Picture a couple of strangers in a gazebo, seeking shelter from mother nature's scorn and being unwittingly overheard by an unremarkable third. Take what follows as an excerpt from their conversation and nothing else, will you, dear reader?
If you ask me, the most justifiable metaphor for life would be a walk. We're all walking our own path. We wave to some of the passers by, while we smile at some. But there are a select few who make us want to stop and take in the scenery alongside them. Then we hear it. The voice at the back of our heads, screaming - 'Oi! Do you really want to do that? What if you forget your way?' And the response from most of us is to keep walking, for fear of losing our way. But there are instances when we stop and spend some time with the stranger. What that time means and what the point of such strangers is, is what this is going to be about.
There simply are too many kinds of different people out in the world. But the one thing common across us all is simple. It's what we all struggle for, claw our way towards. Something that should be the most prevalent thing but is the most elusive. You know what that is. You've bled in the trenches to win it. If you've won it is a question I won't posit since only one response is relevant in this context. So, tell me, dear comrades, how many times did you have to fight? We all know it doesn't matter how many times, because it's always a different battle, isn't it?
I will now return to the original metaphor of the walk. The first time I stopped wasn't of my own volition. Someone pulled my off course and showed me it was okay to stop and smell the flowers. That there was more to the world than running from one goal to the next. And scenery we enjoyed was absolutely beautiful! It was as if the earth mother herself dabbed into her palette and drew one to put all others to shame, for these children of hers were oh so true to themselves and pure! But it was nearly a decade ago, in a distant, now nearly non-existent world. It was the ultimate partnership, where one acknowledged and appreciated the other completely, so much so that it seemed they were linked by the threads of fate itself, ever knowing of the other from the moment they met. But then, as is the case with all interludes, it had to come to an end. As she stood up, she extended her hand and asked him to come with. She already knew his answer, but she wanted the pleasure of asking and hearing the most wonderful, fulfilling and empowering word ever - Yes.
No, he said, with such tenacity that it resounded in the world around them. She was taken aback, so much so that she turned away from him and refused to look. I am not capable of walking alongside you. I will only slow you down, or what's worse, leave us at the side, gasping for breath, as the world passes us by. I have to let you go. You really mean that, don't you? Yes. I have to, you see. For if I don't, I might lie to myself and walk with you, eventually souring the journey for the both of us. She walked away, while he just sat there, wondering why it was raining over him alone. Suddenly, the scenery didn't seem all that beautiful. He kept telling himself it was the right thing to do, but it didn't change anything about how he felt. He lost sight of the world, looking at a single scenery, and now it was not a world he recognized anymore. Which meant he had to start over again. 'You failed to be ready' he told himself, as a reminder to make himself ready for if there was a next time.
And then came the next time. Of course, this time, he was ready. But she left in the middle of their conversation with no explanation and took the compass. His fears came true. He took a brief interlude and had lost his way with no means of reclaiming it. He was stuck there for a while so he figured he'd try to crack the mystery- 'Why?' He spent a long time in the shade, hiding from the light of the world, trying to get an answer. In fact he was there till all his friends came searching and pulled him out. They showed him the route he was supposed to take and ever grateful to them, he continued walking. Stronger and wiser than ever before.
And then came what he hoped was the last time. He was fearful but took a chance, nonetheless. And once again, he was reminded of the beautiful scenery he could watch, should he take the time off to. This reminded him of how happy he wanted to be and he fearlessly embraced it. And then, it was time to get back on the journey again. So he stood up and asked her to join him. He hoped against all hope - for a Yes. She simply choose to take another direction. He got back to his journey, for it was clear now. Interludes end as abruptly as they began. Maybe, he was a fool to expect anything more from these chances he took. Maybe that's all they're slated to be - limited chance encounters with strangers.
As he walked, he started to think. The time he'd spent away from his journey, though every bit as essential as the journey itself, was beginning to now eat at him. It was a source of both great pain and happiness. He thought back to all of those times. What did they truly mean? Everyone ended the same - He was back to walking alone, more tired after the previous. But he kept walking, didn't he? Was that the point? But what about the time spent with those strangers? What did it all mean now? It didn't make sense to him anymore. All that he was left with was pain and the nagging feeling of failure. Why did the pain seem so natural now? Was it because he'd come to expect it? Or was it because he'd always known it?
He just wanted to understand why. Why, at the end of the day he always had to 'understand'. Why he always was miserable instead of happy, no matter what he did and what he chose. No matter how hard he tried, the result didn't seem to vary. And so, he started questioning the 'try'. He, who held honest effort in highest regard had now come to question the very core of his psyche. Why do I feel a chance is the most dangerous thing now, when I once fearlessly embraced it? Maybe it was because all those chances had brought naught but emptiness. Maybe because he was still searching. And walking. And walking and searching. For answers to such questions, though they should be easily available and simple, are hardly ever so. So he vowed to take one more step. Even if that was all he could take at a time. One more step. Towards a purpose he now did not recognize anymore and with a strength the quantity of which he didn't know. But he kept walking. Walking.
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