This is an attempt to resurface, - this time with a valid id_card.
My intent is not to state non committal things about a person who is moody and indecisive, but to enliven cold rainy evenings such as this, the evening that I decided to start my e-journal.
I survive by writing because I exist in my thoughts. Actions are inconclusive because they do not state anything about the person. Its more about the event, the circumstances, the time.
For example, I can interpret my move away from my own city to far away Delhi, as liberating, a bid for freedom, a practical necessity.
Someone ill disposed to me would call the same move hot headed, escapist and rebellious.
Well, I do not really know because I judge not by action but by intention, not by what happens in the cold substance of the "real" world, but by what happens in the heart and in the head. That journey is infinitely more interesting, complex and wild than the Tame ride by The Rajdhani Express to the Indian capital.
I found deep respect for the friend who first articulated this trend of thought and made me awaken from the slumberous inertia of mindless methodical action.. She asked me not to take this life too seriously when I was disparaging myself to her for enjoying the "escapist" fiction of Harry Potter and neverland.. She gently asked me to regard this life as an illusion, blink your eyes and it is over, Like a beautiful dream...
We were speaking over the telephone so she could not have seen my stunned face. My jaw dropped, ungracefully I might add !
What was I even doing, pondering the intricacies of a dream? Do we enjoy the wild ups and downs of the roller coaster ride or do we mentally calculate the rate of our acceleration or how many G-forces we are experiencing?
We kill the moment when we analyze the action. We resurrect the act when we analyze the meaning of the act.
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(c) Amrita Valan 2014
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