Of New Adventures and Tragedies

There are several things you leave behind when you start somewhere new. Some, you really want to forget, like tarnished memories, spaces that smell of disgust, parts of your soul which then broke away from you and now are trampled by strangers, without them knowing, how much it hurts, even if you're in a completely different part of the country, hell maybe even the world. 

Then there are things you want to grasp with everything in your being until your fingertips go red and your knuckles surround themselves with blue-black indents of urgency. People who want to help you, that book whose pages remind you of a life before pain, and almost anything not stained with despair, including the selective memories attached to everything that breaks you now, but made you whole then. 

My new journey begins in a place called Amravati, which is so far away from anything I've ever known that it almost made me feel like cutting away from civilization would sever my connections with whatever I've faced within it, enough for me to gain perspective, start anew. A small town in Maharashtra is to be my new home for the next year. But the questions in my head start arising. Is it enough? Would this town, with its dim-lit stores and undisturbed jungles grant me my escape? In this run, granting new people access to my life, keeping in touch with the few old ones who decided to stick through the darker times. I am wide awake, to the possible changes that this place would bring, the challenges, the introduction towards the unknown, yet again. It's been so long since I've trusted anything completely. When they say, that life stops for no one, they aren't kidding, are they? Do we become better people, achieve more in our capability of keeping up? Of not falling behind even though our mental stability is perhaps compromised? I guess we find everything but answers, as problems pop up like landmines in open, innocent fields. I wonder if beyond it, happiness, described in the most illustrative of poems and the most wondrous of literature, actually exists. The utopia behind the unreachable horizon.

There isn't much to say about my life in this place, other than the fact that I love the essence of my space, it creates my own bubble within the unknown. And like all others, this too shall bring its own bag of memories and snippets of conversations, corners of darkness I can call my own. It's been a while since I've written much of anything, but I can only ask for forgiveness on that part. It seems that life holds a different pace than mine.

P.S- This is my first post from Amravati, and there are hopefully more to come, as there is lots to discover about small cities and its eccentricities. All I hope for is you guys stick with me through it.


Goodbye....my diversely placed humans.