When the order to move on comes, the warrior looks at all the friends he has made during the time that he followed the path. He taught some to hear the bells of a drowned temple; he told others stories around the fire.
The heart is sad, but he knows that his sword is sacred and that he must obey the orders of the One to whom he offered to his struggle.
Then the warrior thanks his traveling companions, takes a deep breath and continues on, laden with memories of an unforgettable journey.
Manual of the Warrior of light by Paulo Coelho
A feet in the abyss and another in a fairytale. That is life. I read it somewhere. Something like that. I read it in Eleven Minutes. Fairytales seem ancient so maybe we can relate more to movies. Sometimes in our lives we all become a part of a movie we never dreamed of. Days ago she was here, today she is not. Her life, a movie. Ours a movie too. An instant the character appears, the next its gone. Its strange, but its real. We are two on the road these days, we used to be three. I used to pull her to my right and say, ” Yeta tira hid na, ta po ta premika hos, hamro po ta koi na koi mare ni ke chinta!” She used to laugh. Once she did the same, pulled me to towards the wall and said” Aba ta tero pani value vadyo ni!” I had pulled her back to her spot and laughed. What a mockery of my existence.
Memories are a sweet thing. The sweetest thing infact.
It was his birthday party and their anniversary treat too. She was already there. I had come after going to the “Lesbian and Gay film festival” in the Bakery cafe. watched ” Thank God I’m a Lesbian”. So very boring. Then “The Celestial Bride” ( learnt a lot) and one embarrassing Hindi movie “The Pink Mirror” walked out halfway through.
“Photo her na” she came to my side. I asked for a Mirinda. She had already had hers. “Kha na.” I had pushed the bottle towards her.
“No” she replied. The usual pretense.
She had the Mirinda. We had it in turns. That was the last thing we shared.
When something unprecedented like death happens everyone presumes the situation to be larger than life portrayal of it. The Hindi Movie Bereave sequence. But life’s not a movie. Its just life. The dead teach you to live. The dead move along with you. So worry not when you come to talk to me. Don’t be scared of that silly smile on my face back once again. I will not lean against your shoulders and cry. I will not breathe a word about it, why to, you barely knew her. What a strange pre assumption to make….
And I don’t know what I am talking about here. I was supposed to write something else, something totally different, something about rafting…Bhotekosi but this took over. ..Its strange… I am in denial, sometimes the pangs of acceptance makes my eyes all watery…and sometimes I go through the marriage pics again and again and yet nothing happens. In one she is rolling her eyes, in a fieldtrip pic someone is pulling her hair, in another talking on the phone..so many of them but I just watch them, nothing happens. I have a feeling she will be there in class tomorrow with the laptop and I will show her the pictures.
Acceptance of the denial. Helps you. Helps you understand why the world doesn’t come to a standstill when the good are gone, helps you understand why we have to move on, why should we? Why the hell does the sun still shine, the nights, the days, the classes…why does it all go on? It should have ended the instant she let go of life, it should have all ceased when the insane shot her. It should have all come to a standstill but nothing did…nothing is the way we want it to be….
I am straying from an already strayed writing. And I don’t care. I was telling her of Royal Stag. I wanted to write a satirical piece titled ” Royal Stag and Mahanta”…. “Baki pachi vanchu” I had said. “Huncha” she had replied. And it was a Bye- Monday college ma vetaula. ” Kind of bye. The Monday came and it went. I was out town. She was out of this world, out of reach.
I miss you yaar. That “Bheda ko oon jasto” almost made me weep like a child. But I blinked back tears. You know like in your wedding. That Gosaikunda trip. You had said you had full confidence in me, that I could trek all alone. Felt like betrayal then, that’s why I walked to Chisapani in anger. But perhaps you were right. Now I have the confidence. I can trek, walk, eat, run, jump do anything all alone. And it doesn’t feel like I am all alone either…its just the way it was supposed to be…You inspire me to LIVE. “Don’t just live, make it large” just like the Royal Stag hoarding board I pass by everyday says. You inspire all of us to live.
Life’s too short to do anything else.
Still I wonder where you are..maybe you are a cloud hai, or a little baby just born( the thought feels good) but wherever you are I would just like to say you inspire me to do all that we ever dreamt of ….you inspire me to live my friend..love you.
यिन् दिनों दिल् ल मेरा मुझसे हे केहेराहा
तु ख्वाब सजा, तु जिले जरा
हे तुझे भि इजाजत कर्ले तु भि मोहोब्बत
बेरङ् सि हे बडी जिन्दगी, कुच् रङ् तो भरूँ
मै अप्नी तन्हायी के बासते अब कुच् तो करुँ
जब मिले थोडी फुर्सद खुदसे कर्ले मोहोब्बत
हे तुझे भि इजाजत कर्ले तु भि मोहोब्बत……
OST- Life in a Metro