Remember, I told you once that I usually write between 2 to 4 at night? Well, my clock shows 4:16 AM at present- though its bit late but anyway its time to get onto work. Work! – I shouldn’t consider it as work- neither do I write professionally nor do any compulsion is there to write. It just comes from within, making its way from the deep bottom of my heart.
But like any of the fundamental or complex phenomena happenings in nature, it too requires an impulse. An impulse that would give it the initiation energy to overcome its inertia. An impulse that would give a boost beyond its threshold energy, for not just making its way out but to have an impact on someone else’s heart, to carve its own niche on the allotted space of someone else’s thought. And so if we keep tracking this analogy, it would be a subject to me as the fuel to process.
You must have experienced ‘Petrichor’- the sweet pleasant smell that rises up from ground when it rains after so long. The fragrance rising and prevailing as the rain quench the thrust of land. Seems like I’m kept exempted from experiencing it in the analogical terms of my thougths.
Think of the situation when you’re made to remember someone very close to your heart by the sudden happenings around you- any object, your friends slipping off their tongues unknowingly uttering the pertinent word or a ‘Dejavu’ making you to feel that person beside, imitating any particular moment which is now lost in the labyrinth of your memory- it could be anything.
But there are two minor flaws in this imposed imagination- first, if the proximity was that of being almost inseparable then there couldn’t be any sudden impact that charge up your grey cells to recall the memory while the second one is you yourself because you felt that even after being preoccupied by the same subject. Its like imposing a sine wave with other one of a bit greater amplitude- though the result shifts but still the nature remains same.
So, while you reckon the intensity of this hypothesis being equivalently probable let me get back to the point where I changed the track- why couldn’t that region of influence of diffusion intersect with my region of approach, why that fragrance couldn’t pierce that virtual thin layer. The reason is not to have the rain at all (We’re not in desert) but to be preoccupied with dew so that the rain wouldn’t have the effect at all. What if the thing that you crave for is always there to mark its presence – ‘Serendipity’.
I had some drafts made, hundred of lines pre-written which were carved in an effort of capturing the moments, some random rants scattered by my notebook which I could have included here, but then an afflatus flicks my mind to build this from scratch – thinking, not this time because there is lot more to come-‘for you a thousand times over!’ Its not the alexithymia of brain but the essence of soul that pulls me through these words. Its the vicariousness of your act that makes way for this noddy. So, while you dive yourself into the pool of contemplation over the contents, I resume my search for substantiality in the vicinity of void.
Happy Deepawali 🙂