Something New...

There is always some something, or some someone with which(who) you run along in a perfectly parallel frequency, almost in unison. You give a lot and take back, just the joy of giving. Some humans find verbal give/take-back, their primary mode of communication and as for the fewer rest, visible words as in writing, seems far more ethereal and has a stronger impact. It's much less evasive and within their comfort zone. I belong here!

On a deeper insight, I analyzed that I don't write every event of the day with the minutest details. In fact, I have never owned a journal, just the fear of being read, overcame my desire to document my life so far. Just those few trivial moments reflecting on materialistic joy and unrealistic poetry occur in some pages of a notebook. These few words had more of exaggerated romance-spun-up tales that was not in much agreement with reality. It was not a case of 'never', but just 'rare'. Also to remind myself, there was never-and let me ascertain its credibility..NEVER,not once-a living human in whatever I wrote. Simply put-I never wrote about anybody! None-I felt-deserved the worth to be written about. I wasn't ready to fool myself by writing false emotions. There was also this disturbing theory, I held, which was:nothing could ever be written without false poetry. The truth should have an essential coat of fabrication-which thereby nullifies the very quality of 'truth'.

So I chose to not document my life.

 But, fate it seems had other plans. It made some sort of a deal with the strike of 2011!

Someone was destined to make an entry into my life to bring about a change. And here I am, sitting beside my very own journal-a nondescript physique, its contents-plain and having a strict adherence to truth, devoid of synthesized poetry. And it keeps growing daily...

For once in my life, I feel totally content and satisfied. These pages I keep creating, stand a true evidence of all that there ever was and all that we are yet to visit, in the lone lane of memories...