Thursday, March 24, 2011

Ode to a dear friend

It all started on a boring, rainy December evening, some six years back. I was stuck at work doing some maintenance and monitoring tasks. Lots of free, undisturbed time on hand and I had nothing better to do. So I decided to while away the remaining time by sharing some tit-bits about me and my views on few arbitrary things to her.

My neighbor!

My reasoning was ‘All my friends have one such. Why not I?’ Like pen-pals. Like rayil snegham, believing it to be almost ephemeral. For one, I had no intention of maintaining much contact. Or for that matter neither was I counting on sustaining interest (either ways) much longer. Sensible or otherwise, I told her what I wanted to tell, only in the way I wanted to tell and only to the extent I wanted to tell. Succinct hints and elaborate exaggeration were how I made her see me.

My Ego!

But we, she and I, have come a long way from that point on, together. What started out as a mere acquaintance slowly steadied itself to become friendship which later solidified as the most dependable confidant I ever had.

My Diary!

Ah! What all had we seen and felt. She had been my cheery mate when I was exuberant; had patiently held against my rants and angst; had, as well, bravely endured my nonsense for most part; had stood by me and mourned with me for my losses and failures; had been, and is, my identity, for some people; had seen me lonely, high, depressed, boring, unashamedly happy, secretive, dysfunctional, naughty, blank, vile, in and out of love etc; been part of my greatest joys and memorable seconds; been a medium of communication, an undelivered letter, when what is being said is too much to be shared in person. After all that, she has stuck with me, like a dear that she is.

My Conscience (sort of)!

Through her I can see the passage of time and with each turn I’m glad she was there to be part of it, to share with me and support me. I can clearly see, through her, the changes in my heart, the maturity of my thoughts, my sincere doubts and my unfulfilled dreams.

My Pensieve!

Sadly, for most part of the time I ignore her. Like routine. But when things tilt a little from that routine, I rush to find her waiting to listen and comfort. Once I divulge all my fears and anxieties and secrets, I feel a huge burden has been lifted off of me. Like with the belief in God, the need intensifies when I’m feeling powerful emotions and when I’m helpless and in want of something anything to help me out. I know it’s too selfish to be so, and I have tried to confess and promise I will ‘mind’ more regularly, but only to have the promise broken. Again!

Nevertheless, I’m really thankful for this friend. Just for being there for me!

This blog is now officially 200 posts old. A momentous moment at Pensieve!

But I want to commit. I want to be able to be regular. I need to finds avenues to enjoy indulging. I want to experiment, learn. I want to be prompted. I would like to be supported. I want an audience.

My Passion!

1 comment:

Sundar said...

Suuuupeeeeeeeer... Wow Congrats. It may have started on a boring day, but there has never been a boring or dull moment in the writing. This is a difficult art, you have had your audience going up and down with you for two centuries of your posting (I know the posts are not that old, no pun intended). Would be glad to see more regular posts and I promise would be a frequent visitor.