"I'll show you what it's like.. to be the last one standing.."
I moved to Bombay when I was barely ten months old. I couldn't walk, and crawling was the only way to my freedom. It's been seventeen years since I first walked within those very four walls of my home, stood on my feet, ready to face the world.. and now seventeen years hence, I'm back to where I started. Crawling. The only difference being that I'm on my way out. Out to face the world, out to stand on my feet, this time, for real. No parental support, no teacher standing up to me. Friends I grew up with.. withering away, all forgotten like some distant memory I saw in last night's dream. I'm crawling my way out to that distance.. the distance that'll separate us all, and the very thought fills me up with cynicism. Fear.
The truth is I'm scared. Honestly, I'm scared. I'm not afraid of moving ahead, and meeting new people, making new friends, exploring the world outside. I'm afraid of losing out on yesteryear in the process. "Rosebud." A few years later, I might realise that the only time in my life when I was happy, really happy.. content.. was in those seventeen years. A time with no strings attached. No hatred, no jealousy. Just pure joy, as blissful as ignorance. Probably, running hand in hand with my first friend, falling down, getting hurt, and being knocked unconscious, was the best feeling I ever had. Maybe, laughing with them, taunting the others, and feeling free, actually meant something special. Growing up, this acquaintance develops into friendship, and this friendship into brotherhood. Bliss.
Then there were girls. Lust, or whatever you call desire.. "Appreciation of physical beauty in its raw form is one of the most natural of all human tendencies. It electrifies our senses, makes them come alive." The cause for many a fight. I've been through it all. Made friends, and lost better ones, in this war for vanity. Trust deceieved, love betrayed, and a jaded past. Ultimately, it all comes down to nothing.. Nothing, but a memory you'll regret all your life. Where, oh where could it 've possibly gone wrong? Why, oh why! Hurt.
The older we grow, the more we learn.. and the more we learn.. the worse we become. Our seven deadly sins get moulded to combat the world, and that's where cynicism comes in play. The world is a dirty place, and the dirt shapes ourselves for an uncertain tomorrow. Fear.
The last few weeks in this place are the worst. I stand here, falsely believing that I'm strong.. strong enough to face the disappearance of many a good memory. Strong enough to watch everyone leave, and be the last one standing. I look around, I see him leave. I look the other way, I see her leave.. and I see that She just does not care. "Passing phase," She says. "Come, and go.." I continue to believe that I shall be strong enough to take it all. It had always been my dream to live beyond the horizon, in a world of freedom, hiding behind some celestial body, so the sharp embers of the world never touch me. I look forward to it all, but the truth of the truth comes crashing down on me, and consumes me in slow decay. Seeing everyone depart, and being the last one to depart.. withers me. Sigh, vanity. The truth is.. I can't take it. I attend all the goodbyes, and see the tears shed. Probably shed a few myself, and still believe in my strength. I am what I choose to be. I choose to be strong, but my insides, like some cookie, crumble. And, when you're the last individual left, your yesterday, tomorrow, and today seem totally futile all of a sudden, like a lost cause in a battle. Lost.
Not being there with your friends when you should be, stings me. I'm moving away into a new world, a new tomorrow awaits me.. A world where I'll live for five whole years, an entire life might be lost in that time, and by the time I return (if ever!), I might not even be myself to return. I'll be taking all my own decisions, and probably never wanting to return to this city that I've grown up in, this city that has taught me to see the world with my own eyes, this city that has taught me to live. Many years later, you might remember this guy who used to talk, and laugh with every awake breath.. you might remember how much he would give to see the world at peace.. you might remember how much he would laze around, and yet do anything to make you believe in yourself. But, it wouldn't matter, 'cause that guy would then be dead, and a new slave for money would be born. A slave who is taught to fight for nothing but himself, who has to subdue his own ethics to survive in his world, and trust the law more than morality, to continue walking on his chosen path. Again, fear.
