In a nightless sleep
Updated: Jan 14
I am in one of those sudden downward curves now, where melancholy seems the pace of life; where the saxophone and the violin combine to make you cry; and the mind cries but the face smiles. The wish for rains has to be substituted with showers, the longing for warmth being compensated with tea, and the desire for a hug being put away with a pillow.
A feeling that has taken two and a half years to resurface, and it has finally made its home inside me again. This is a feeling that is all too familiar, yet each time it has a weird freshness to it, one which makes you severely unprepared whilst being awfully familiar with it. It’s like meeting an old friend after years, and while the friend is the same, there’s something different.
And that is when you realise that time is not a catalyst nor an inhibitor, it is a veil - a veil behind which flows the current of change and if you don’t pay attention, you are either caught in the current or left behind. And while your attention to change is crucial, it is not enough. The powerlessness to fight the change is the epidemic of mankind - debilitating and mystifying. To be a passive observer as the world around you changes - building and crumbling, as one follows the other - and watching it happen helplessly is the defining challenge of our generation.
How to stay affected yet unperturbed, aware yet quiet, damaged yet scarless, and dying but alive, is the unholy grail.
And thus, for every smile I break, it reeks of a scavenged within; and as I close my eyes to sleep, my brain opens its eyes to see.