Life in a doll house

You know the thing about time? It happens. It doesn’t wait for you. You can’t catch up to it.

This is what you’ve heard all your life. What if I told you they are wrong? What if I told you that life doesn’t happen? It is us that happen. It is time that is running ahead at bullet speed and will probably crash way too soon than we want it to, incinerating life, us, in its wake.

We are not trying to catch up to time. We are trying to slow it down, to rein it in a little. Time is like the untamed alpha-wolf. It’ll let you be fooled into thinking that you are the leader, the alpha, until you realize that you are just a beta. By the time you realize that, it’d be too late.

It makes us think, no? That life happens, time happens, we happen. What’s the big deal? What are we doing here? We are all trying to comfort ourselves, fooling ourselves in the process, letting relations describe us. We form close bonds with our cousins, our family, friends, some maybe more than that. But a time comes when you realise that it’s all a farce.

The moment comes when you realize the fastidiousness of life. We are in a doll’s house, long forgotten in the attic, collecting dust as we speak. We play this game of life as we rot away, and ignore that yes, that is what’s happening to you. It’s a wonderful game that we’ve lost ourselves into. We’ve forgotten the attic that’s outside the doll house, the house outside the attic, the street outside the house.

Now we’re slowly rediscovering the world again, barely aware that the attic exists – so full of new things, bits and pieces long forgotten. A chocolate wrapper lying abandoned behind the broken cuckoo clock. The long forgotten dinner set gifted to you on your anniversary. We say we’re discovering a new world. But are we? It was there all along. We were just too dense to acknowledge that fact. Only now you realize how small a world you’ve found yourselves in.

And you realize the time you’ve been granted is too small, too short to discover it whole. But does that mean we don’t attempt at all to discover it? We could climb the walls of the doll house. Someone else will take the same way up and continue ahead. And here is the truth of all as you climb up and take your last breaths. Life is a relay. You just pass on the message of how it goes and walk on the trodden footpath. Most of us choose to walk on that worn-out path. Some have the courage to continue ahead and then the others choose to follow that new path.

But take a moment to consider this. If all of us went out to discover the world outside the doll-house and the attic, wouldn’t we discover the street outside sooner?

Sorrow – What is it to you?

Sorrow is the texture of an old jeans.┬áIt sounds like the fans in an air conditioner, a constant reminder – always there. It looks like the bark of an old, withering, bitter neem tree. It tastes like curd – sweet and sour in equal measure; and it smells like a red chilli, in its sharpness and bluntness, bringing tears to your eyes.