On 9.02.09, I wrote the below poem. I try and think why I wrote this. I don’t know. I can’t remember. Just like that, I am reminded of the frailty of memories. Yesterday, I was talking to a beautiful friend of mine. We ended up discussing some of our travel escapades. We laughed when we reminisced. And just like that, I felt this aching sense of sadness at the richness of my life. “In the end, this is all we are left with, aren’t we?” I asked. “The memories?” My friend agreed.
Death waits for us all. We think we have tomorrows. But there are no tomorrows. In the end, when that ray of light called the end of life encircles us, do we really remember anything but the times we spent with the ones we love? Do we not regret the fights? Do we not embrace the time they gave us?
I know that there are many readers to this blog. It’s why I made this blog public again. I smile when I see Google Analytics. Here’s my wish.
Please make your life an eulogy for memories. Allow for the preciousness in each of the people who come into our lives to define those memories. Don’t walk away unless you are pushed. Don’t leave unless the staying doesn’t matter. And there lies the rub. The staying always matters.
Every circle we take,
Through each eye,
Muzzled and muffled are our cries,
For destiny’s dream
Lies entrenched beyond the grasp
Of all entreaties.
Yet…
Circles of time fly till
the end that meets none
can smile its way
for the beginning
of the beginning.
