Silent nights.

It's a mixed feeling. It was raining for days at end, to the point that I grew sick of it. All my washed clothes fell down and got drenched all over again. Initially, it seemed to be a refreshing change as the sky darkened and cool gust of wind started bringing the smell of earth to every seeking nose. But then the accompanying channels of water all over the place spoiled everything for me. To add to my misery, I found a cute pomerian hovering around a market, looking for a shelter from the pelting drops. Looked like it was abandoned by some rich family and some other canine had annexed its coveted kennel. It was a sorry sight and as I pencil in my thoughts tonight, my mind is consistently being drawn back to that poor dog. How desolate and lonely it would be now!

There is a little kitten that loves to stay in our dormitories. Her was a classic case of separation from her siblings and her mom. Her other frolicsome and perhaps more naughtier sister was run down by our relentless bus. But the fortunate kitten that our little one is, she was saved by our guards. She is as intrepid a cat as you would ever bump into. She has taken a liking to humans. She lifts her paw and chases your fingers deeming them to be some insect or her eternal foe, a mouse. If you are daring enough to get near to it while she is a bit sleepy, you can make out how much she loves being caressed or how she curls into a ball in your lap shedding all her fickleness for an hour of beautiful and rare peaceful sleep. I am a little worried about her. How would she survive the dreary winters and aberrant spells of rain? On second thought, every solitary kitten in the jungles or our gardens fight all odds and grow up and so our kitty would too! I hope she will.

For me years have worked the other way around. When I was a kid, the very sight of a dog appalled me. I steered safely past them and could never quite pat,caress or fool around with them. To me , they were a mad lot chasing rag pickers and suspicious men who never liked people drawing close to their meals. Cats were more deceptive and seemed more shy. They walked gingerly and were always on the prowl for milk or anything they could lay their whiskers on. As I have grown up, this sense of unfamiliarity has been replaced by a feeling of curiosity. I want to know them. Although I am yet to lift a dog/cat on my lap, there is a surge of love and satisfaction which holds me whenever I find a dog/cat engrossed in its own world chasing imaginary preys or enjoying forty winks on the beds of my friends. To them everything seems new and filled with possibility. They don't get bored walking the same lanes or sniffing the same soily corners. To them a park never grows old or a house never seems bereft of enjoyment. They would always find something to indulge in.

In a way, life too is a quest for that elusive thing that would keep us engaged all through. That one thing which we must seek all our lives without getting tired or bored. That little thing, procuring which, our faces would give the widest smiles of contentment. Take your pick. Live for it. Forever. Until you find it. And then rest in a benign way like the kitty on your lap.

The past is well past us!

A dry spell again! A rough patch or a sudden aversion is all it takes to stay put in the cocoon where I find solace and silence. I am not a cynical man. For that matter, I have loved life with a vigor which surprises me. But I am just sick of routine. I am not tired of the darkness that seems to envelop the world. I very well know that I am also a part of the gloomy picture. For some, I am the most sinister of minds that they have ever come across. I want to extend my apologies to such souls. If I had a device to turn that angst you feel when you bump into me into something lighter , I would have done that straightaway. Alas! I can't.

There is no need of remaining crossed with the state of things, forever. Every other day some ugly situation would arise in an unprecedented fashion to give you a bite of reality. Sometimes your worst dreams would come true. Friends on whom you were relying all your life would pull the rug out from under your feet and leave you deserted. Life treats you shabbily at times. It is a blunt truth. The sooner you realize that, the better.

What then remains to be done? Unwarranted outcomes, deliquescent relations would always remain there no matter how earnestly you want them to wane. It is very natural to get disillusioned in the face of such adversities. It is perfectly normal to shed some tears and shut all windows. But for how long? Invariably I have felt that eventually your heart settles down, starts gaining the poise and it conforms to the bad realities of life. Then it sends you a silent omen that signals that it is high time you started looking for newer options and broke the shackles of the past. And that is when you should cease the moment, kick the past in the butt, make friends with immutable truths and set out on achieving something more realistic. This time don't stake everything you have on one dream or even worse on one person.

The past is never past us. I may serve a thousand diktats here and still you would cling to it. You won't forgive people who ploughed through your heart. It is impossible for most of us to accept that our trust has been met with outright treason. But is past that precious as to barter all your happiness for it?

No body can improve the things for you. If you are in a pickle , you have got to pull yourself out of it. The past is like that creepy herb that would impede your progress by entangling you in it. How long you want to be in its captivity is entirely upto you. Every one has an innate machinery to deal with the ghosts of the past and come out shining. It might seem flimsy but losing your ground to old mishaps ain't the way.



Being unhappy forever simply doesn't sound right.