Arriving somewhere..

…but not here.

Did you imagine the final sound as a gun?
Or the smashing windscreen of a car?
Did you ever imagine the last thing you’d hear as you’re fading out was a song?

Ex lovers and bad coffee. Somehow that train of thought refuses to depart from the my over-cafeinated brain’s foreground.
Moving on is a casually thrown around term. Breakups, getting fired, getting divorced and sometimes all of those together. The most gallantly offered form of intellectual advice is – Move on. No one tells you how but everyone wants you to move on.
Never quite comprehended the concept in its entirety. This obligatory journey of “moving on” – is it an actual, physical movement or displacement or moving on inside my head. What does it take to forget?
Isnt the act of forgetting someone a warmly nurtured antithesis?
You can never forget someone when you are in the middle of making some rather lousy attempts to..well..forget someone.
Then one fine morning you wake up and they are gone. Disappeared into thin air, not their physical existence in your scheme things but your feelings for them. Of what they constituted inside your head. It is just that simple. It happens when you are busy making plans to trek to Tibet or Kinnaur and in between trawling through gorgeous Llahsa landscape shots, it comes to you on a misty Monday night, He is not here. Not physically, not anymore. And whats even more surprising is that you are perfectly ok with not wanting him here.
This seemingly unforgettable article from your past is now its own shadow. It will forever be relegated to that dark corner. Penumbra. You won’t pine or yearn or desire. You’ve ceased to Love. Him. And someone else is drifting into your consciousness even as He is losing shape.
Love’s left. Perhaps not. Its definitely shifted gears. Its pledging its legions elsewhere and that which seemed that most significant aspect of your life has now become a distant apparition. Its very being is thin air and nothing more.
Transience is Life’s greatest virtue. That everything will change and it will still go on. That is moving on, from where I stand today.
I dislike such vapid phrases like “going with the flow”. I’m not that passive, I’d rather direct the flow that get swept by the undercurrent and then cry hoarse for the next decade about how unfair people and emotions can be.
No siree, that doesn’t cut ice for me.
So, my definition of moving on is decidedly based on my favorite thing in the world – travelling. backpacking in fact. You are always hard up for funds and yet the excitement of discovery keeps you pacing forth with energy indescribable in words. One fine day you are standing dumbfounded at the foot of the mighty mountains looking at Rakcham or perhaps marvelling at the magnificience of Santorini and you’ve moved on.
Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually.


~ by iconoplastic on May 26, 2008.

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