Saturday, 5 October 2013

Next year by this time there will probably be debris where I am sitting now, well not exactly because at this place there will only be space, but you get the drift. The debris will be of stone and mortar and from that will rise another structure. It is so easy to rebuild something inanimate, how does one resurrect the debris which lies around one's heart, how does one rebuild when one sees ones own life crashing down. And yet there are some who have risen from the depths of despair to fly higher. For me the circle is complete again. The happy times are over once more and the cycle completes itself. Now I dread the thought of even being happy, of dreaming , time and time again fate has dealt a blow,and time after time I have tried to rise up to it, fallen beaten but never defeated. Fallen beaten trod on but have shaken the gathered dust of fate and stood up again with trepidation. I have looked around and found that it was not so bad and have carried on .Perhaps my fault was that I trusted and had an abiding faith in goodness, was I wrong?  In my perspective I was not, but perhaps others thought me to be wrong. I cannot help but trust the people around me for that is how I am , foolish and gullible enough to think that all people are good, because I KNOW they are,they are only the victims of their past and behave in a manner for which at most times they have no reasonable answer for. I myself have been the victim of my own thought processes many times, but I have learned to catch myself in time. It takes learning to not react instinctively but with thought. The other day when my cat bit me, somebody asked me if I gave him a yelling and a whack, how could I? He was an animal reacting with his instinct and I was a human being who had a thought process which could understand why he did what he did and if then I did as he had done what would be the difference between him and me? So I learn to live with a semi damaged nerve, the same way as I have learned to live with a darned life, but for how long will the fabric sustain itself? The debris lies around me and somewhere in the distance I hear the strains of the  modern version of an old lyric " Har kisi ko nahin milta yahan pyaar zindagi mein" . My trust will abide, and the hollow where my heart was once will soon fill up . The cycle completes itself yet again.

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