Where did those companions disappear? ~ Lost in time
I had these two great companions. In fact, I have known them since long, even before I started going to school. They helped me see the world, feel it, understand it, interpret it, analyze it and act accordingly. They were there when I was happy. They were there when I was sad. They were there when I was zestless. They were there when I had too many moods merging into one that many a time, led me to do nothing else but sit, think and stare at them blankly. They have been with me for the longest time span, irrespective of the changes around. As I grew up, I made many friends, with some of whom, I am still in touch; with some of whom I broke up; with a few, I mended fences and then with a few, moved away unconsciously. However, in all those times, these companions were there, silently watching me, and giving me subtle hints to help me out, but only to be spurned with indifference to their calls to offer help. And with time, the indifference was reciprocated. The distance between us grew so much that I don’t hear from them no more. The void in heart was building up, thought the feeling of desertion was very gradual. And, one fine day they just disappeared! When? How? Why? These questions rattled more often now. Perhaps, I had surmised that they would be there for me always. Or perhaps, I had taken them for granted and so much that I never acknowledged their presence even if it were required. Perhaps, I never put conscious efforts to make their importance known to the world. And perhaps, I drifted away to new friends. Perhaps....aah I still want to self console with some excuse! Damn human nature! Sometimes, when one unconsciously drifts away, the relationship does not sour, it starts to thin. In due course of time, it does not rot, but becomes unfamiliar. And then, one is left wondering, whatever happened…..?
.....Half a decade has passed by. Not that we haven’t met since then. We now meet more often on a professional basis. The personal touch had been lost. When was the last time I sat and talked with them for hours, pouring out my mind and heart to them? Don’t remember……. When…..
I don’t remember precisely the time and day when I had bonded with pen and paper. I also don’t remember when I had started writing diaries…..Yes, that one inclination shone out in my cabinet of undesirable habits that annoyed my parents to no bounds. For me, getting up late and listening to JLO’s I am real, rather than to Kausalya Suprabatham (much to the chagrin of my mother) was a more preferred way of greeting dawn. Watching late night movies, sleeping in the wee hours of morning, reading Tinkles, Champaks, Reader’s digests and India Today just when exams would be round the corner and then day dreaming endlessly when there would be ample time to catch up with my studies were just some to list here. And in all of this endless nonsense, there was some sense that came out from the companionship I had with pen and paper. Yes, writing somehow helped me complement the brimming annoyance caused by my way of life. Back in my school days and tween years, this one habit had helped my parents curb their irrepressible dissatisfaction at my lousy lifestyle, despite the fact that I was academically above average. And what was our friendship all about? I used to write when I wanted, what I wanted, what and how I felt and what I would like to do in my life. Mostly, my diaries reflected my moods, my reaction to people around and my interpretations of what kept happening around all the time. The companionship seemed eternal then. Little did I know, changes even though minor affect us in a big way…..
And then one fine day I realized, I had suddenly stopped writing. I don’t know when. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. It just happened. Although the writing had stopped, but the realization that it had stopped dawned late. Very late, rather. I still cannot figure out answers. The feeling of having lost these selfless companions, is still sinking in. Or perhaps, mind is playing games and it is not letting the heart accept the fact instantly. Or perhaps, blame it on Internet. Yes, at least there is something to blame upon. Damn human nature again! As I start recollecting the incidents that led to this unceasing distance between us, some bits and pieces are returning back. In college years, I never really had enough time to pen down as frequently as I would, yet managing to write a few notes everyday, which too disappeared gradually without a bang. And then, after college the touch had just vanished without a trace. When I had started working, I felt that even 24 hours a day was too less. And the distance went on increasing due to many other factors. Like, I preferred more outings, more parties and more fun outside to writing diaries. And then, when the paper and pen had moved away from me, or rather the other way round, there is no definite answer. Now, it feels as though they are strangers…..
It is a pain when your friends turn into foes. However, it is greater pain when they turn into strangers not acknowledging your presence as before. And now, self is trying hard…..the letters are not as beautiful as before, the slant of the characters is too sloppy, their shapes no more attractive and with fingers full of undying indolence! Now self tries hard to mend the friendship. It needs them now. It knows, it cannot depend on machines eternally. It now has realized that the feel of pen and paper cannot be beaten by the keys on a keyboard. The realization has struck and now self waits patiently for the companions to realize that there is a chance to this beautiful relationship again…..
Labels: Writing is good for soul