“At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.” –Alberto Manguel

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Saturday, May 21, 2016

Mizpah

1:33 a.m., May 14, 2016 –Saturday (Sleeplessness and anxiety)

I thought, I was this person who wouldn't miss people. But as the time of my return is coming, I feel like staying back and just buy some more time. I don't miss people easily and after staying away from home for so long I thought coming back from there won't affect me, but I was wrong. I guess I'll miss my mom and dad more than I thought I would. I will miss my friends here, definitely. I will blame time again, I know.

This image explains a lot.
But I know I will recover, the intensity of it will fade away. It does, always. Nothing is permanent, right? It's just so fresh and every fresh wound hurts more. I dislike distances, they say distances define love too. True, you can't love someone until you miss them. Sometimes, it’s nice to fool yourself. Heart is like a kid who believes in real Santa Claus. You gotta dress up like Santa Claus and put gifts under the Christmas tree, to make the kid happy. When a 3 year old hands you a toy phone, you answer it. Right? It's just like that.

I met few of my college friends a day before leaving after ages. We laughed and it was great time. I realized, everyone is having troubles and heartbreaks but you should laugh loudly whenever life offers you chances. Not laughing when you possibly could, is like not eating even when you are offered food and you’re badly hungry. It doesn’t make sense. We spoil half of our happiness by thinking too much about it. I do that, all the time. Just like William Wordsworth said in Lines Written in Early Spring“In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts, bring sad thoughts to the mind.” I always loved Wordsworth, I can figure out by reading something it must be written by him.

Too much of anything is bad, but I do anything either too much or not at all. There is just nothing in between. Half of it I wrote a day before leaving home and rest finishing today. It is one full week, and all I want is to be at home. Homesickness is so fresh, that I dislike talking about it. Like I am not yet over it and forced to come back.

To laugh and deal with it gracefully. I hate being weak, being guessed something is wrong. But that’s how we become strong, to deal with emotions –right? To get up, get dressed and show up at work –no matter what happened to you. It is strength, to show up when you are not even willing to leave bed. Like just dump your face in pillow and pretend it is not morning yet. Like everything is fine.

Mizpah is emotional bond between people who are separated (either physically or by death). Heavy word, but when it is fresh it looks deep and heavy. Distances teach to love, to know love and be pure. For somethings can’t be changed or replaced by distances. Pain is purity, I always believed. You become pure and beautiful when you are in pain. It is sole reminder, you’re alive. I wonder, if people miss me too maybe with lesser intensity I miss them. Parents are blessings, truly. I decided in my teenage, I will never leave them or do anything that hurts them. Signing out, may God bless y’all.

2 comments:

  1. Reminds me of my out station days..The presence of some relationships is never felt,only the absence is..The Wordsworth poem is one of those poems that simply stuck in my memory forever after reading it in those school days English textbook NCERT..along with some others..The Wandering Albatross,The Solitary Reaper,The Road Not Taken etc..Distances,separation,living by oneself made me discover facets I thought never existed..though it comes at a price..However I believe it's not a bad price to pay..and such a unique word to know..'Mizpah'..Google says Mizpah is Hebrew for "watchtower."..The watch tower and the light houses are so mesmerizing..The drowning sailor would never know how far he/she is from it..The flickering lights flicker to deceive.

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    Replies
    1. Very True, absence teaches a lot. Ah, I know and love these poems. That's how I fell in love with literature. Yes, you are right too regarding the meaning of Mizpah.

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