Something of Myself

It's been quite a while since I scratched on the wall. So methinks this be a good time to do so!

Just got back from Mumbai - it's changed so much since the last time I visited. Back then, I despised it, for it was too big for me to find my place. This time, it was more welcoming. Almost a parallel. The motorways and the narrow streets (of course, it reminded me of high streets)...you can almost feel the complete abundance of wealth, and the incompleteness at the same time. It comes at you, and you really have to dig yourself in a newspaper or an excel sheet to miss the same. Mumbai was alive and dead, almost at the same time.

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It was that time of the year again when I went down to the temple and performed the duties of being the Hindu son. Remembering him for it was official time to do so! It did not sting this time. Perhaps because I am used to the pain by now...I have to deal with a certain absence for all the while that I am moving and breathing. So what do you do with it? You learn to live with it. And together with that all the rest of the people whom you knew, loved, liked, lost and let go...Their absence remains, constantly poking me at the odd corners of my being and reminding me of my weaknesses and failures. Although, it's seriously not that depressing, cause I have often found myself smiling silently, at myself, remembering that slight odd thing that made me burst into laughter back then...

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I have often played with the idea of bringing down this wall that I write on...pushing myself to make new beginnings and not look back. Blame it on my genes - I carry the burden of my past. Of a collective past. They know I do, and yet when faced with my memories, when faced with my sudden presence, a flash of me that passes by them, they frown, flinch and turn away. Not surprising then, that I, in my darkest alleys have now learnt to cope, to manage...Like Mumbai, alive and dead, almost at the same time.