rule

It has never been difficult for me to press the 'Delete' button on people I don't want in my life. I've said so many goodbyes that I don't even remember all of them; but I think I'm still not prepared for this last one. I need one where I shall be able to muster all the courage I have to say all that I need to so that when I say I'm done, I will actually be able to truly let go.

In my experience, "equal" relationships are rare because in every relationship (even friendship for that matter), there's always someone who cares more or compromises more than the other person. I remember of times when I was in relationships or friendships where everything revolved around me. Those friendships gave me a strange sense of power - they made me feel important. I was human and I made mistakes. There were times when I didn't treat them right and denied giving them the love and respect they deserved.

Our society works in a strange fashion. It's always "cool" to seem disinterested. People who can hide their true feelings are actually considered winners because they don't seem to care. If you are a person who cares more and genuinely expresses your feelings, you are doomed to be branded as a "loser".

Back in those days, I thought I had everything going. I was achieving all my professional goals. I was always surrounded by people who would be willing to kiss the ground on which I walked; and no, I am not exaggerating. I seemed to have it all. But karma truly is a bitch for it works in strange ways. I have no clue when or how the tables turned and I ended up becoming the person who cares more. Currently, I seem to be surrounded by only those people in my life who will let me down. No matter how much the other person claims to care, I don't matter to them as much as they do to me; and no matter what I do, it's never going to be enough for them to care for me the same amount.

I know I am not being completely truthful when I say that I haven't got a clue for I do know exactly when this started. The first time the inkling of doubt popped up that X did not care for  me the way I did, I  was dismissive. But as that doubt started creeping up more and more frequently, I actually started holding back. At that time, I knew X would notice, bring it up and fix things. How naive of me! X never noticed; or perhaps, and I am not sure which is worse, X noticed and chose to do nothing about it. From that point on, I started holding back as much as I could. We spoke less and met even more infrequently. The rare times that we did meet, I never disclosed my discontent and though I was extremely upset, I never showed it. But honestly, I felt let down. With time, the aloofness between us has grown so much that even if we meet, we act no better than strangers and the only appropriate reply to a simple question like "How are you?" is "I'm fine, thank you." even though in reality, nothing is "fine".

True love is unconditional but it is natural for expectations to develop if one invests a lot of time and effort in a relationship. It hurts when these expectations are dashed to the ground but no matter how wounded I am, it is almost impossible for me to loathe X. Even though X made me unhappy and contaminated my system with negative thoughts to an extent where I doubted whether I was even deserving of love in the first place, X taught me a very valuable lesson - that of treating others the way one wants to be treated.

Earlier,  the Golden Rule, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you," was just a line; but now, I fully abide by it. I am now kinder, more patient and hopefully, less narcissistic than before. I am more expressive and I don't need to resort to ridicule anymore in order to show affection.  With time, I hope that my scars will heal. I will forever be thankful to X for having taught me this lesson, but in my heart of hearts, I still wish I could have learnt this lesson in another, slightly painless, way...

Our Math

We live in a world where figures are given a lot of importance. We need to keep count of everything - time, money, odds, gifts, pros and cons, and so on...We are even instructed to count our blessings!

I love that between us, there are no ledgers to be maintained. There are people in this world who can love and calculate simultaneously but I am glad of our mutual incapacity to do so. I love that you allow me to shut my mental calculator because yours does not function either. Or maybe, we do count but in a rather twisted way.

"You called me only once today while I called you four times." - In the way we count, it only means that we spoke to each other five times. I am glad we do not count and settle on the numbers of things we love and hate about each other, or check on which outweighs which. It's relieving to see that instead, we choose to dwell in the depths of knowing each other's best and worst, and in loving each other because of and in spite of everything.

I could say I love you with all of myself, as fully, as wholly as I can, but I cannot measure the love, because there is no measurement scale that I know of for spaces beyond the infinite. Just like a count of the visits one makes to the temple or the formal prayers one recites is not even the slightest measure of one's degree of faith, how often we acknowledge our love for each other, how many gifts we give and receive between us, how many common friends we have - nothing really is a yardstick to measure our equation of love.

And despite all of this, when one of us fails to fail at relationship math, and either of us says anything that sounds like "you never do this right" or "you are always wrong", I love how the other can usually see through the mindlessly uttered blanket statement, and understand the creases.
Sometimes, we both fail. We make mistakes, and when we do, we count what we learnt, and we count the opportunities we have to make those wrongs right.

