Yet another year

It’s been yet another year that has passed, with little change, little progress, little anything.

Except memories.
And problems.
And considerations.

That’s what “future” looked like, a year ago.

Ah, the dangers of the festive season. Some see its beauty, others – melancholy.

No phone?

Do you remember those days when we would set an appointment with friends to meet at a specific time and place?

No. No-one remembers those days.

“What do you mean you won’t have a phone for a few days?”
“How in the world am I going to be able to find you later?”
“Which street, again?”
“What if I can’t make it at this time tomorrow?”

Do we wonder how we used to be able to remember days, dates, places, and directions so much better in the past?

More so – we were once more responsible.
We were more specific – we had to make sure we would see the ones we wished to see.
We were more organised – we planned our day and gave buffer for traveling and traffic.
We were more reliable – it wasn’t as easy as sending a text when we wanted to cancel appointments.

It wasn’t going offline that mattered. It was what the phone and laptops held that mattered. I did not suffer from phone separation technology, though I did get a good lashing from many for going off the grid. But really, how long can we remain offline?
Ah, the dangers of technology…

“and I don’t want to change your life…”

He heard the song on radio, repeating lines he no longer knew if they were true.

He hadn’t realised how much his life had changed since he had met her.
It had only been three months since their last meeting, but each day that went by without her presence felt worse.

He didn’t want to change her life; he couldn’t, anyway.
The knowledge pained him – wanting so badly to, yet knowing he shouldn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t.

It wasn’t as if she would agree to it; she had too much to lose.
It wasn’t as if she would, anyway; because she would never know.
No, he didn’t want to change her life, but he missed every moment he once had with her.
He didn’t deserve her time. He wasn’t entitled to see her smile. He had no right to hold her. Because someone else did.

“And I don’t want to change your life…” the song played on.
Didn’t he? How imprudent of him to have gotten into this state. Pathetic, to say the least.

He knew he couldn’t change her life; he could only walk away and slip away into the darkness…

worthlessness

The concept of worthlessness was thoroughly explored, examined, and assessed. It was great. It was immense. It was poignant. It was everything that made a person feel terrible. It was what made a person die inside. It was something that could kill. It was tedious. It was horrendous. It was ….

It was simply too tiring to complete this post.

Balancing act

 

Some people say things they don’t mean.
Others say things they don’t know if they mean.

Some times we trust.
Other times, we think we trust.

Some take words lightly.
Others take light words seriously.

How do we balance the emotions of indebtedness against the strong resistance to trust?
How do we tell when to say what we feel, and when to trust what others say they feel?

You’ll never find the answers

They told me “You’ll never find the answers”.

“She doesn’t like to talk about her past.”
“Why would she ever tell you things she’d kept in her heart since forever?”
“I don’t think she really knows either.”
“We’ve known her this long and she hasn’t said a thing about it.”
“She’s not going to open up to you.”

I guess they were right.
I never had to find the answers; she gave them to me.
It took time, trust, and an understanding – things that some did not want to spend or offer.

Now, if only they had used the time to listen, instead of speculating…

That quiet man there

That quiet man there – he keeps his head lowered as he works tirelessly. He’ll shoulder the loads and go the extra mile as long as it’ll ease someone’s burden and get the job done.

He is technically skilful. In fact, he is over-qualified for any work he does.
He speaks eight languages. He has an invincible grasp of human needs. He understands the depths of Man’s emotions.

But no, he wouldn’t speak – at least, not unnecessarily.

When the day ends, he ties all the loose ends even as everyone else rushes off and bunches up in crowds to chat. As they disperse, he walks down the dark pathway, against the bustling traffic, alone.

That quiet man there – I wonder, why does he do what he does? What goes on in his mind?