It has been sometime since I have written anything worth reading. Actually pretty long time. Life has kept me busy with stuff and thus I ended up not doing something which I really love to do. Strange are the ways of life, isn't it.
Then how did I get a chance and urge to write today? Well over a period of last couple of days I have been facing a little crisis in my life. In the large scheme of things this incident probably would not matter. However I seem to be obsessing about the turn of events so fervently that it is rendering me unable to focus on anything positive.
We make mistakes in life. And we have to live with the consequences of those mistakes. However our mind cannot help but think that things could have turned out different if that mistake was not made. This constant brooding of what-if scenarios constantly plays out in the subconscious and makes us restless and actively idle! Yes, your read right, we are super active in thought process - but not going anywhere, kind of like pushing the wall with all our strength, or accelerating a car with brakes on.
The irony always is that we know deep down in our hearts that this exercise is futile. Whatever has happened has happened and cannot be undone. But this becomes like a perennial itch and one just cannot stop!
I have been itching this nether in my mind for sometime. I have tried to resolve against it, tried to convince myself that whatever happens, happens for good - but I have again fallen into the same deep dark abyss of nowhere.
So I decided I will write about this. Writing they say is therapeutic. I need to purge myself of this self imposed agony.
But before I write off that, I must acknowledge that my mistake is a costly one. Quite possible, the path we were onto will no longer happen. Quite possible it is delayed. There are so many unknowns now in something which once was a sureshot road. All culminating down to that focal point when I was ignorant and impatient.
But this does not mean end of life. And this certainly does not mean that life will be devoid of fun and all the good things it has to offer. I must gather my pieces. I must start walking again. I must get hold of myself and take that next step.
I know that whatever happens, happens for good. The good may not be apparent now, but it will reveal itself, sometimes directly, and sometimes indirectly over the course of life. But good it shall be for.
I also know that I can choose to sit and continue brooding over what has happened. Or I can start taking steps again towards my life's path. One thing is certain. If I do nothing, nothing will happen.
I must walk. I must focus and do what I got to do. I cannot let my life slip away like this. It is not just my life. There are other precious life threads attached to mine and I have to do it for all of us.
Yes, it is not easy. I wish someone could come and tell me why it happened - and what will happen? The suspense is unnerving. But then, all things worthwhile are not easy to achieve. While I cannot see horizon - I cannot stop walking. The hope is a dangerous thing they say - it can keep one moving even when there is no ground. I must still cling to hope and keep walking. If I am not to get what I wanted - there must be something else, much better in store for me. Maybe this song was not mine. But there must be some other fulfilment, some other places to reach, some other songs to sing.
I am credibly sad. I do not feel like doing anything. Yet I cannot give up. I know in my heart that I can gather myself. It just seems incredibly hard. It used to be easier for me earlier to pick myself from dust. May be I was younger. May be I was a dreamer. But then it was same me. I have to get myself out of this on my own.
I hope I will be led by the same light which has kept me going all these years. I hope that this time, when I fall down, that light will carress me and inspire me to shake off the dust and keep moving forward. I hope that I will be able to walk inspite of all the heartache of failure. And I hope that the joy of moving will overcome the grief of past failures.
It happened because it was meant to be. I know it is not easy to accept this. But then it is the only universal truth. If something else was destined, it would have happened.
So, here I am. Let me start, one more time, all over again. Let me soar my broken wings and try rising again. Let me embrace the love of life and let it heal my soul. Let me sing that awkward rhyme, all over again. Who knows, I might be succesful this time? And if I fail, I at least would have enjoyed playing the game. There will be another one, again.
The pain is nothing but an illusion of my mind, I must be able to fight it. I am not alone. With my love and loved ones, I know I can soar the skies, once again. The pain is not my destiny. It is there to make me realize that life is not all bed of roses. It will keep me grounded. But it will not take my ability to move forward in life from me.
I can, and so I will.
Then how did I get a chance and urge to write today? Well over a period of last couple of days I have been facing a little crisis in my life. In the large scheme of things this incident probably would not matter. However I seem to be obsessing about the turn of events so fervently that it is rendering me unable to focus on anything positive.
We make mistakes in life. And we have to live with the consequences of those mistakes. However our mind cannot help but think that things could have turned out different if that mistake was not made. This constant brooding of what-if scenarios constantly plays out in the subconscious and makes us restless and actively idle! Yes, your read right, we are super active in thought process - but not going anywhere, kind of like pushing the wall with all our strength, or accelerating a car with brakes on.
The irony always is that we know deep down in our hearts that this exercise is futile. Whatever has happened has happened and cannot be undone. But this becomes like a perennial itch and one just cannot stop!
I have been itching this nether in my mind for sometime. I have tried to resolve against it, tried to convince myself that whatever happens, happens for good - but I have again fallen into the same deep dark abyss of nowhere.
So I decided I will write about this. Writing they say is therapeutic. I need to purge myself of this self imposed agony.
But before I write off that, I must acknowledge that my mistake is a costly one. Quite possible, the path we were onto will no longer happen. Quite possible it is delayed. There are so many unknowns now in something which once was a sureshot road. All culminating down to that focal point when I was ignorant and impatient.
But this does not mean end of life. And this certainly does not mean that life will be devoid of fun and all the good things it has to offer. I must gather my pieces. I must start walking again. I must get hold of myself and take that next step.
I know that whatever happens, happens for good. The good may not be apparent now, but it will reveal itself, sometimes directly, and sometimes indirectly over the course of life. But good it shall be for.
I also know that I can choose to sit and continue brooding over what has happened. Or I can start taking steps again towards my life's path. One thing is certain. If I do nothing, nothing will happen.
I must walk. I must focus and do what I got to do. I cannot let my life slip away like this. It is not just my life. There are other precious life threads attached to mine and I have to do it for all of us.
Yes, it is not easy. I wish someone could come and tell me why it happened - and what will happen? The suspense is unnerving. But then, all things worthwhile are not easy to achieve. While I cannot see horizon - I cannot stop walking. The hope is a dangerous thing they say - it can keep one moving even when there is no ground. I must still cling to hope and keep walking. If I am not to get what I wanted - there must be something else, much better in store for me. Maybe this song was not mine. But there must be some other fulfilment, some other places to reach, some other songs to sing.
I am credibly sad. I do not feel like doing anything. Yet I cannot give up. I know in my heart that I can gather myself. It just seems incredibly hard. It used to be easier for me earlier to pick myself from dust. May be I was younger. May be I was a dreamer. But then it was same me. I have to get myself out of this on my own.
I hope I will be led by the same light which has kept me going all these years. I hope that this time, when I fall down, that light will carress me and inspire me to shake off the dust and keep moving forward. I hope that I will be able to walk inspite of all the heartache of failure. And I hope that the joy of moving will overcome the grief of past failures.
It happened because it was meant to be. I know it is not easy to accept this. But then it is the only universal truth. If something else was destined, it would have happened.
So, here I am. Let me start, one more time, all over again. Let me soar my broken wings and try rising again. Let me embrace the love of life and let it heal my soul. Let me sing that awkward rhyme, all over again. Who knows, I might be succesful this time? And if I fail, I at least would have enjoyed playing the game. There will be another one, again.
The pain is nothing but an illusion of my mind, I must be able to fight it. I am not alone. With my love and loved ones, I know I can soar the skies, once again. The pain is not my destiny. It is there to make me realize that life is not all bed of roses. It will keep me grounded. But it will not take my ability to move forward in life from me.
I can, and so I will.
