You know how poets and artists alike relate life to a journey? Symbolically a journey is shown as paths, roads, highways, railway tracks and such. Then everyone, and everything else who comes into contact with us are shown as little blips on the roadmap. Like a timeline that children at school draw. To show how significant their 10-12 years has been with respect to a personal event and a world event.
People. They are events that stay closer to your heart. Touch you in different ways and affect you in a few more.Tthe random stranger who holds the door open for you at the gas station, to a buddy. Different levels, different strokes. Sometimes they loop back to you. People from the past who drift apart for no reason but for the advent of time, occasionally by freak of nature of no conscious attempt on either side, the paths cross again.
When it does, there is a recognition and a spark of memory that floods us. Flashback mode. Then instinctly our mind compares. Contrasts.
I did exactly that yesterday. I rarely blog hop these days for lack of time and having lost interest (of no offence to ones who blog) in reading, I clicked on a comment at my story here, and I landed at another blog that had blogrolled someone called Platypus. The name in itself is uncommon. The nick even more. It took me back 7 years back to another life. Online forums at Sulekha. Sulekha CH, Coffeehouse.
Those days, Sulekha had just started up, and the coffeehouse was a little hub for many students, and folks who’d gotten onto the net quick. It was small, cozy and everyone knew everyone by their real names. Trusting wasn’t an issue. Until by the end of 2002, it got larger in folks who hubbed out there, and as always fame and popularity has its dark side. In any case, among a few nicks that were popular for various reasons (including the infamous, flirty, playful and the serious debating ones) Platypus was one.
Apart from conversing and talking in telugu (which instantly sparked my interest, and still does) he wrote short stories. Good ones too. Though I did not know him at a personal level, I remember him as a strapping young 26 year old in the Bay Area on H1. I remember smaller details too. His movie reviews. I remember him telling us he was getting married, and one specific evening of his walk in the beach with his new wife, and how they had decided to move back to Nellore. Then how they actually did.
He am sure wouldn’t know me, as we didn’t interact much, aand I was just a beginner fledgling. He wrote, while I just whiled time.
It’s amazing how all those details came to me. I’ve always known I have a penchant for remembering the most useless details, but to see all of these come back to me when I saw his blog and posts was a little un-nerving. Not in a bad way definitely, coz there’s truly nothing shameful or uncomfortable about such events. He was a nice online persona, and it’s a shame to read about what he has gone through. He still writes well and am glad he does.
Humans are tenacious to a large extent. We bounce back almost always. Some more quicker than the other, but ultimately we do. We may not be the exact same individual that comes back after a fall too. To retain your self; despite adversities and situations that may profoundly change your outlook on life, people and relationships, requires a greater strength within the individual.
Hard to maintain.
On a separate unrelated yet disturbing incident, I realized last afternoon that a friend blocked me on gchat. I am not quite sure on how to react to that. I do not remember any specific action of mine that would cause her to do such a thing. Of course it’s a knee jerk reaction to immediately question and doubt oneself when something goes amiss. After 24 hours of thought as I write this, I still am unsure on how to react. It isn’t dismay, nor anger nor even letdown. To think we were more than acquaintances (we were for a long time) and have shown each other our vulnerable sides and I believe could be truly called “friends”. If the fault was with me, it must have been the one time when I took liberty in demanding to have been told of something that seemed obvious enough to me. She must have taken offence to it. After not seeing her online for 2 days, I emailed her (along with 8 other people – onlien and real included – whom I haven’t been in touch with recently) and all but her have replied back. Then I discover that I was blocked.
Am not sad nor am I bemoaning the basis of rejection, just puzzled and perhaps even lost on the situation that has presented itself and now I have this mess on my hands that I should make an effort to clean just so I can sleep at night. Am sure there’s a perfectly valid explanation for it, something that I must be missing. Little things like this bother me, especially when I don’t find answers. I know, I probably belong to a generation that doesn’t exist anymore. I know how ET must feel. A younger pal tells me that I am not responsible for others behaviors. She is right.
I have noticed that people in their attempt to survive have built walls around themselves. A castle if you so please. Complete with a moat that hides hungry crocodiles and armored guards with spears. Just coz you know the guard or even the minister within, does not give you the liberty to barge in and raid their closet and partake of the royal menu. The crocodile sees just a fat piece of meat that is encroaching and would in the course of the event make a nice meal as well.
Boundaries and appearances must be maintained. Familiarity must breed contempt after all.
Inaction however is not a choice. By not acting, one shows disinterest in the situation, and in a way complete disregard for the relationship and the person who is involved, not to mention laying a dent in our own value system. We are precious to ourselves, no doubt, but having to step above ourselves and make calm the waters that flow between, perhaps helps us in retrospect.
Either way, this too shall pass.