So, I figure our relationship does have math but, thankfully, not the kind of complexities that require a mental calculator. It is just basic math that the heart does of its own accord. And even if we try, there is no denying that we do, in fact, count. We count on each other; and the best part of such a calculation is that neither of us is ever let down. 

Old Conversations

I like going back to old conversations.

Letter-writing went out of fashion a generation or two before us. Today, we neither have the perfume nor the handwriting. We have nothing to touch, nothing to hold. I would rather keep turning pages and pages of long, long letters but I try to make do with what we've got.  

I scroll up our chat-archive; up, up and up until I find conversations garnished generously with " :P ". Then, I scroll down slowly to find more " :) ". It may mean nothing but to me it marks an important transition. It's when the need to pretend you were just kidding when you said something nice gave way to saying it, and letting me know that you really meant it.

The conversation never ends. I know when you woke up and what you did all day. I know where you went, with whom you were, what you ate, what made you angry and when you slept. It really isn't a lot of important information but it made me feel really special knowing the ordinary things about somebody.

I like going back to old conversations especially those that we pretend never happened; those that we will never have again. I go back to them to find some lost happiness; and I do, but now it is tinged with pain. Not intense; but chronic.

So much has changed. It is awkward to even say "hi" anymore. Wouldn't it be better if we pretended to not know each other when we meet now? It feels worse to just shake hands and meet like acquaintances. But it doesn't matter. You and I will just be a fraction of all the letting go we will have to do in our respective lives.

Have I let go? I like to think that I most certainly have. It isn't really about  reminiscing anymore or even regretting. It is more about acceptance that all this is a part and parcel of life. Some stories find their conclusions while others just meander their way into oblivion.

If I have let go, why do I still go back to our old conversations? It is a tough one to explain, but I think I go back to feel sane. It would drive you crazy to feel a great pain in your shoulders for no reason, but if you saw your dismembered arms, it'd make sense that it hurts. The old conversations will always bear testimony to the fact that there was something we let go of.

An evening by myself usually leads my thoughts to strange places. I'd much rather step out, get a good cup of coffee, and find someone to have new conversations.

Sweet Vengeance

"What are you doing here?" she stared in astonishment at the man standing in front of her, outside the entrance of the airport.
"You really thought I would let you go without saying a good-bye?" he exclaimed with an expression of fake horror.
"You do know I am not going forever, right?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. "I will be back."
"I know," he replied nonchalantly. "That doesn't mean I can't come to the airport and see you off."
"Fine," she sighed. "Let's not argue. Say your good-byes, give me a hug and let me go. I don't want to be late - I want a window seat!"
He chuckled. "I wish you would pre-book your seats."
"No more lectures," she groaned and put her arms around him.
"Take care," he said. "I hate it when you go away - even though I  know it's only for a few weeks."
"Really?" she said with a look of disbelief though she could not stop a smile from escaping her lips.
"Of course," he said. "Every time you leave, I feel you take with you a piece of my heart. Thankfully, you come back and the piece gets restored again to its rightful owner."
"Ha! Ha! Very funny," she laughed. "Since when did you start sounding so cheesy?"
He suddenly pulled her closer to him, "You  know I love you, right?"
Startled at his sudden declaration, she just brushed him aside, "Sure, if you say so." She wasn't sure if she really believed him.
As if he had read her mind, he continued, "I know there are times when you think I do not care. The truth is..." he paused. She stared at him as he nervously looked down at the ground whilst shuffling his feet. He continued, "The truth is that I care a lot about you. I may not express it and I know that hurts you but I do love you." He looked at her. There seemed to be no visible reaction on her face. "What's wrong? Don't tell me that you had no clue about the way I felt about you!"
A sad smile appeared on her face. "There was a time when I thought I would die of ecstasy if you ever came and told me that you love me."
"But now, you feel differently?" he asked with a somewhat hurt look on his face.
"I love you," she said. "I always have; and I don't think I know how to re-program my system to stop loving you. Believe me for I have tried! But I cannot be with you."
"What do you mean?" he asked. "We both love each other. What's the problem?"
"Love," she replied.
"I don't understand," he said perplexed.
"You don't have to," she reassured him. "I need to go now. I cannot afford to miss this plane!"

She walked straight inside the airport successfully fighting all temptation to turn back and look at him one last time. He was still standing there, looking at her until he could see her no more. Nothing had gone according to plan. He found her behaviour confusing. Why had she said she could not be with him if she loved him? He could feel the anger welling up inside him as he realized how he could never get a grip on what was happening inside her head.

