The Last Night of Our Lives

It was on a night in the middle of the year, plenty of seasons ago, that a wise-fool, blurted out the words, ‘Tonight is the last night of our lives’. His friends that were walking beside him thought about it. Some laughed, some nodded and some smiled in agreement. Most of them were able to comprehend the meaning of what was said, but none of them including the wise-fool could foresee the gravity of the words that were spoken on that night.

Green leaves of spring wrinkled and faded away to become crusty brown crumples of themselves in autumn. They then fell down and was just dust on the road until it was buried in the layer of white ice of winter. Spring came again and new life weaved its way out of the water that the ice melted to form. Meanwhile, pages of the calendar flew away.

If time could be called a thing, it would be a beautiful thing. It is ever flowing, only in one same direction, always making its way, without getting deterred to only one final outcome. But on its way, time affects everything that touches it, in very small, meaningless and yet beautiful ways and none can escape its touch.

And none that was in the group could escape time and eventually gave in to walk on the path that was laid before them. This path, the path of life, goes in curious fashion. Where it leads and where turns, none understand or predict. But I believe, if given indefinite amount of time, it will make sense. For the same reason, small bits and pieces of this path of life, often start making sense after one has walked on it a bit farther and can look back to see a slightly bigger picture.

Each one of the individuals in the group had started out on their own unique and diverging paths of life few years ago. Few crossed for a short time in between but most stayed apart. Until one day, with a bit of luck, all their paths converged again.

Initially, they were filled with merriment and excitement with the thought of meeting each other in one place and all of them awaited the crossing with much anticipation. The day finally came and it was true to all what they hoped for. But there was something more to it, for they could feel that it was more than just seeing and meeting each other again. They knew that there something bigger at play. They all felt it but none spoke about it. They could not ponder over this peculiarity for some time as there so much to share, so much to hear and so little time.

But there was one in this group who wanted to know about this feeling more than anyone else so he took it to the wise-fool. He barely was able to express what he wanted the fool’s insight on. But the fool was not called wise for no reason. He smiled at him and asked him to go for a walk with him again. This time, just the two of them. He told him, ‘you remember, I said many years ago that tonight is the last night of our lives’? His co-walker said he did. The wise-fool asked him to explain what he understood in his own words. The individual told him, ‘I think you meant that tonight will be the last night where we can live and enjoy to the fullest. We are going to be busier and more committed to our work and so we will never get to enjoy a night such as this again’. Then the wise fool explained it to him finally. He said, ‘What I meant at that time was, that this is the last night of our life as we live it now. This is the last night of us as we are right now. This night will never come in our life again. You can arrange for an exact same scenario with all of you, anytime in future and even then it will not be the same. Because, we will not be the same. Each one of us would have walked farther on our paths of lives and that would have made its beautiful impact on us. That night, few years ago, we left a small piece of ourselves to be in that night forever. We moved on and we kept walking. The path that we walked on, slowly and surely changed us. However, our pieces that we left in that night, have always been the way we left them. And they will continue to live that moment as we were then. This curious feeling that you can’t quite understand is the joy of finding that piece of yourself again. You can not go back in time and live that night again. But you all just found those pieces by being together in the same place. And not just yourself, but truly the person that you are. It is like seeing yourself in the mirror but seeing yourself from that night’. The individual was lost for a while in his thought and then replied, ‘But where do I find my piece? Is it on the road that we were walking on? Where do I see myself?’ The wise-fool answered, ‘In the eyes of your friends. For they see and know who you are. There is no curtain and no deception in their eyes and that is when you look in their eyes, you find the joy and peace of finding yourself again.’

The individual understood now and they both returned to the group and were happy and content in the remaining time they had. Their paths had to diverge again and so they did. They kept on walking in their own paths, making their stories and leaving their impressions on the path itself but they left a piece of themselves in that night that will always be walking together in that night and will continue to live on…

P.S. This will be my last post on this blog. I just realized why I couldn’t make myself to write another post for 2 years. Because since I left this place, I have never been the way I was here. And only the person I am here could write. This is the last chapter of ‘A tale called JUET’. And even though the name will be attached to me forever, I won’t likely be coming back. As I write this, I recall when in 2009 I wrote the first post here, and as far as this small blog goes, it is more than what I expected. Which brings me to all of you reading this. I thank you for being a part of this tale. Needless to say, without even a single one of you, this tale would never have been as beautiful.

