For memory has a way of seeping out of the most tightly closed chambers of our heart . for a few fleeting seconds ,and then gone. The big black vacuum never gets filled again,rather its emptiness,that translates into nothingness and becomes internalised till it merges with your self.the grief over anticipated,carefully planned future joys abruptly aborted and the longings for past that never ever translated into a future.They are as much ours as are the residue in our eyes on the aftermath of teary bloodshed. Young and naïve, still in the cocoon : tragedy usually strikes when it still did not seem like a terror.Death,when descends,seems something new and dealing with death :A virginal affair. ballads on love and odes to death has been penned with equal vigour yet its only with age one deciphers the truest and humblest meaning of love, and life while death remains in a state of bleaky confusion .The loss is sudden, yet gradual event ,not melodramatic or glamorous but yet a metamorphosis of the soul and the body .Life after a loss,does not seem too bad in the immediate aftermath. loss hardly seems like a threat, a change… after all the froth settles down at the bottom of life’s beaker and we come face to face with the loss of loss we are able to read cheap sympathies as attention of the cheapest class we would later detest.Loss is perpetual ,like the monotonous tick tock of a clock on a sluggish solitary midnight or the tap tap tap tap from the rusty watertap in an abandoned ruin…It is grief which then graduates into a personal affair,that ultimately moulds and shapes. Grief needs to be guarded fiercely, as private possessions rather acquisitions or conquests of honour,for it is the sense of loss and the idea of grief that has been instrumental in carving the finest steel .grief leads to catharsis and as the sweet ,little world find its way to all naïvity and innocence,and as the cocoons are crushed and daggers are drawn behind the pangs of unexplainable loneliness crawls like a serpent,threatening to choke with its venomous bite.
Loss ,ultimately I figured out, is a state of the mind,possession of the body – a state of illusion. Impermanence of life, and frugality of the flesh blinds ,trapped in a complex web of virtual reality ,the matrix of Maya only acts as a spoiler.And it is then that i am somewhat amazed and awestruck by the dexterity of the insignificantly humble spider,noiseless ,patient,attached yet so very detached from its web of matrix .Thus, loss, as i understand now,does not destroy .Loss is ultimately what stays, much after everyone left.