She knew she had walked off without explaining herself. She knew he was bound to be very puzzled by her behaviour. She felt a sense of guilt surging up her chest but she buried it inside as immediately as it had surfaced. She would not justify herself to him or anyone. She had spent many a night waiting to accept the love that she thought she deserved. Each moment of disappointment killed a part of her until she was in so much pain that she started hating the person who had made her experience the hurt in the first place. That started a new cycle of hate where she started despising herself for being incapable of 'unconditional love'.
His confession had surprised her but she, herself, was stunned at her indifference to his  words. Although she hated to admit it, she actually felt a part of her smiling wickedly for turning him down. He would now get a taste of his own medicine and learn what it felt like to have your love ignored or rejected. Vengeance was, indeed, sweet. She smiled to herself as she sat on the window-seat of the flight.

Unknowingly, his profession of love had helped her reconnect with the most important person in her life - her. Her feeling of self-loathe seemed to have evaporated and re-instilled in her a new sense of adoration for herself. She knew she still cared about him and she'd be there for him when he needed her but she no more worshipped him the way she used to before. She had gone back to her old affair of loving herself more than anyone.

Message In A Bottle

They sat at the sea-shore knowing that the time to bid farewell had arrived.
"Each time you leave me with more questions than answers," he complained.
"You, no more, sort things out for me," she retorted. "No longer do you iron out my doubts, fold neatly my dilemmas and no more do you leave me well-stocked on enough clarity to face life."
"You will need a housekeeper for that, my love," he teased her in reply. "Not me."

"Time flies when we are together," she pondered.
"I wonder if time flies," he replied, "Or if it is feelings which have flown?"
With a heavy heart she sighed, "What can I say? I know I have to let go of you as we depart to distant shores. I know a part of me aches when there seems no ache of parting in yours."
He simply smiled, "I have witnessed many more partings than you; yet in each parting, I experience an ache anew. If  you were to move from your head to your heart, you would feel it too."

She looked at him with tear-filled eyes and poured out all that she had stored in her heart, "There used to be a time when we would exchange messages in bottles made of sighs. I would float my feelings on a thought and you would catch and expand them on your island. Thus, we were tied across the waves of life...But these days, why do I feel as if we are caught up in separating tides?"
His voice remained calm as his eyes shifted in a thoughtful gaze, "Yes, there was a time when you floated your feelings of heart-felt desire. But these days, you have started building a ship to endure doubts within those very sighs. You guard the bottle of doubts, not allowing the contents to float away. There's only so much a bottle can hold - doubts or desires - choose one to drop away."
"Would you rather I allow my desires to find their own way?" she quizzed.
He replied, "How does one sail through life without a compass of security to show the way?"

She stayed silent, settled in her bottle. He stared silent, at the lap of the waves. In the absence of intent, the currents of life drifted them away to where stories without ends somehow find their place.

What The Little Prince Taught Me...

I have always believed that learning knows no age. Every person who crosses our path has the power to teach us a valuable lesson or two if only we remain receptive and open to the learning process. A lot of adults around give me a quizzical expression when I tell them that grownups can learn so many things from children. Their sense of disbelief transports me to the pages of a book titled The Little Prince which charmingly illuminates the gap between children and grownups. It was quite by chance that I happened to stumble upon this particular book but it is one that I would recommend everyone to read.

Written by Antoine De Saint-Exupery (originally in French), the deceptively simple story of a pilot's encounter with a small boy from another planet actually offers a wealth of insight to an adult who chooses to pay attention to the hidden meanings behind the written text.

 The narrator mentions how, with age, we seem to lose interest in what is really important in life. We are only interested in how things appear at the surface-level without bothering to dig beneath.

Recently, a friend and I were discussing how, as we grow old, we lose our sense of wonder. A friend of mine keeps getting exasperated at my childlike exclamations of "Wow!" each time I find something that fascinates me. I do not blame her. As we start ageing, the way in which we see the world changes. According to me, as we grow up, we stop engaging with the world. It's not that we cannot do it. We just choose not to.Not every individual is able to uphold the sense of amazement or of the sheer enjoyment of life. As we grow up, we lose sight of the endless possibilities that life has to offer which was so apparent to our younger selves. Wisdom may involve being more in command of our thoughts, faculties and desires but I believe that the very experience which helps us become successful threatens to limit our imagination and our sense of the possible.

