I built a time machine. And let me tell you – not an easy task! The dials go wonky, the hands refuse to sync with moon’s gravity and the batteries run out before you can even think 2050!
This was supposed to be a multi-directional machine. Forward and back. Left and right (Not including up and down as I don’t want to wake the Gods and the Devils). You fancy seeing your great-grandfather build the cabin by the lake or your future great-grandchildren pull it down to pieces? Hop on! Want to visit a parallel dimension to see how that meal would have tasted with an extra pinch of nutmeg or how that astronomy course might have changed your life? Got you covered!
To test it out, I had to choose the perfect moment to visit. I was seriously tempted to take a sneak peak into the future to see how the gamble D and I took with our lives would turn out. Or take a spin into the past when times were simple and safe. Or perhaps take a glimpse of an alternate reality where we stayed put in India.
That is pretty much when the time-machine ended up in the junkyard.
I now know I would have seen a future full of anxiety and second-guessing and frustration! Not to mention Canadian winters!! That itself would have been enough to firmly tie myself to the good ol’ climate of Pune. But would those stolen moments of the future done justice to the depth of my journey getting here? I am guessing no. My present tells me more about my future than the actual future; without my present, I have no future.
There is no moment I would rather be in than my present, exactly the way it is – crudely packaged with mistakes and lessons and bursts of brilliance.
My curiosity refuses to go back to sleep though. It keeps wanting to know! I am smart enough to not try to interpret the predictions of Nostradamus but neither am I so sophisticated that I won’t do those cheesy prediction tests on the internet 😀 Hey! If I am destined to be a travel guide in Prague then there is always hope right??
I feel like I am forever trying to strike a deal with time – Don’t tell me the answers, but give me the four options!Or a teaser pack if you will. A movie trailer of my life with cool background music doesn’t sound so bad!
I play with online prediction tests while I resist the call to salvage the time-machine.
That’s the thing about old friends. Instinct becomes your first and only language when emotions stay shrouded behind cooled gestures.
There are layers anew to peel off, bespoke of tense energy. But unexpectedly, a collision opens a floodgate of unspoken sentiments that simmer for an instant. Time goes back and in your heart you know that there can never be a second round. But you imagine a once over, desperate to pick out an alternative where barriers don’t need to be broken down, where your laugh is louder than the wind and the music isn’t a sanctum of restrained emotion.
But time doesn’t stop and the last vestiges of the sparks remain in the pointed scrawls lurking in the latent mind and the splinters of memories tinged with sepia.
It is slow. It is painful. It is unavoidable. It is welcome.
I am bending to the will of the increasing warmth of the sun. The clouds have broken through in a glorious display of song and dance, the memories of the frost all but forgotten. It feels like waking up from a long, tormented sleep where even nightmares would have been welcome instead of the blank lifeless vacuum that held no concept of meaning.
The blood is running through my fingers again as I furiously set the pen to paper. Doodles make way to letters and then somehow, magically, unfathomably, the letters are turning to words. I am afraid to stop writing lest the sunshine gets lost and I get frozen – suspended back into the land of the long winter.
Oh! I have missed being here. I have missed giving reign to my thoughts. I have missed the joy of not knowing which words my fingers might bleed. I have missed being envious of the brilliance of fellow bloggers and writers. I have missed being inspired.
It has been a long journey to open my blog again. For months I was contemplating, but I couldn’t turn it into a task. This place was always about choice, about joy and about freedom. I was loathe to make it into something akin to duty. My mind was numb. It was all about laundry lists and action items in the long journey of settling down which somehow never seemed to happen. It has been almost a year since I moved to Toronto and yet, my mind took its sweet time into making the city its own.
I don’t know when this city became home but I will tell you when I realized it – last Sunday. D and I took our first long vacation since moving here and got back on Sunday. That is when I equated the end of the vacation with coming back home. My condo and my city was what I wrapped around myself with a sense of comfort and security. This in turn, encouraged me to welcome myself back into my second home – this place 🙂
Let the good times begin! Happy Summer everyone 🙂 How have you been?