THE LAST BOW

THE LAST BOW
The final farewell to my dreams is going to be the toughest part of the deal that my fate made with me when it introduced me to her. My grief would flow for my eyes, but one has to move ahead in life leaving behind the rudiments of the past. The farewell would remind me of the myriad of things that could have happened, and those that could not happen. Though I had a good time thinking of her, yet I don't seem to have had enough of the lady. She seems to dominate my thoughts all round the day, all through the night, seven days a week, and all the 365 days in an year. I find in myself the plight of travelers who are drugged in dingy hotels in coastal cities like Mumbai or Chennai and carried to nearby ships to discover, once they come back to their senses, that they are out at sea and are forced to work as laborers on board to stay alive.

I'm forced to harbour her thoughts to stay alive. I simply cannot seem to have enough of her. My life seems to be filled with energy and warmth when I think of her. Thinking of her acts as a magic potion for me. I must think of her, I must dream of her, I must of my best to stay afloat in the sea of emotions. My dreams are bound to crash when she bids adieu, I know. The resurrection of m dreams for the doldrums shall not be easy, but it would have to be done. This will take some time, but I'm sure that I would feel better with the passage of time.

Time would show me that my love-story was merely another work of fiction based on a thousand true stories. My story is not different from that of the dozens of young couples I find connodling in McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or in public parks, although I did not wear my hear on my sleeve like any of them.

Only a few of hem would find eternal bliss in each other's company, most of them would have to make a compromise with their fate and time. Unlike the last lot, I'm certainly not in the mood to capitulate my fate to time. I remind myself that the problem is partly my creation. I simply cannot find avenues to tame the monster that I myself created to escape the perils of time and my existence. My dependence on my dreams has certainly eroded my ego's dominance over myself. There doesn't seem to be a way out of the mess.

The mess has brought forth the truth that the alliance between my fate and time never gave me any happiness. I've been battling against the coalition for quite some time, but the tussle has only produced scars on the surface of my heart. It is time that I bid a final farewell to all this, it is high time that I stopped thinking of her, it is time that I stopped writing on her, it is time that I moved ahead in life, it is time to say goodbye, it is time for the last bow.