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Knife’s Edge

June 19, 2010

Life sometimes is like balancing on the fine edge of  a knife. Not the cutting end. That tip, which is the most painful when pressed against your skin. It breaks your skin so minutely that the drop of blood which glistens seems beautiful, instead of showing the pain it does.

And sometimes, winds blow against you, trying to push you off the knife and you try to stay there, despite the pain.

Do I sound morbid and incomprehensible? That is  mostly how I feel right now. How did I cruise 25 years to come to this point when I feel I am caught in a storm?

There have been times of trouble… several. But it was one issue at a time. And so, there could be one part that was calm and rational.

Ironically, people have been saying that I’ve been quiet and calm the past few days. Well, some do say that I’ve been too quiet. But I guess that is because I am trying not to think about anything in particular. The fear, the anxiety and the sheer nausea the thoughts bring… I cannot handle it alone. There is a niggling question in the back of mind which tries to keep clawing out – what is this isn’t a temporary thing?

I mean… the very foundations on which I stood are moved right now. The things I thought I wanted to do … the places I thought I wanted to be… the person I wanted to be… the people I wanted to be with… some of them aren’t happening, I don’t want some of them anymore. And that changes the dimension of my existence in a really scary way.

Year ago, I watched a movie. It is actually a short film directed by my dad’s friend.

It was about this guy – who is mostly shown walking around parts of Bangalore, drinking coffee with someone in an outdoor cafe (was that the press club?) or standing on the balcony – watching people or the sky – during a party. And every now and then, they showed a clock, connected to a home-made circuit.

I guess it is like a time bomb which was set to go off… only a matter of time, not sure when.

After the screening, my family and me debated about what the movie meant. We found it a little stupid (it wasn’t that well done, to be honest). And the time bomb conclusion was what we came to. And over the years, my mind kept going back to it and I figured it would explode when the person could no longer handle the changes around him.

I am not very receptive to changes. As versatile and curious as I am, I prefer my home base (as I call it) to remain steady. It is a cocoon to which I can return to when the world grows too strong.

Am I just 25? I feel much older sometimes.

Photo of the day: Where I wanna be right now

Barges on the Lea Valley, originally uploaded by Jahina.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. yaj permalink
    June 21, 2010 10:02 am

    In my views , when we grow older, we tend to become less receptive to all the things which are out of our comfort zone .But then i would say ,it’s just a state of mind which get used to all the comforts around us.Our real identity is, what we are when we have our back against a wall .

    • June 21, 2010 7:51 pm

      That was very well put. But sometimes… back against the wall makes people react in ways they normally would never act. Desperation makes people take the craziest path. Two sides of a coin I guess.

      • yaj permalink
        June 22, 2010 6:09 am

        Yeah , the same as Federer always crumbling against Nadal although he being the better class among the two .Nadal pushes him to the wall and there he(Federer1)falls.So, shall we neglect it with a excuse or accept that he does become vulnerable when out of his comfort zone ?

      • June 22, 2010 4:33 pm

        i’m really not gonna use this metaphor for sports. For other situations in life, yes. But not for sports.

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