Of Feeling and Thinking

Work is relaxed right now. We still haven’t jumped into deep waters, and everyone is adrift with just enough to do and almost nothing to do. It’s a scarily delicate balance. One prod here and we’ll have our hands full. One nudge there and we can while away time just as we please! So, basically I do have time to read, to listen to music, to pose for a portrait (yes, yes :-)), and to glide through a day.

I also have a lot of time to write. But somehow, I don’t write as much. I think a lot, though.

I meet school mates while travelling to and from work. We talk of what we’ve been doing since we left school, and how life has changed for us. I look at how times have transformed. I think about growing up and change.

I see solid structures falling apart in front of me. Both non-physical and physical. I see the disappointment and resentment that comes with it. And I think of how nothing lasts for ever. I think of times being ephemeral.

I feel my spirit dipping, then plunging, and finally broken. And then…I find it clinging onto one last thread it could find. I think of hope.

I read about bondage. About care. About the need for care and acceptance. About the need for acceptance and understanding. About understanding and love. About the acceptance of the acceptance of love. I think about us.

I listen to people. I listen to lesser music. I listen to voices that are earnest, worn out, concealing, honest, disparaging, and some of them content. I listen to experiences and of tales from a distant past. I think of how I’d narrate my life’s story one day.

I hold some hands. I give some hugs. I receive hugs and a slap on the back. I think of affection and the translation of affection.

I fight my demons. I fight negativity to protect myself from pain. I fight with people I love. I fight the system. I fight my way into a local. I fight my fears. I fight my tears. I think of everyday struggle.

I wait for people to turn up for lunch. I wait for my turn at the canteen counter. I wait for the time when this phase shall pass. I wait to be able to be like I used to or be better than I used to. I think of patience.

– Sameen