Sunday, March 21, 2021

To let go:

Some memories despite your reticence and expostulation, can consume you from within, like termites. While the battle is constant to erase, it pops up in your head, deludes and derails you from your daily routines or patterns that you have achieved. Perhaps, there lies a problem in our upbringing, we were told that we were special and once you were an over achiever over a quantum of time, you tend to think so – that with the high status that you have maintained for yourself, the saddle you climbed that needs to be let gone, is painfully excruciating: be it to your pride, be it to your wellbeing.

But memories are not mere anecdotes or snippets, you cannot mend it like emending mere paraphrases or words. Your throes are your own, and a mode you choose to live with it, is your own voyage. Nobody can intercede for you, those painful narrations come to you like sinusoidal waves. At times, it creates the greatest of tsunamis and at times, you are left unaltered. But beauty of emotions is such, you either realize that you are no different from a phoenix, that you too can rise from the ashes, or you just are engulfed towards your flammability, you are your own Nero, just like in a journey from the first volume of your own Divine Comedy, no Virgil to guide you and only Robert Frost’s paraphrase to motivate: Take the road not taken. How you wish mere words could elevate your soul, merit your state of mind easily.

You wither and tither in your own worse memories, the limbo and inferno that you do not have control over, malevolence of your own to your own, past lived, remembered vividly. In chaos and entropy of what seems proliferations of uncontrollable, raise a voice from within, it had happened, it might happen and let it not happen to others – but set me free from this misery, let me be resilient, let me be free for a while. Let me borrow some strength, to let go, to let go. Mind is prison, mind is paradise. To some extent, partially it is in your hands, partially in your fate: but the knack of choice is all yours, to let go, to let go.

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