I pursue happyness, but I fail to realise that with every step forward, every word said, I'm moving away, far away from my desires. I might be free in many ways in my new world, but I shall never be happy. I'm moving away from all that was joy to me, from all that loved me, and from all that I loved.. And as a friend puts it.. "I cannot promise you that we'll be friends forever, but I can promise you that I shall never forget you." I hope many years later, we meet again someday.. somewhere in the corners of a dream village, and reminisce the times we spent laughing, and talking.. And, living like there's no tomorrow. Joy.
To all my friends, and Mumbai,
Amen.
I moved to Bombay when I was barely ten months old. I couldn't walk, and crawling was the only way to my freedom. It's been seventeen years since I first walked within those very four walls of my home, stood on my feet, ready to face the world.. and now seventeen years hence, I'm back to where I started. Crawling. The only difference being that I'm on my way out. Out to face the world, out to stand on my feet, this time, for real. No parental support, no teacher standing up to me. Friends I grew up with.. withering away, all forgotten like some distant memory I saw in last night's dream. I'm crawling my way out to that distance.. the distance that'll separate us all, and the very thought fills me up with cynicism. Fear.
The truth is I'm scared. Honestly, I'm scared. I'm not afraid of moving ahead, and meeting new people, making new friends, exploring the world outside. I'm afraid of losing out on yesteryear in the process. "Rosebud." A few years later, I might realise that the only time in my life when I was happy, really happy.. content.. was in those seventeen years. A time with no strings attached. No hatred, no jealousy. Just pure joy, as blissful as ignorance. Probably, running hand in hand with my first friend, falling down, getting hurt, and being knocked unconscious, was the best feeling I ever had. Maybe, laughing with them, taunting the others, and feeling free, actually meant something special. Growing up, this acquaintance develops into friendship, and this friendship into brotherhood. Bliss.
Then there were girls. Lust, or whatever you call desire.. "Appreciation of physical beauty in its raw form is one of the most natural of all human tendencies. It electrifies our senses, makes them come alive." The cause for many a fight. I've been through it all. Made friends, and lost better ones, in this war for vanity. Trust deceieved, love betrayed, and a jaded past. Ultimately, it all comes down to nothing.. Nothing, but a memory you'll regret all your life. Where, oh where could it 've possibly gone wrong? Why, oh why! Hurt.
The older we grow, the more we learn.. and the more we learn.. the worse we become. Our seven deadly sins get moulded to combat the world, and that's where cynicism comes in play. The world is a dirty place, and the dirt shapes ourselves for an uncertain tomorrow. Fear.
Not being there with your friends when you should be, stings me. I'm moving away into a new world, a new tomorrow awaits me.. A world where I'll live for five whole years, an entire life might be lost in that time, and by the time I return (if ever!), I might not even be myself to return. I'll be taking all my own decisions, and probably never wanting to return to this city that I've grown up in, this city that has taught me to see the world with my own eyes, this city that has taught me to live. Many years later, you might remember this guy who used to talk, and laugh with every awake breath.. you might remember how much he would give to see the world at peace.. you might remember how much he would laze around, and yet do anything to make you believe in yourself. But, it wouldn't matter, 'cause that guy would then be dead, and a new slave for money would be born. A slave who is taught to fight for nothing but himself, who has to subdue his own ethics to survive in his world, and trust the law more than morality, to continue walking on his chosen path. Again, fear.
I pursue happyness, but I fail to realise that with every step forward, every word said, I'm moving away, far away from my desires. I might be free in many ways in my new world, but I shall never be happy. I'm moving away from all that was joy to me, from all that loved me, and from all that I loved.. And as a friend puts it.. "I cannot promise you that we'll be friends forever, but I can promise you that I shall never forget you." I hope many years later, we meet again someday.. somewhere in the corners of a dream village, and reminisce the times we spent laughing, and talking.. And, living like there's no tomorrow. Joy.
To all my friends, and Mumbai,
Amen.
pure, pure emotion...well written Mr. De! =)
ReplyDeleteThank you. :)
ReplyDelete