‘Standing poles apart will fetch u fall in a relation, drawing close is a start towards an end’
Seasonal relations are like the changing entity. Relations are like a deep ocean in which one can lose itself only by standing on the shore. Human beings are designed to face all kind of miseries, pains but wounds that are not to be healed bestowed upon us by our dear ones. Modernism is a dilemma responsible for creating seasonal relations. Its inborn instinct of humans changing time to time.
Our relations in this modern era are creeping like a snail. Everything is not meant for forever, everybody which comes in our life is not meant to stay they have to leave for some reasons or maybe without any reason.
Psychology helps us create an understanding of a person’s habit but science fails to find out the descent of behaviors. We nourish our misunderstandings instead of clearing. These false thoughts brought up by detest and anger turns into an unbreakable concrete wall of abnegation. Stop and think for a while, who is responsible for these misleading thoughts?
I am responsible, we are responsible, we all have motives, reasons behind our so-called behaviors. Many come with reason some with season but what about those who create an unbreakable bond with them. These expectations and to judge people on the morality grounds creates discourse which later paved the way for undaunted hate.
Continuity is a rule of this universe, things change, relations change, but the wounds remain open until we move to death. Traveling through the narrow roads fill with pale leaves our feet crush them same we do with our relations we crush them for the sake of our ego.
I thought for a while what will happen if there left nobody to meet and talk whether they are friends or family members. Can we survive??? Yes for sure, human desires are extended but we can exercise control over our weaknesses. Time never stops but a house made of red bricks, guava tree, enchantment of sparrows, mist of midnight and desire to be connected with those house captures our attention.
Our forefathers have tasted the true spirit of relations by living in mud houses; they were more secure than living inside concrete walls. Houses with kitchens where the fragrance of love can be felt and inhaled. By lying on the roof counting the shining stars, waiting for those piece of bread which mother cooks first, will that time be back?? Some taste of tea which our tongue always remain familiar is precious things to forget.
Any moment which creates spell all around us those charms to meet with…. And any whisper, any smile, any tear, any laugh which comprises to our whole being. It’s a difficult task to create memories upon memories. Writing this I lost deep into the past may be this depicting my whole worth, recalling those parts I thought for a while that, was it easy for me to survive along with all these painful bitter realities??
Literally, I could not get the answer it seems like I lost my entity in finding the mysteries hidden behind seasonal peoples. My hands are empty, my relations falling away slipping like a rolling stone and I cannot do anything to hold them back in my hands. There left nothing in the end….