Thursday, June 30, 2011

There’s a certain comforting harmony in the very little bits and pieces of everyday existence that is so inherent, I’d be hard pressed to take notice at all. But harmony assuring as it might be also has that undeniable monotony to it. Discord is intrusive, but perhaps it has a rhythm of its own. How else could I hope to find happiness in life? A life that has become so exhaustively banal, I’m looking for joy in half baked arguments and discarded movie tickets.

Laugh at the silliness of it, at the echoingly empty grandness I call progress. It’s not a growing diffidence you’d associate with my achievements; it’s just that clich├ęd jolt of realization that we won’t be aching to claw out each others eyes anymore. It goes without saying that you will always be the bully, loud and obnoxious. But I shall miss the ringing in my ears long after you’ve stopped shouting. Because it’s different. When you raise your voice, I’d still hear it over the din.

I’ll learn to pick out the right clothes, do up my eyes the fancy way and turn on the charm like you taught me to. I’d keep a smart tongue and sparkly teeth. But when I get back home, take off my heels and rub my sore toes, I’ll learn to keep the blabbering to myself. Perhaps I’d be half tempted to make a call, but then I’ll count the hours, gauge and sigh. I’ll stoically put my story aside and go to bed. I’ll learn to untangle our togetherness, I’ll learn to grow up.





I THOUGHT I was not alone, walking here by the shore,

But the one I thought was with me, as now I walk by the shore,

As I lean and look through the glimmering light-that one has utterly disappeared,

And those appear that perplex me

-Walt Whitman