Getting hold of my pen for ‘mustering up’ a blog post (yeah, it doesn’t feel like simple ‘writing up’ now), there is an odd sense of discomfort welling up inside me. A lot has changed since the last time. I mean, really. It seems like ages, which is, to say, the case. For I believe, the poor clock is the worst keeper of time. It can just be a second and yet be ages for us and the latter is what really matters; what is for us is what is, call it a narcissistic view of life or whatever else pleases you. Caught in an absurd mishmash of integrals and pulleys and the simple pendulum (which isn’t all that simple, I tell you), I never thought I would be writing this anytime soon, which also means I don’t have much to say. But since I am writing, bear with me for as long as it takes to read this.
Picking up an old tune playing in my head today led me to wonder how much we could really lose to time. And pat came the reply (yes, from my head!): nothing. Duh! The clichéd saying about how we enter this world empty handed and return the same way has been hardwired into it that bad. But what I make of it is this: in this world we have nothing to lose and nothing to gain, but a hell lot to trade. And not even trade, in the proper sense of the word. The ‘trade’ could be just gifting away or being gifted something dear, a barter of love, or perhaps a simple trade of small talk. And this trade is one where each day you come home with a heavier chest, though not richer, for sure. You may trade away all that you want but your heart will do what it does best: hold on to a fragment of each and pack these memories into the chest (no puns intended!) of memories. But perhaps, that is the weight which anchors the heart to the body. And so, let it be.
The whole of this life, to me, is one hell of a music. And the notes playing are not all new; perhaps just altered ever so slightly for the sake of disguising it. That is what, then, brings me to write all this…
heartbeatsresonant 