End of another year. Usually I have stopped taking notice of year ends. In the endless flow of time, end of a year is just another man-made marker. That too depending on which calendar we choose to follow. It’s just because the Gregorian calendar is being followed by the largest percentage of this planet, this has acquired added significance. Yet on days like these, sometimes, the mind tries to take a break and ponder on the days that went by.
And this is the very reason why I avoid thinking about the yearly round-up – it makes me travel back. And most of the times than not, it becomes difficult to stop within the desired distance. And while counting my blessings and all that I got, it’s also difficult not to think about what we’re lost and what could have been. There is absolutely no doubt that this past twelve months has showered countless rewards. Have received joys for which I have waited all my life. Joy of togetherness, joy of unconditional love, hugs when I needed them badly and also when I never expected. The 31,622,400 seconds were filled with reasons to thank the almighty for finally listening to me. Yet… yes the crazy heart still says yet.
For a person who years to do so much and more, not being able to be allowed to do as per my capability, for reasons beyond my control is unthinkably frustrating. Though this is not the first time I have experienced this. And all those time, I had directed my energy and thoughts to somewhere else. At time they fetched good results and also at times they had devastating consequences. So this time – I tried to rein in the wanton mind. Slowly tried to soothe it and made it fall in line. The Bohemian was domesticated; with obvious fall outs. Time and again it tries to break the shackles and run away.
Luckily, after a long hiatus, the words finally decided to march back. They arrive the moment a domesticated sheep breaks the shackles and decides to become the blue songbird. It sings his heart out –
Some answers still waiting
For their questions
Some stares still waiting
For their smiles
Some silence still waiting
For their sighs
Behind the veil of morning fog
Lost as nameless star in moonlit night
And mid-summer shadow of flying bird
Some void still waits
Some Answer still waiting
For their questions
It’s not easy to swim across the tide. But then that is something I always knew. Still the renegade sometimes gets tired. And these are the time when looking at the pale tired full moon peeking out of a piece of cloud, he sighs. The melancholy takes over, and droplets of fire rolls down the cheek, unnoticed. He keeps pushing the rewind and play buttons, hoping to hear some quickly fading lost words. A waft of breeze sweeps past his forlorn face, nudges it back to reality. Soon he is happy to lose himself in the cacophony of life, grinning and enjoying the world dancing around and telling him how lucky he is.
Lucky indeed, to have someone promising to be a journey-mate, an equal among the herd of sheep, helping me paint my canvas with my rainbow. It’s just that the Gypsy heart keeps bolting to places which world only looks with a frown. Yet I live, I love, I laugh and wait for the world to become Gypsy with me.