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Life is a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

The act of creation — it leads me to unknown places. Only to make me realize that all was known, always. And yet, I live every day with the hope that I’ll explore, create and grow into someone new. Because what’s life if not a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

In this journey, music lives by my side. I find melody in my writing, and a lot of writing in my melodies. Sometimes, I hear songs in the bubbles of boiling tamarind water. Or in the stroke of red paint over the canvas. Or in the giggles of a child after a good joke. Tunes find their way even into my boredom, curiosity and the thoughts in between. And a rhythm taps into my sorrow, so it can take the leap to laughter.

Such is music. Such is life — yours and mine.

Hello!

Sorry for stealing your friend

If I were to look back at this week, I should feel relieved that I have managed to make someone share their grief, their pain and all that they had held for years; and lightened them up. But unfortunately, I don't feel so.

Imagine that you are suddenly left alone. No, this is not like being alone in an uninhabited place where you can dream of finding company. This is also not like being ditched by your family & friends, pushing you to create a new life for yourself. And this is also not being left alone to express yourself through your art.

This 'being alone' comes after you have lived a well-organised, well-protected life. You are introduced to this 'being alone' while your immediate life members are still around you. This 'being alone' comes when someone you shared your emotional existence with just disappears. This 'being alone' doesn't come with any real 'this is for your good' hope. This is 'being alone', gifted to you - raw & ruthless.

If I have ever been or if I ever happen to be again in a situation cited above, I think I will find company in some feeling or experience only known to me. Like a painful truth that I can chew on everyday ; an ugly story that no one would want to hear; or an illusion that no one wants to look at.

Whether it's a hypothetical story or an ugly truth, it will become my best friend. I guess this week I stole that friend from someone. As they told me everything, maybe they felt good but with every word, I felt that I should hear no more.

Perhaps they will move on, perhaps they will do better now but for once, I know I have left someone more alone than they were ever before.

RIP, grief. Because you are the most loyal friend one can have, until they give you away.

UncategorizedKavitaalone, feelings, life, tragedy