These days, imagination seems more real than the real life..I feel perplexed many times waking up and feeling misplaced, adjusted in the different room and different perspectives. Its been adjustment, after the year 72 that shook me so hard, I am adjusting my emotional aloofness from the supposedly closed ones to sediment and let me decant off translucent. I am trying.
I also feel mispalced, finding myself in the class full of young students in a class, (trying) teaching, I had hold the vision of myself being that confident, profoundly knowledge enriched teacher (female) in my high school days, I wonder if I have become one, (less the profoundly enriched). But In the fifty some loaded classroom, I seek in the juvenile faces, myself , my mates, my age and my time, it pinches me somewhere and I feel euphoric in nostalgia, I get overwhelmed to see how far I have come, what have left behind, who are left behind. it aches and bleeds, to bid byes to the naiveness of juveniles.
But in beneath the adult apparel, I find in me the same myself. I love the ride, lot have changed, less have made difference, many things have been just continuation and surplus, and somethings will never be same again. But I feel I am always the same, from when I was a gauche teenagers, to whatever I am today.
Meanwhile, I think I am in transitory state. I dont know the transition yet, But I feel I am holding a feet in air to step into wherever, may be there will be a destined path, may be I will paved a path, May be I will fly by. May be.
In the regular life, I have come to take things lightly (trying), and amidst everything that keeps happening, I only wish things become regular, normal. I wish normal days, even though normal is these exhausting series of boring days, occupying into minutes, among people in formal decorum, the professional becomes survival when personal are too painful to think of. Same talks, same nagging, same complains and same lingering, that is job, but thats ok, let it be normal. I don’t have energy/excitment left for expectation to surprise me. I wonder, and to my surprise, I don’t want (can’t handle ) any celebration, It mocks me. I hide past everything that makes me visible in their pictures, and priorities. I thought it was painful to be alone in eateries, and now I sigh releif to find empty table, I sneak in odd hours for lunch just to avoid people. May be this is a kind of transition as well.
More you are edged, you tend to understand your real self..less hesitant to do what you wanted to do. Its thrilling to come out real and exposed, Its better, to be able to be so, its hard and difficult and judgemental and everything but again in amidst the insecurities,
if your heart still holds desires, you are brave.
if you are true in heart, you are brave
if you feel right, you are right.
I am unambigiously right.
(I am trying to beleive what I have written.)
And from all this comes the liberation of being yourself. Contrast and Complements are only the adjectives, let me be noun. Realizing it is defiantely hard, but all I am doing is trying. “Acceptance” I need to try harder.
The bunch of realization (and this past year have been a year full of realization) becomes cumulation to conclusions about things we believe. But to summarize things in simplicity is hard, often so much that I fail to persist on it. But again I am trying.
Somebody have said it so true, the most difficult part is to make things simple. To make things simple, one needs to understand the dynamics of every difficulties it holds. Life then, how much dimensions of difficulties to understand to simplify it. Let me try.