In Loving Memory of the Bottle.......

I wonder if I have changed.

For a good three months now I have been away from the life I had for the past six years. It wasn’t a totally conscious choice to give up that life, but somewhere I did choose to move. Perhaps in moving I changed too?

It’s a frequent question these days with me. About change. Days I sit and think. But of course I cannot answer the question. Another year has gone by. Another year added to my life. And I think of changes. I ask friends but of course they give diplomatic answers. Ironic is the fact that it is because of them that I wonder thus, for them that I ask the question….

I see these people around me who were just like what I was until now. Life was shared with them. Through them I lived and experienced this world, this life…myself too. But somehow, somewhere it has all changed. I don’t know these people anymore. They are like these passive strange beings caught up in some very every strange inertia. When i see them i imagine a more-or-less lifeless figure doing a slow spiraling dance suspended in mid air.

They say that with time priorities in life change, so people change and the way they perceive things also changes. Perhaps it is so. But I stand and wonder what is it that has brought so much of a gap between these people and me? Is it that they have stopped living or that I have started living truly now. Or they have stopped and are unwilling to move on and I have moved on and away too soon too fast.

When I ask, they tell me that things have changed drastically for them also. I disagree not to this for change is but a truth in life. But then they say that they do not have it in them to move on with their lives, to restructure. They say they need more time…time?

Time?

Time has become nothing but an excuse behind which they hide…and for years they hide…and time goes slipping away.

Time after all has its own pace.

They blame me for changing, for not being sensitive and understanding enough. Maybe it is true. But I wonder now, even as I sit and put this all together into words, that how is it that I was with them? Did I dance this slow wretched dance? How could I live in such passivity? Leave aside how, why was I living thus?

I have seen a lot of random deaths in my life so far…not that death is ever definite. Nevertheless…random in the sense of…..well….being unjustified at that point of time. And I only wonder that if life and all these things, this whole world is so fragile then why is it that we run? Why is it that we run and run…and transform our lives into this stupid idiotic race? And for what? In this denial of death, we fail to live. I wonder if we accept death, maybe we would be better at living. Maybe existence would become a life?

As I grow another year older, and this I realized after a long conversation with a friend, dreams and illusions are changing. Years ago what had been a realizable possibility for me, became an illusion and now as the years pass on, even these illusions are dropping off somewhere along the way, one after the other…..now ever dreams are peppered with a good heavy dose of reality and practicality. Perhaps this comes with age….

And what I find even stranger to understand is that it those very people who encouraged these dreams and illusion within you who bring them crashing down in the name of practicality and sensibility. Of course they do it for our own good…after all it wouldn’t do to live a life of a useless dreamer now would it? So much for a life of passions and of dreams….

But these are random disjointed thoughts really…they say that most coherent and clear are the thoughts of those who are drunk….perhaps that is all that remains…..

Maybe a shot of vodka is all that one needs….but the bottle lies empty by my table…