Does this happen to you ever that you are overwrought with this urgent need to write? That all you want to do is to put those words on paper and see them take shape. They might amount to precious little but you are anxious to put your thoughts out there and see them in the form of words, in some ways so tangible yet intangible and fleeting. It happened to me right now in the middle of this working Monday and so I left everything and started typing this incoherent piece that it shall ultimately turn out to be.
I’ve been happy lately or maybe it is just being content. I guess it is the feeling which comes when one knows that I am finally doing something I have been wanting to do for sooooo long and even if I don’t quite reach there I’ll somehow find my way. Damn it but now I realize, how important it is to listen to that little voice in my head that had been saying this like a mantra for years and years. Sometimes even if we want something so bad we just sit around twiddling our thumbs doing nothing at all. Why do we do that?
I am also the happiest when I am the busy. I think most of us human being are programmed that way. The weekends when I am lethargic and don’t feel like getting out of my bed on Sundays are the Sundays that I am my most dissatisfied self. The Sundays I wake up early and complete all my household chores are the Sundays I am my merriest self.
I went for my weekly vegetable shopping this Friday evening as I happened to get out of work early. Most weekdays buying groceries or anything after work is so taxing but surprisingly I was very eager that day. It took just half an hour and for a change I didn’t crib to myself about having to bring everything, all alone upstairs. The one time I almost always am convinced that I do wanna get married is when I am out vegetable and grocery shopping cos the loads are always so heavy and it is so unfair having to carry it all by myself. Yes then I’ll have someone to share this task with me. Silly me.
I replayed a particular scene in my head the way I wanted to, the same Friday evening again and again and made my peace with someone. Have you ever done that? To make peace with a certain person who in reality will never bother to do so and I’ll never get the apology or the poetic justice I think I deserve so I play it out in my mind over and over again in the fashion I would have wanted things to unfold and strangely peace prevailed. My make believe peace but peace nonetheless. Closure at last.
PS: I found this poem in the morning and it left me disturbed. It was so Sylvia Plathish.