Culture, experience, life, Random, roads

Of Memories And Moving On

A memory. It’s like sand, brittle rock — a shard of the original substance, a snapshot in a long and confusing movie, a particle of space and time. It’s minuscule but it lingers. It will swallow you up if you let it. It’s like going on a fast, you feel satisfied at first, but you always end up starving.

You can explain a memory to someone, but you can’t make them feel it. You can’t describe how your heart skips a beat when a certain someone looks deeply into your eyes. You can’t recreate the overwhelming content that rushes over when you win after losing for so long. You can’t explain the adrenaline surging through when you are on a roller coaster.

We all get frustrated when we romanticize the past. We miss the things we’ve lost, the places we’ve left, and the people we used to be. We miss the times that were familiar, and we long for the moments that have gone by. But you can’t live through memories, and you don’t grow by being comfortable. You have to fail before you can dream, and you have to hurt before you can love. You must bleed for the wound to heal, but eventually you need to slap on a band-aid and get on with your life.

And that’s what I try to do.

A memory: I was drowning.
And then I learned how to swim.
Towards a brighter future.

Advertisements
experience, life, Random, world

Is it Meant to be or Not to be?

More often than not, we have all been asked this question, “Do you believe in destiny?“. Yes, destiny is such a great concept. I wish it were true. I hope it’s true. But I’m just not so sure it is.

 Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker? (Garth Nix, Sabriel)

If destiny exists, then why make an effort? What’s done is done. There is nothing you can do to change the inexorable progression of fate, so why try? People might say: “I’m just born under a bad star/planet. Life has been very unkind to me.” In that sense, I think blind belief in destiny is very dangerous.

Moreover, if you think of yourself as just a mote of dust getting pushed and pulled endlessly by unforeseen forces you’re not going to be too happy.  How much ever we deny it, all of us feel this need to be in control. This locus of control essentially makes you more or less likely to be a go getter and to strive to better yourself. If you have a belief in fate, that certain things are pre-written, then of course this takes away the same responsibility that you might previously have felt and sense of possibility along with it.

The flip side of the coin is it’s nice to think that no matter how badly you screw up today, destiny might have something great in store for you tomorrow. Destiny can serve as a security blanket to help deal with things that we don’t want to understand.

But just simply relying on tomorrow to bring better tidings without any effort will not change anything. Even destiny might not help you if you don’t help yourself. I strongly believe in free will but I have to admit that I do resort to using destiny as a safety net at times. Guilty as charged! 😀

I think the only thing that matters is whether we give it our best shot, irrespective of what fate has in store or not.

After all, going down without a fight is the worst form defeat ever! So stay strong and march on..

experience, freedom, life, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

Remember to Live

Yet another day comes to an end
Spreading colors so dark
I am finally able to comprehend,
I can see the glowing spark

A declining power spreads light
Whispers floating at a distance
Screams shatter silence of night
Marking the rise of resistance sand_hour_glass

The end of the tunnel beckons me
Staggering at the end of my limits.
Roughly brought down to my knees
I relived my entire life in minutes

Lost in material pursuit and strife
To conquer the zenith and sky
Forsaking true happiness in life
Sands of time just trickled by

How much is left to be done,
A lot piled up I have to mend,
How much have I not done,
This isn’t how I wanted it to end

Eventually the sun came out
The rainbow paints the sky
My ashes scatter all about
The death of a darkest lie

Each day could well be your last
Gift, is each moment you survive
So break free of this evil cast
And always Remember to Live

Poem #9 for National Poetry Writing Month Challenge