Change

Six years in which so much has changed and yet nothing.

Some prayers remain prayers resisting fulfillment

Hope shriveled but remnants linger

And the one lesson which life keeps repeating - People WILL and DO disappoint, every time, without exception.

So what is wrong with them, or is it me?

Sometimes a stitch doesn’t save nine, dreams don’t come true, hope stays futile and life doesn’t have a happy ending. And you live with it.

Its funny how you are surrounded with people, people who you laugh with, crib with, spend time with, share a large part of life with, people you believe genuinely like you until you need them. That’s when you realize the myth everything was based on, like a termite-ridden wall, which only appears solid, but cant, withstand the slightest breeze. You realize other promises supersede the ones they made to you; links and relations with other people outweigh the one they share with you; and in the end you come right at the end of their priority list.

 That’s when it strikes home – you are the only person who is not foremost for anyone, well no one who is alive or healthy enough to help and THAT hurts. That hurts a lot but worse still it leaves you feeling numb, devoid of any desire to interact or associate with anyone. If you cant be there in times of need, what is the point?

The past doesn’t die, and even if it does it has a perverse ability to resurrect itself just when you are down. The past doesn’t die, it dictates your present and influences how you react to a situation or  more importantly deal with people. Possessiveness stems from how much you care but it also comes from a sense of insecurity born of loss suffered in childhood, loss after seemingly unshakeable conviction of something being only yours, something you believed unquestionably like the sun rising from the east daily. The past doesn’t stay dead, it just mutates into and to your present and future so where, if ever, does it all stop?

Inferences are dangerous, inferring what was never implied is worse.  Hints are lethal, for we often guess what was never meant. Despite temptation, despite the verging-on-outright-desperate yearning to believe some words are aimed at me, I shall not, repeat not  indulge in inferences or guesses anymore. I have learnt my lesson or so I hope. From now, only what is said clearly shall be heard. If you don’t say something to me, to my face, it doesn’t exist….even if I want it to.

I saw a dying bird while driving today which made me think. The poor things had apparently hit a car windshield and was lying on the road. I was clueless as to what to do, leave it to suffer or kill it and if the later how?

Also made me question how in the bigger picture when a live thing is suffering with no hope of alleviation doesn't it deserve a peaceful painless exit be it human or animal ?

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I am a demanding friend, I vacillate between angelic and fiendish with the later dominating most times and I am the first person to admit it. My mood swings and tantrums can and do tax the patience of a saint, like I said I am demanding but I will never, ever ask for more then I give. I shall not abandon you in your hour of need, I may not be there to share your joy but I shall always be there in your moment of grief. I may fight you but I shall fight harder for you whenever the need arises. And I shall never abandon you when the world seems bleak, when you feel like the only person in the world. I shall never do that and yet I am the one who is immature, the one taxing your patience and more. You do all this and yet you are the saint. 

When things come to the point where ‘you’ and ‘ I’ replaces ‘We’, its not the beginning of the end, it is the end and that hurts but this too shall pass, leaving an indelible scar but pass it shall. To yet another ending, to solitude and system reboots, to my life again.

I hate endings. Give me an acceptable beginning and a happy middle and keep the ending to yourself I say. Endings are nostalgia  evocative. When they pertain to people leaving a certain office the effusive speeches and the deliberate emotion shake up make it worse. The former also make me question how much of the tribute paid to the departee is actually true and how much just the speaker following the set norm whatever that maybe. I hate endings also because they intensify the grey the blurred lines and more. Endings stinks!