December 11, 2009


Sometimes you don't really know the reason behind certain actions of yours. And that is when certain movies, certain other people and their actions make you realize how similarly confused we all are.

Today, like many days in recent times, made me think and probe within a lot more. I was feeling highly volatile the whole day- mood swinging like mad monkeys from tree tops. Certain things, certain people, certain thoughts trigger such an avalanche of emotions within you that one moment seems way too atomic to comprehend the entire thing. And so I need time, to sort out those million emotions that were born in a moment, like mustard seeds popping out of a badly opened packet.

Time is something I have no idea how to manage. My expectations from myself, from this all-new tag-attached life here has only made me involve myself in way too many things. Being the Lady Oliver Twist that I am, I keep asking more out of life, out of time, out of myself.

I need my rudder, my anchor, my steer that could probably signal meaning to me. Life seems like a long stretch of days- with some wonderful education, heaps of growing up and maturing and unlearning. But there are also days tucked in between- ones that make me feel anything between crabby arthritic senile old lady, nagging woman-of-the-house, bossy disgusting know-it-all to lonely whimpering immature blubbering idiot.

With all the spirit I can gather within, pushing away all the deep longings of one look at home, one hug from family, one walk with my sister and one tryst with Chennai, I surge on, with deep faith in all the decisions I have made. They have only been reinforced by this place. I'm only more and more sure- with each passing day- that the moving images I decided to flirt with, were the most compatible life partner I could have chosen for myself.

But doubts raise, with fleeting footsteps- about how warped this place can get sometimes, how insanely competitive and evil people can get and how disgusting life can turn out to be, if only you give in to its wily luring cries.

Directionless, but with instinct to prompt impulses, I carry on.
© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall