Shreds and Smithereens

on Sunday, March 6, 2011

Woh afsaana jise anjaam tak laana na ho mumkin, usse ek khoobsurat mod dekar chhodna hi achchha ..

I read this in the paper a few days back. It was quoted by the Chief Metropolitan Magistrate Vinod Yadav, when he closed a major chapter in the Bofors scam saga by discharging Italian businessmen, Ottavio Quattrocchi. I read it again today, as the facebook status of one of my friends. In a eerie coincidence, it now perfectly applies to me. 

In the last two days, I have undergone a major transformation. My selfless attributes were my greatest pride. Now, a very selfish face stares at me each time I look into the mirror. Not more than a week ago, my very close friend from college was giving my a didactic lecture about how selfishness, in the contemporary context, had altered from being a vice to a virtue. I had hated her then and there for saying such a foolish thing. Today, I feel like a buffoon, for having been enraged at her. I have embraced those very selfish ideals. I gave up on a very, very essential part of my existence. I abandoned love, and along with it, I abandoned faith. 

My life, my smile, my tears, my love--all of this had stemmed from a person. The bond I shared with him was beautiful. Not perfect, but beautiful. But every beautiful thing does not have to be eternal. In fact, most beautiful things, especially if we add a dimension of perfection to them, are more ephemeral than something unpleasant. So today, the bond stands broken. Broken, not shattered. 

The bond has not shattered, but I have. It is today that I understand what a poet tried to convey when he spoke of silent shattering in some poem of my school English text books. I can totally feel it, understand it. I can today understand what it means to have your emotions burnt to smithereens. Understanding-it is not a gift I have received from many. Like many other good things in life, I have stopped hoping for it. The height of irony in terms of what just transpired as perhaps the most epochal happening of my life is that what went against me was my sanity. Heart in shreds. Feelings down to ashes. 

One good thing, however, remains. He remains. He lives. He breathes. As long as that happens, the miracle of my life stays alive. Faithless existence is senseless existence. The most crucial battle in my life is waiting to be won. Sans faith, it seems illogical to even start treading the path. I hope this time I receive cooperation. I hope to death that I don't fail this time. I know from where I'll draw strength. He knows from where I will draw strength. 

And while I try hard to keep my faith breathing, I will have my off days. There will be days I will look to hold someone culpable. There will be days I would not want to exonerate anyone for the wrong that happened with me, assuming these are days I am bent upon proving that wrong did happen to me. There will be days I would want to shout and cry loud and call out for comfort. There will be days I will crouch in one corner of my room, shedding tears, waiting for the coveted perfection to return to my life. I will try to be brave, but I cannot be brave enough to rule out the possibility of any of the above happening.

My best expressions are written. When I feel a need to reconnect, I will do it via writing. I always wanted to write something special for him. I wanted to document for him, more than my love, my fears associated with our bond. I began doing it yesterday. To Have, To Hold, To Love is a new blog I started to exclusively stay connected to him. It shall be my new address, whenever I am in distress.