Wednesday, December 23, 2009

a drumbeat signals the end

Some people say that soul mates are arranged in heaven, separated on earth, and evolve over time to discover each other again at some stage in their lives. So, they conquer the trials set before them and emerge to be replenished by the lessons learned, and are duly rewarded by the advent of 'the soulmate'. I find the story somewhat biased for a whole number of reasons. From an analysts point of view, it turns out to be a shaky hypothesis, and leaves out a whole bunch if variables; time of marriage, propensity of someone in New Zealand to ever make it out to Mount Kilimanjaro and Budapest and Vancouver in their lifetime to meet potentially, 'the one'. And various stages of life growth, and how that might be measured. So,needless to say, the vastness is not at all taken into account.

As a spiritual being, I am somewhat stymied. Fate decides. Gods will prevails, to make lesser sense to mere mortals until in retrospect, that Eureka moment might be dispensed to us, now thirsty for some reprieve from the discontent, or the numbing acceptance.

Even then, some of it makes sense. And sometimes, it really doesn't.
We continue to grasp for clues.

I am all for feeling blessed at the ability to dodge a bullet or two.
But the lesson for waking up from a dream to find myself standing on a battlefield is lost on me. Life does tend to have a drier sense of humour on some days.

The silence engulfs me. Darkness doesn't console as it should. I'm searching for sunshine, thirsting for it even.
Every step forward feels like an uphill drag. Standing still, the ground caves in.
But even the ground won't take me like this.

What else is there?

Another year. Yet another goodbye.
Repetition resonates.
A steady drumbeat signals the end.

3 comments:

Saaleha Bamjee-Mayet said...

But you will prevail.

shafinaaz said...

life is prevalent? sounds epidemic :P
thanks saal...

charouchick said...

sweets, i can hear the ambivalence, in your words, but know that even in despair, and standing poised on the proverbial battlefield, we have two choices... either retreat or surge forth (with sword or pen, held aloft : ). I reckon you're not the retreating type !