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It was a lazy Sunday morning when both of us – me and the sun - were trying hard to distance ourselves from the sick daily routine of waking up early. While I lay there in my couch half awoke and half slept not yielding to the constant calls from my mother to discard both the lousiness and the bed; my counterpart, the sun, was comfortably hiding deep under those dark blue sheets of the clouds, unwilling to come out despite being constantly nudged by the flowing gentle breeze.
The weekend does give you that slight push for being sluggish and shrug away the distractions around just to snatch those extra moments of sleep. But at times the joy of being indifferent does have its own repercussions compelling you to react instantly so as to avoid the aftereffects. When despite constant gentle nudges and callings neither of us obliged, our benefactors took the harder way out to deal us. While my mother almost screamed the hell out of me, when she shouted alarmingly warning me to get out of the bed and clean my bookshelf immediately (something which I have been deferring from last many weeks), the erstwhile gentle breeze also grew violent turning into strong gust of wind erasing away those darker sheets of clouds underneath which the lousy sun was sleeping. The next moment, both of us were out from our respective couches doing the tasks we both were entrusted to do.
There is some inherent joy in the accidental discovery of some of the old forgotten belongings which still boast of those nostalgic moments wrapped up in its attire and mere touching them bridges the gap between being forgotten and remembered. Post my forced exile from my world of dreams, most reluctantly, I took on to the task of cleaning and re-managing the bookshelf. While I was taking books out of the shelf, I found an old diary of mine hidden beneath the pile of books making all attempts to peek and steal my attention. It was a strange feeling and the moment I picked and opened it up, it sprinkled back some of those moments on my face which halted my world in an instant, taking me back in introspection. It was altogether a great feeling to go through some of the phases of my life again with those ‘lost & found’ moments of mine.
I have always been an introvert soul, never really found it easy to comprehend how and what I felt to anyone. The best of the company I ever enjoyed was perhaps mine own and then this habit of writing a journal somehow occurred and life did felt great. The joy was not just limited to writing but also to reading those nuggets later only to find that fainting smile on the face saying, “Oh God… that’s how I felt like that day.” I don’t know why I stopped writing but when the gap occurred; every attempt of mine to resume the same went futile. Life went on with its own phase but somewhere deep within the void remained.
And then, that lost & found diary episode made my thoughts pregnant with a desire to start it again and after rounds of ayes and nays, the blog, Musings of a wandering heart, was born on April 01 2014. . . Yes the blog completes a year today, and today on its first birthday it’s a ‘feel good’ sweet feeling to have it in my embrace.
The first post of the blog attempted to capture (though in a bit crude manner) as to what this blog was intended to do. ‘To rekindle thoughts and share snippets of life that fills the cosmos around’, it said but deep inside I know it was something more than that.
It has surely been an eventful year having its own highs and lows and what merely started as the random scribblings & book review, slowly encompassed poetry (both English and Hindi), fiction, travelogues and much more; not to forget a brief period of un-proclaimed hibernation which, though, occurred too early for a new born blog but surely came with its own sets of experiences. Though in retrospection, I can candidly say that there would have been some more posts, some more sharing but for my utter laziness (or busyness, as I may defend myself) I didn’t write. As I see back, it feels immensely great to be a part of this blogging world, to be in touch (again a bit abruptly though) with all those amazing souls there who have spared all the effort to visit, read and offer the feedback on the posts written.
Before I conclude . . . here is a letter from me to my ‘Musings’ on her first birthday. . .
Dear Musings . . . Happy Birthday!!!
Today as you turn one my joy knows no bound seeing you transforming from a half-baked, half-believed and half-conceived thought to a fully carved, fully woven and fully convinced platform that has stood by me through-out the year – expressly or impliedly. Trust me, though it’s your first birthday, my bonding with you spans beyond the last 365 days and permeates through the half burnt ashes of those concealed pages of my beloved journals which were reluctantly destroyed by me. The flames emitting from those always gave me goose bumps, leaving me with the longings for those disappearing words and vanishing moments – Oh, if I could embrace those flames within me. How ignorant was I at that time that I couldn’t surmise, I couldn’t decipher that it is from those flames you would emerge. Yes Musings, you are my phoenix that has taken a re-birth over the period from those vaporizing flames of those half burnt ashes.
I know I have not been the best of the guardian with just months after your birth I had sent you on an un-proclaimed hibernation without even realizing that it was especially during that initial phase you needed me more. I regret it now but deep within you know what you mean to me and being away from you is actually a curse upon me and not a punishment to you, my love.
I know there were times when you cried hard to attract my attention so that you can gift me one of those ever loving hugs in form of those lovely posts, but I ignored them completely leaving you sad and alone. I realize that even those cries of yours had the noble intent of giving me one of the lovable posts which I could cherish down the memory line. But poor me, I just couldn’t make myself available to you, to cuddle you, to feel that smile, that hug of yours.
I know there were times when you came toddling on your knees with a strong desire to stay beside me; holding my legs urging me to pick & embrace you up and part away with that restlessness, that grew within. But I just pampered you with the smile and continued with the restlessness within. I realize that those urges of yours had the sole intention of eradicating that ever growing restlessness within me, which was boggling me down, pushing me deep in the ocean of despair.
I know there were times when you felt alone with no one dropping at your threshold to give you company, to praise your smiles (post) and to compliments your innocence (craft). Why to blame others Musings, when I, your guardian, left you in solace. But let me confess dear, none of it was intentional. The world around me was not conducive enough to aid and support & each one around appeared to be conspiring to extract even that last drop of my time, effort, energy and sometimes motivation. No…please don’t think that I am making a case for myself to defend my ignorance of yours. I understand the lapse has been there and there is no escape from it.
But trust me Musings, you are special and will always remain so cause in every shade of yours there is a reminiscence of mine. Stay beside me always . . . today, tomorrow and forever.
Your’s own. . . Muser
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~Shubh Life . . . Om Sai Ram
© 2015 Manish Purohit (Reserved)
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