Scribbling:
Tragedy
of Wanderer:
“I feel
happy, being alone at this moment. It’s a different feeling being alone
sometimes, when you are alone and not sad, not missing something, not being
asked for or to suit a particular adjective. Like a night when it is alone
without moon and stars, left on its own. Night with moon gets weighed down by
label of romanticism, and when that moon is missing, people look at the stars,
miss the moon and sob all night for their solitude asks too much of them. I like
the night when there is no moon, no star but just it, a dark, left-alone, night,
naked in itself, just like us, with no rush to choose adjectives to suit the
mood to feel better or worse. I feel happy this moment for I do not feel to
feel in any particular way, it’s just a feeling of having no feel, ridiculous
it sounds, isn’t it? And yet it’s true, it is like when people are high, fallen
in alleyways, by riverside, in their rooms, upon their beds, in someone’s arms
or left behind like trash, and yet not caring at all, instead stay like that
simply for staying in that sense of trance, not thinking of anything, something
as if alive but relishing the death in itself, death for what else could carry
such tranquil happiness in itself, simply for the sake of it. As if being
active we lose a sense of our human mind and body as those philosophers would
say in the west, while in the east they would rather call it soul. funny isn’t
it? How even that gets tangled up in choice of words, while it could be either
of them or none at all, who knows?
I am
feeling happy in this moment, I would not mind whether I get to laugh or cry,
for it doesn’t matter, I could do both and still feel the same. But I would
rather choose to smile right now and keep the tears for later, for tears to me
are more intimate, they remind me of nights when I am vulnerable, I find solace
in its salty kisses and warm trails upon my cheeks. So long…”
Praveen Parasar, 8/1/2017
