Tuesday, March 21, 2017

I was promised no illusions

(November 2016)

It was as if someone snapped her fingers. Quick intake of breath, and the turning of the head. The room is dim, quiet and cool, and there was an doorway behind you. You knew it because the light threw itself onto the floor next to you. The only sounds were your breath, and the little thuds of the heart. Air expanded your lungs, but strange, it is... a different sort. Little tingles run through your veins, as blood carries the new air to your ears, your arms, the tips of your toes, in the small of your back... everywhere. You breathe deeply again.

Did the spell break? I was in a daze. It's almost as though there was a blankness between all those years and now. What happened to all those years, I wondered.

So there I was, on the chair. I have nothing more to gain in this space; I was promised no illusions, but there are shadows dancing on the wall in front of me. When I stood up and walked towards the doorway, there were no regrets but a pang and a longing.

The initial excitement of finding a final piece that fits snugly in the jigsaw puzzle of my doubts did not prepare me, when I stepped across the precipice.  

Suddenly, I'm 23 again.

The time traveller who walked in to the future and then was lurched into the past without a segue. I compel my 30 year old self to answer me. Once if we had met, we would be strangers. And suddenly we're not. But in a strange difference of having more experience, maturity and a more quiet sombre disposition. 

If for years, you defined yourself with something, align yourself with a movement (of sorts) and basically, your identity is so intertwined by it.... How is it like to, unexpectedly, lose it?

That cord that anchored you is removed, and you're free spinning in space. Part of you sighs in relief for you are no longer. But like Lot's wife, we keep looking back because we're only human. Part of you wonders what's next. What if the next place is another shadowplay on the wall?

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