 |
| pic taken from here |
If books were to be written on
life, there would be never ending volumes and many a revised editions. You know
why, so don’t ask. I remember this quote ‘Travel
is the only thing you buy that makes you richer’. Indeed. You remember she
had a piggy bank she would add money to every time? That piggy bank got transformed
all of a sudden. It morphed its boundaries, contours, shape, form and most
importantly the content. There are value- able assets and lessons added to it
every single moment of her life. Seconds at times seem like eternity, like
getting dissociated from your body in that split second which gives you a high.
And as you come back in your body with the same soul that always belonged to
you, you still stay in that dis- associated moment of thrill, awe and
magnanimity.
‘ I’m magnanimous, I’m Agni, I’m
Hermes’ said a voice to him. That ball of fire resides in all of us. Many a
voices try to extinguish it. If you have never felt that extinguisher blast out
on you ever before then the voices can really bog you down. Imagine splitting yourself
in to two pieces, where one hears voices he believes in and the other part just
smirks and feels pity, for he knows that all you hear is medically termed as ‘auditory
hallucinations’.
Split Personality Disorder it was once called. Is it a disorder
really? Don’t we all experience splits of different kinds? ‘Reality’, now that
is one fantastic word, I say. Who decides what reality is? Is it static or
dynamic? Your reality, your world is any way in all the possible ways
different from mine, so who gives the authority to Clinicians to decide
what is real and unreal. Philosophical, isn’t it? Are ‘unrealistic’
or so called ‘ab- normal’ minds always crippled? Are geniuses always the ones
who are fantastically brilliant? NO! The phenomena of splitting oneself from
the reality narrate many a stories. The family, the people, the environment, in
short the psycho- social dynamics speak through it. The unspoken pain, tears,
the harassment, subjugation, whipping, throwing. It’s like a dream within a
dream. You peel one layer; other emerges, until you reach deep down only to
find there is nothing, yet every thing!
The tryst with that journey has
begun. A million travels beckon every single moment of the day……
No comments:
Post a Comment