No body said life was fair. Nothing of the seconds and minutes, even months and years promise an easy ride.
But some does have it all happening. The bounty that life presents, the opportunity savored to the last drop. Every step they take, their path leads to glory and recognition. They lie their way through life, portraying curves of elegance, appear to control life by its tiny strands of fate and destiny and rewrite history to rival the greatest stories ever told.
Then there are some strangers, the offspring(s) of a political generation, and the lost kids of the war age. They are the enigmatic geniuses, the passionate blind lovers and good friends. They are not so lucky; they don’t have the path cleared for them and extravagant(s) of rice and curry waiting every evening. They don’t face surprises ever often; they live a monotonous existence waiting for that thin silver line on a rainy season.
How these two extremes meet head to head in life could be the greatest mysteries of life.
How they gather and live together, how heart breaks and euphoria mingle and love each other, blind to one another’s pain.
Believe and trusts are the true passions of life. If you hold on to it, till the very last breath your soul will be dignified, your hunger justified to the very crevices of eternity. Every cell in you will be flooded with energy, bursting with love for you have something to live for, and the principles etched deep into you to stand for it. What the rebellions of these two extreme lives don’t tell is how the lost kids never achieve another pivotal point in life, happiness.
What in my opinion the most important step we take in life is when we create that strong bond of friendship, finding soul mates and day light warriors to face the days of certainty and uncertainty. I wanted life to be such, to be filled with thrills of friendship, the kind seen on TV, the kind that everyone lives of sometimes. Why couldn't it happen everyday? We have expectations in life to go forward and do our best, and some are better equipped. Some are in a better position to pull us up, call it their duty, but in reality it’s just another divine contract between two souls to pull each other up while climbing that tall ladder. Every achievement after that are the surprises of life, the vagaries that time prepares for us.
Do tell me, am I dreaming a perfect life? Can’t we expect out friends to hold on, wait for us to catch up? Or even if they have to go ahead, to lend us a helping hand just at the right time because they are wiser in life? Cant we expect that small advice when they see a chance waiting or an opportunity, be it for only one person, because they can gauge who can do it better and then accommodate the other in due time? What do we must really expect then?
The faraway rain clouds seems never to come near. Through the blinder, the rain falls incessantly from a clear sky, but all those are illusions. The mind wants to forget the dark, for what it presumes evil. The heart wants to love the cold breeze. Through the misty jungles as far as the eyes can see, the rain creeps and sways in the turbulent wind, and the windows are covered with mist, with tiny eccentric raindrops carving straight but micro chaotic paths down to the open atria with miniature palm plants and Zen garden stones.
Lightning and thunder, paint grander Van Gogh’s on the northern skies, as the last of the blue birds flies to its now soaked nest covered only by a few strands of leaves. Just like life, nothing grand, always presenting the bare necessities to be used just at the right time. The centuries of rain poured non stop as the paddy fields unfurled on the eastern flat lands. The western hills are covered with staggered boxes of houses looking more and more like limestone hills cut to build some magnificent temple for God's who haven't given their verdict for millions of years. The village stood still in the slates of time and rain.
The rebellion started in the mind of one boy, he grew up in the fields, and he saw the sacrifices of the people to live another day. He saw many excel in learning scriptures and leave the village but he was there picking and choosing through life for the best of everything. He picked the best paddy seeds, planted them then from the rice he sorted the golden ones as provisions for the future. On the southern plains lay thousands of more hills with villages and around them paddy fields and in those communities are boys and girls rebelling against the deceits of time.
Waiting for opportunities to come won’t take us to the next level of life. People are nice to us, but they are not honest. No friend will give up his dearest possessions for another friend in need because the needs and passions of life are more powerful than any camaraderie. The bonds, locked hands and fiery fists in the face of destiny are all masks to fool the sages of fate.
We are responsible to take the next step because it’s our legs that we command. There might be helping hands; great minds of teachers who guide us, but at one point of time you must realize, look around you and you are alone. That's the rebellion of time and age against us. And at that time, the dearest people who you have hoped for this long will feel not obliged to look back at you, or lend a helping hand because a wiser mind will arise that may dawn him or her. That wiser mind is you. You are destined to take over the future, steal the thunder for others because every man is truly an island first, bridges are artificial. The mysteries of life will unravel slowly in time.
But in between this chaotic life, the percolation of words and actions, there are a few good ones. Those who don’t feel threatened by time and the dawn of the new age. I am still waiting for them, for one of them. Have you found yours?