As a child, it is acceptable to believe that anything and everything is possible. Setbacks in life make us more aware of our limitations. But what is wrong in being a dreamer? In The Little Prince, the author mentions how grownups are only interested in figures when, in fact, for those "who understand life, figures are a matter of indifference". He goes on to explain how grownups are never interested in asking "questions about essential matters" - for example, when their child makes a new friend, instead of wanting to know about his hobbies and interests, they are more interested in knowing his age and his father's income. I couldn't help but chuckle while reading that part - it reminded me of the time when I had been given the responsibility of selecting candidates for an interview based on the resumes they had mailed. I had found myself wondering, "How in the world can I possibly select five from this lot which appears to have the same amount of qualifications and experience?"

I love the way in which Saint-Exupery turns the tables in his book and actually makes the adults appear as the absurd ones instead of the children. Some may argue that my appreciation for this book stems from the self-satisfaction gained from the reasoning that I am not one of the unimaginative grownups scorned in the story but I firmly believe that The Little Prince will inspire people to shift their attention from pointless or self-centered ambitions to things that make our life more meaningful and worthwhile.

Below are some lines from the book that struck a chord. I hope they inspire you enough to read the book, The Little Prince:

• Only with the heart can one see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.
• "What makes the desert beautiful," says the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."
• "Then you shall judge yourself," the king answered. "That is the most difficult thing of all. It is much more difficult to judge oneself than to judge others. If you succeed in judging yourself rightly, then you are indeed a man of true wisdom."
• Language is the source of misunderstandings.
• I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never done anything in his life but add up figures. And all day he says over and over again, "I am busy with matters of consequence!
• One only understands the things that one tames. Men have no more time to understanding anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship.
• It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

Voids And Discoveries

He turned around to look at her one last time before he proceeded through the departure gates to board his flight. He wished she had accompanied him on his journey but their paths were completely divergent. He was travelling to his future - a land of many promises. Even though he had never gone there before, he was sure everything would be bright and beautiful for he was going to a place that had infinite potential.

She had chosen to stay behind. She considered the past to be a shrine that needed to be preserved. Reliable and unchanging, it provided her with an insight  to the beginning of everything as it gave her a sense of centre and stability.

As she watched him go, she had a sudden urge to leave her familiar path, catch his hand and travel his journey. It was not as if the thought hadn't occurred to her before. But each time she pondered over the matter, she realized that it wasn't the right thing to do for it would forever create a dent in her soul.

He had left his lover behind to completely submit himself to the quest of self-discovery even if it meant conversing with every piece of stone and pebble that created a dent under his sole.

As she walked back home, she hated to admit to herself that she was actually not feeling miserable. Even though he was gone, she did not really feel that she was missing anything in her life.

He cared for her a lot but he knew he could not be in love always. His life had always felt complete until she came along and made him realize what he had been missing all this time. Like a mirror, she reflected what was absent rather than what was present and helped him see the void in his soul -a void he had always resisted seeing. It was ironic that the one who had shown him the mirror of his soul and motivated him to step out of his zone of comfort could not leave her stability-zone behind and venture out to search for her missing pieces.

She stopped at a fountain and sat looking at the flow of water, coming from within and flowing outward. She felt it was metaphorical. By choosing to not walk the same path as he, she was kind of going through the same process of going within, digging inside so much that she ended up drooling out the same things repeatedly; only sometimes discovering some wisdom that kept her in the space of a momentary euphoric moment. She had no control over it and it always left her in a void; making her wonder what just happened and what was all that wisdom about. So far, the only discovery she had made was that she needed to feel someone caressing her body so that her soul would feel that it was alright to find nothing on the path that she had chosen to walk.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she, once again, felt she should have travelled with him. It would help her overcome her grief of not finding any wisdom and the joy of the many voids which were present on her journey.

He knew she would not have regretted her decision of walking down his road. He would have taken her to the beach where they would have sat together and watched the sea move. The waves that were unnoticeable from a distance would slowly appear as a slight bump until they got bigger and bigger as they came closer. When almost at the shore, the wave would look gigantic and crash with enormous power, and then soothe. He was sure that she would have liked watching this sight - it represented both of them going in and out of each other's heart, sometimes discovering something profound and sometimes just encountering a void. He felt, almost relieved, that he had left his old ways - somehow love felt like a drug that made one enjoy experiencing the same thing over and over again - he was glad he had overcome this addiction and discovered his zeal to travel on a path to a new existence.

No matter which path each had chosen, deep inside, both felt somewhat incomplete. Both had lost something which they wished they could get back. Both of them still continued to walk down their different paths, experiencing the same alternating incidents of voids and discoveries on their respective journeys. Hopefully, they would meet at a water-body someday.