There comes a time in a person's life, when his entire perspective on things undergoes a complete metamorphosis, when his whole perspective changes, and things which seemed relevant a year and a half ago may seem trivial, like some vestiges of an era gone by, like an old scribble on a palimpsest, existing only as a mere shadow of it's former self.
This metamorphosis, may come from inside, or it may require a little help from outside. In my case, it was a bit of both. The outside was somewhat like fuel, without which, the logs of wood, are well, just logs of wood. Again, my definition of the ‘outside’ may be a little ambiguous, it may be a person, the environment , but I think it has one defining characteristic. This very entity, may directly or indirectly reveal your very soul to you.
I had some presumptions about my ‘soul’. It turns out that I was wrong. Imagine if you had these goggles, which allowed you to see everything, albeit in a particular shade. Now imagine that you had these goggles fitted on right since your birth. In such a scenario, one would believe that his world basically has one particular colour, only with slightly different shades. Now imagine that one fine day, someone takes these goggles of your eyes, and suddenly you see all these colours and hues, which you had never seen before. In a similar fashion, my presumptions about myself suddenly started to appear irrelevant, if not baseless.
I was a very ambitious person, which I believed was a very good thing. My whole life revolved around my plans, my future, the big company, fame, fortune, you know the routine. I don’t deny that it wasn’t exciting. There was that rush. But it was a little bit like opium. The rush, the feeling was all very fleeting. Another thing was my dependence on my absolute principles. Everything was either high or low, good or evil, black or white. Most things in life, I learnt later on, were a shade of grey.
So my love for materialistic glory gave way to things more subtle, and from ‘Gates’, I moved on to ‘Ghalib’. I am still on a pursuit no doubt, only the destination is different. I assume the destination is ‘happiness’, but then again some routes aren’t supposed to lead you to a particular destination. Or maybe ‘happiness’ is the route itself. Maybe ‘happiness’ is the origin, the destination and the route. This pursuit has different manifestations; it may be in music, in poetry, in language or anything else. This pursuit could be an ‘entity’ or a mere figment of my imagination.
I don’t think, this article, like my ‘pursuit’, should have a conclusion. I don’t know where my journey will lead me, hence this article should also, like the written spirit of my thoughts, shouldn’t end here…………………………………………………………………………or should it?