Wednesday, 24 April 2013

What if?

Wait, stop, consider.
Question, wonder.

How could life lead you so gracefully to perfection? I have never known things to 'just' work themselves out.

There has to be a catch right? There has to be story, a trilogy, an epilogue?

Or does there?

What about the real possibility of near completion. A chance of almost fitting all the pieces, of finally seeing my masterpiece, crafted and painted in every single hue - out for the world to watch.

I have always believed in grey, in confusion, in what could-have-been, what should-have-been.

But this is here and now. This deserves action. This deserves to be acknowledged, experienced, fully comprehended and accepted. This deserves more than a mere cynicism.

Because if this isn't it, then what is?

10 comments:

  1. Black and white is awesome. Grey sucks.

    Cheers :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Do you remember the book Precious Present by Spencer Johnson. Your blog reminds me of the last few paragraphs of the book. Here they are:

    "When I feel guilty over my imperfect past, or I am anxious over my unknown future, I do not live in the present. I experience pain. And I am unhappy.

    "The present is simply who I am, just the way I am, right now. And it is precious. I am precious. I am the Precious Present."

    It was as though he could hear the old man talking. And then he smiled. And his smile widened. And he laughed. He felt great joy. He knew he was listening, not to the old man. . . But to himself.

    It felt good for him to be with himself--just the way he was. He felt he knew enough. He felt he had enough. He felt he was enough. Now.

    He had finally found the Precious Present. And he was completely happy.

    Several decades later, the man had grown into a happy, prosperous, and healthy old man. One day a little girl came by to talk to him. She liked to listen to "the old man," as she called him. It was fun to be with him. There was something special about him. But she didn't know what it was.

    One day, the little girl began to really listen to the old man. Somehow she sensed something important in his calm voice. He seemed very happy. The little girl couldn't understand why. "How could someone so old," she wondered, "be so happy?" She asked and the old man told her why.

    Then all of a sudden, the little girl jumped up and squealed with delight! As the girl ran off to play, the old man smiled. For he heard what she had said: "Wow!" she exclaimed. "I hope someday someone gives me the Precious Present!"

    Anonymous-no-longer

    ReplyDelete
  3. I am assuming you are only fascinated by them because of the following lines: ;-)

    One day, the little girl began to really listen to the old man. Somehow she sensed something important in his calm voice. He seemed very happy. The little girl couldn't understand why. "How could someone so old," she wondered, "be so happy?" She asked and the old man told her why.

    Then all of a sudden, the little girl jumped up and squealed with delight! As the girl ran off to play, the old man smiled. For he heard what she had said: "Wow!" she exclaimed. "I hope someday someone gives me the Precious Present!"

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hmmm... Let me re-post, with some adaptation in UPPER CASE, to illustrate exactly WHY your blog reminded me of this passage

    "When I feel guilty over my imperfect past, or I am anxious over my unknown future, I do not live in the present. I experience pain. And I am unhappy.

    "The present is simply who I am, just the way I am, right now. And it is precious. I am precious. I am the Precious Present."

    It was as though SHE could hear the old man talking. And then SHE smiled. And HER smile widened. And SHE laughed. SHE felt great joy. SHE knew SHE was listening, not to the old man. . . But to HERSELF.

    It felt good for HER to be with HERSELF --just the way SHE was. SHE felt SHE knew enough. SHE felt SHE had enough. SHE felt SHE was enough. Now.

    SHE had finally found the Precious Present. And SHE was completely happy.

    Anonymous-no-Longer

    ReplyDelete
  5. Now, in reinforcing your opinion of me as being "so predictable", let me confess: YOU WERE RIGHT. The section of the passage that you pointed out DID make me smile.

    Anonymous-no-longer
    (aka The Old Man)

    ReplyDelete
  6. Must be that genetic strain that runs in these certain Delhi-dwelling Brars with a preponderance of X-chromosomes :-)

    ANL

    ReplyDelete
  7. Yup...

    (My reaction is a mix of reminiscing, smiling, and rolling on the floor laughing)

    ANL

    ReplyDelete