“Carry on, my wayward son There’ll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don’t you cry no more” (Livgren & Kansas)
In the crowd with a mouthful of stories, have you ever felt lonely? With a charade of emotions have you ever felt, nothing is True? In a momentary exchange of words, have you ever found that familiarity? In a room with machinery heat, have you felt that cold silence? In those age-old pages, have you ever had the warmest embrace? Have you felt that sanity in isolation? Aloof, away, unshackled and emancipated, Have you ever wanted to live with your head held high, and having answers to all those finger wielding questions, yet to remain silent with pride, Because you don’t owe them a single word? To live with honesty and clean satisfaction. The familiar faces can hardly get you with your clearest response… But you are understood, here and Everywhere. Have you ever followed those signs? Seen the playful irony and smiled on your own? They will say, the path is too perilous to walk, they may say, it’s too linear. But it’s your path, only you are to assess. You may hit the impasse, you will break through. The struggle is the ultimate meaning, that’s how it goes. We, who feel our disjointed belongings, are understood by our prime elements. You have to see. You are seen. You will see. That’s the meaning of it.
I don’t understand that when things go smooth, success is assured, time moves relatively fast or it seems fast because it is over?
Now time is stale, or is it? The progression of life is slow, or is it? It actually is my career which is steering slow or may be I’m on the making. Questions, perplexities are having their busiest time with me. Procrastination has always been there. I would often question myself about my choices, become dubious about the decisions I have made earlier and blame myself for it could be better but I am wavering in the fringes where I am not sure whether to stick around or take a plunge. May be I did not even understand myself or recognize what I actually want. Thus the dart is still levitating before the red spot. Am I beating around the bush or standing by the right track? I know it is meaningless to analyze one’s own position and philosophizing it rather than making any attempt to improve it. But mind takes up the hallway leading toward compartments of possibilities.
Everything is possible in imagination, semi-possible in a reverie and dream would be the weird mixture of the two.
There, sometimes I am teaching a bunch of students in a college. The college would probably be made up of those walls and facades planted somewhere in my residual memory, a miscellany of the intitutions I have come across. I am confused. The faces of the students seem pleasant. The reverie, then, would take me to an unknown ground that might have been emanated from some places I’d read about or my thoughts have culminated such a rare construction! Well so I am a trainee there, I suppose. This is ridiculous! I would rehearse those things that would ever happen. I would have bouts of conversations with those whom I wanted to meet. Some seemed as expected, some not.
I am no oneiromancer!
Yes, you may say that I am in a tug of war where career options are heavy, hence these reveries. The Covid period is working like a blackhole, near which time is getting dilated. But I am waiting. I am clueless. Wish I could reinstate the harmony, I’d move forward with it! Whatsoever, that trance gets passed I’m still in the place where I was, still struggling with plethora of complex feelings, lying in that juncture where the exit of this labyrinth might be just some steps away but I am unaware of the algorithm…