Wednesday, January 12, 2011

real and virtual

And far from all the fret and the fury, far from the noisy bargain of the real world, as I travel this road, every single time, I so long to belong here, once more, forever.

I know I am just a passerby, who has the right of a glance at this rural peace, but not the right to touch it, to feel it, and to relish it. They are scared, that I might devour it, so they conspire to keep me apart. And I could never make them understand that I stand here, with greedy eyes, only to admire, and not devour.

As I think of my now and my then, I so long to return to the then again. As I laze in my terrace roof, basking under the warmth of the late winter afternoon, I can’t see a human object around me; except for the rows of wet clothes, waiting patiently to be dried crispy by the power of the sun. And yet again, I realize that such a power holds this soil. The power to keep me back, but unfortunately it holds me no more. It has let me loose, for quite a while now. And I have since then, been like a creeper, living a parasitic existence. But somehow, I am reminded of this ancient myth, wherein the earth opened up and threw her out, only to take her back in due time. I relate so much to her. But I know, between the out and the in, between the rejecting and the absorbing, there are a series of tasks I am bound to perform. An episodic epic, my life is to compose.

As I lie down on the terrace, my laptop being my only connection to the outer world, I suddenly hear a ping. I chat away blissfully, forgetting the entire existence momentarily. I smile, I frown, I think, I laugh… but it is only momentary. And I love this, even if I know quite well, that this is only virtual, and far removed from the mundane reality of the everyday world you and I live in. I do not visualize you with a head, torso, and limbs. You are to me, like a square box, with random lines erupting like a volcano out of nowhere; and it is again momentarily, that I want to melt away in the heat, though my real existence is almost frozen. I regain my senses, to look around, and realize that the afternoon has said goodbye, and the sun has been down for quite long now. I gaze up to see a thousand twinkling lights above my head; I reach out my hands, but can’t touch them, can’t count them. It’s winter here, and I realize I must have more clothes on. My flimsy adornment can’t fight the chilly winter evening. Hence I bid goodbye to the momentary warmth of your volcanic existence, to cover my real self up and defend myself against the cold reality.

1 comment:

  1. Like they say, we are passing ships anchoring at certain spots at certain times....only to move on.
    At times the virtual world seems comfortable and cosy but the real world is where we have to go back, where our lives boring or busy, good or old lie.....nice, introspective post... ;)