In Search of a Lost World

Before I was out of kindergarten, I had already tried falling into rabbit holes, getting inside mirrors and climbing up trees, none of which led to any different world. Before long I realized that the only thing that entered at night through my open window was cold and sore throat but never any one called Peter Pan nor any flying object that remotely resembled a fairy. I should have given up at that time but I didn't.

Before I started my high school I was sure that the charming prince that all the stories kept talking about was somewhere  out there but in a different country or place, certainly he couldn't be from the same place that I stayed in. There was nothing charming about the boys I knew. By the time I went to high school, I had no interest in the prince anymore, charming or otherwise. There were other worlds of mystery and adventure that occupied my mind. By the time I finished my high school, I was so impressed by these imaginary worlds that I wanted to make one of my own. I believed everyone has a story and I believed each one of them are worth telling. And so I took time to listen to those. A friend once accused me of being a story stealer. The thought made me a little proud and I hoped with each story I stole, I was making my own story richer and better.

I wanted to tell my story. But I never did. Not after I finished high school, not in the college, not after graduation, not while I started working, not when I joined my post graduate course and not after I finished it, not when the corporate world sucked me up for the second time and not even now. Because, I don't have a story. At least not yet or rather not anymore.

By now I have lost even the fragments of my imaginary world. I don't have the thoughts or the characters who kept my childhood alive and colorful. Nor do I remember their features or presence. In fact I have started having doubts if they ever existed. They probably didn't. It is just that up until then, I believed that they did. Now I don't. I have heard, seen and read many stories. They all are still worth telling but perhaps I was mistaken. In the course of listening so many stories, I forgot how to tell one. And so now I no more want to create a world of my own. I just want to roam about or get lost in all those other created worlds. May be, just may be then I will find some of the fragments of my world back.

And so time passes

"I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I am tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by absence?" - The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

That's the latest book I have picked up. There are a few more around. Some half read, some still not started and some on the verge of ending. They keep me company. It feels good to have books around me. Not a lot. Just a few so that I know I have something to do when I don't want to think or talk or when I can't sleep and songs are not enough. Most of the time I pick up a book and that makes everything simple. Cooking helps too but most of the time I used to be lazy. I have improved. One more task just gives me more choices on what to do to not think.

Then I pick up random hobbies. Blogging used to be a big thing once upon a time. One time I started crafts. Gifted that to someone. I started sketching. continued it for sometime but left all my books back at home so now I have to go buy them again. That will go in to my list of things to do. I picked up origami recently and used all available waste papers at home to makes all kinds of birds, flowers, butterflies. But it took too much space so I suspended a few of them above my bed and pasted the rest on the walls. If nothing else, it made my room a little more lively. Something that makes me smile every time I enter the room.  

Weekends, I meet up friends, go for a movie (rarely) or a play (latest craze) or just make a list of things to buy and go shopping. I am not much of a shopper. Not when alone unless there is something specific that I want to buy. Discs and pubs don't excite me at all so those places are not even thought of unless someone else suggests and even then most of the time I find a reason to not go. I wish I started writing again. But these  days words seem to just disappear before I can pen them down. Then again when I am trying to run away from thinking, how can I write. But I will again, soon.

"I keep myself busy. Time goes faster that way." - The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger