Names of people, places and events evoke emotions in me. All these "nouns" that are sometimes very important, and sometimes seemingly insignificant, have put their stamp on my personailty en route the elusive destination of my life.
As much as I wish to be not affected by these elements in my life and keep walking independent of any form of attachment, it is just the disillusionment of detachment that I discover during my bouts of toughtfulness. Apparently, I am responsible for the way I feel. I may begin to dissociate myself from people, from places, but in my mind I remain as attached and loyal to good memories as the time they were being created.
I had read somewhere, "People will never remember what you did or what you said. But they will always remember how you made them feel." Certain people have made me feel very strongly, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. The stronger the emotion aroused then, the stronger the association of the person with a deeper shade of my disillusioned detached feelings.
So, in the end, doesn't it boil down ot the same thing? Our interactions always evoke emotions, Out attitudes and general frames of mind help us form our opinions of others, which make us like or dislike them.
Some things that I look back on when I am down and out, and the things that salvage me from depreciatory self-piteous phases; An affectionate nickname that someone calls me by. The urge to make someone laugh. Mock annoyance when the joke is on me. Cacophony in company of friends. Moments spent knowing more about my best friend. Voluble silences that accompanied quiet conversations. And days that were made wonderful only by the mere presence of some favourite people around.
I would rather forget people who brought me pain and hurt me by lying to me and undermining me; saying things that angered me and by betraying my trust. I only remember the lessons learnt and choose to scoot from there.
Life is a magnificent gift. Things will sometimes be difficult. They will be confusing. But to look beyond that confounding string that refuses to untie or the psychedelic wrapping paper is what is important. Oftentimes, there are a series of silly boxes to open before you get to the real gift. Don't look for happiness. Create it. Happiness is too fleeting to be found in one place.
Back to my favourite metaphor about life and memories: the kaleidoscope. The broken pieces of colourful glass are like the many shades of sentiments we experience throughout the span of our lives. Isolated and in their exclusivity, these fragments mean nothing. But when you put them all together and reflect upon them in totality, you see how these useless pieces combine and fuse with each other to form the most beautiful patterns; each extraordinarily beautiful, each unique, each unlike any other.
The magic and the ironic beauty of life...!
A heavy heart
A throbbing head
Some smiles I recollect
Some tears I brush aside
Still looking for an illusion
Living in a happy hallucination
I breathe, laugh, cry
Wrap it all in rosy velvet
Gift it to my days to come