And this one is for you.

Countless times I have given a thought to visit these pages again and share things I would never say out aloud. But for past few months, I don't know why, something was keeping me from really stepping out, squeezing time from my busy days of playing games on computer, reading books, watching silly videos, listening 80's songs, sitting in office ( and doing nothing but all these things anyways ) (last part was a joke though, I am serious about my work) ( and don't ask me why I am writing this blog in my office )...where was I? Oh yes, keeping me from logging in to this blog and do one of the really very few things that makes me happy...to write to you guys.

Always, there was this thought, 'what for?' I mean, it would surely give me a moment of happiness but then I could just say things I am saying here to myself, inside my own head. That is what introverts are like, right? They don't talk less...they just talk to themselves more than anybody else.

And to be honest, there were two reasons that made me step everything aside and come here. First was a little on the side of selfishness. This blog gives me a way to look back at myself, from time to time, and reflect in what incoherent ways the ever flowing sands of time has affected me. To read your own thoughts, dating up to 4 years old ( not that much old though ) gives you an insight about yourself and things that have changed about you, better than anyone else in the world can. Second was, this small group of web surfers who aimlessly wander the internet and somehow, somewhere between watching music videos and reading academic posts they found themselves reading through something which made them click on 'follow' and enter their names. It was and always have been you, my readers who find the end result of the strangest and the weirdest electro-chemical reactions of neurons within my head, mildly amusing.

I will take this a little forward to tell you none of us have found the fountain of youth. Which basically means, someday you are going to say these words, ' I am too old for this shit'. And my sole purpose of coming back here remains to tell you that it is not a sudden transformation. It is just a sudden realization.

Every time you put that CD of a game back into the display racks in a store, calculating...deciding on something, you get older. Every time you choose hard bound, thick, large volumes of books over colorful comic book of your favorite superhero, you get older. Every night that you come back home, tired to your limits and the only reason you find to get rest is because you have to go out again tomorrow morning, you get older. Every time when you are confused between two dresses in a try room and you settle for the one with less sparkle in it, or for the one with lesser digits on a tag, you get older. Everyday when you think about the ones you love, you care for, before thinking about yourself, you get older.

And the beauty of growing old is...there is no beauty in it. No seriously, I prefer growing older. You get wiser, which means you can just straight away rule out the ideas and suggestions of people younger (in many cases brighter) than you. You get the best argument in your favor. "Hey! I am older than you, I have seen shit that you have not". You get "responsibilities"...whatever that word means anyway. Let me tell you, this word alone is the reason behind more deaths due to heart attacks around the world than anything else. So why do I prefer being my older self? Because, watching the world or not, I will make mistakes and living with the mistakes I did will give me the best lesson to never do them again. And in time, give me the small step to ascend higher, closer to the best self I can be.

You might rise so high in your life that you no longer see the people on the ground (Absolutely no pun intended). Your vision might expand to watch hundreds, thousands, even millions of people together that you might oversee the significance of One. And that just might be your undoing. There is nothing wrong with rising higher than everybody else. It will be the fruit of your hard work and dedications which will take you there. But it is equally important, to remember that one small kid in the classroom, being punished for fighting with the other kids. And what was he fighting for? To defend his best friend from the 5 other kids without thinking the odds of his victory. To remember the child whose utmost happiness lies in as simple a thing as an ice cream. The kid who shares better part of his lunch box with the other kids, without thinking what is he getting in return. The kid who uses the conversation starter, 'can i use your eraser?'

It is important that you hold on to your roots because however higher you may go, if you fall, you will know where you will fall upon. Remember the streets on which you played, the names of your dolls and pets. There in lies more than 10 years of your life, and things, significant things which you have forgotten about yourself. Simple, yet unique, incredulous things which will help you figuring out the most complicated situations of your life.

I know, it is almost impossible to hold on to so many memories and we all are likely to forget. Therefore, it is important that you find something that will keep your memories saved for you. Picture albums only showcases the changes in your appearance. What is more useful are pictures of your mind, to capture the way you think, the way you decide, what makes you happy, what do you love. Find out which way is suitable for you. Jot it down on a paper or draw a picture, write a letter to yourself, make a video, post it on the web. Whichever way you decide, trust me, someday when you will be needing advice from the person you trust more than yourself, you will find him hidden in these letters, blogs, you will find yourself, someone who you can trust, with all the answers, who might even bring a smile to your face.