Tasting All Potions Of Life

Tasting All Potions Of Life
The moon was weeping bitterly that night. Heavy drops of  tears dripped mercilessly from the sky in a continuous and monotonous dribble; there was a similar show being   staged along the contours of her face. I was being married to her friend that night. I didn’t have the stamina to bear through whatever was involved in staging a rebellion. I badly wish it was in my power to pause the downpour effected on her face, but I gave up to the dictates of my fate and destiny even before she began crying.

Practically, I gave up a long time even before the gunshot was heard without even contesting the race. The race was not a long one, it wouldn’t have taken a long time to reach the finishing-line, but I don’t think I could have touched the finishing-line before any of the other contestants. There were so many possibilities before me if I had wanted to be on her side of the wall, but none was feasible considering the passive outlook I hold to life. For me, life has not been a series of successful efforts, it has been a hurdle-race over a lot of failures that have had to be surmounted with whatever limited powers I have. I preferred not to run the race.

My outlook to life determined the turns in the road I had to take. The turn I was taking turned out to be quite a crucial turn in my life. There were a lot of trees along the turn life had placed before me; a green light filtered through the foliage and showed me the way, but the path ended in a dead-end. I had to walk on the track into a dead-end; I didn’t have an option. My parents were in touch with her friend’s parents for a  long time, and I had a vague idea of the broth being cooked, but there was very little I could do to alter the flow of events through the world I was a part of. I wish I could do something, I wish a part of my destiny was in my powers.

She too moved on. My passive outlook to life took away all hopes there were of our union. Before I realised what was happening, she too got another chance to accept love in a different and probably better form, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was an invited guest to her marriage. She had done it on purpose, I knew. She had invited me to her marriage on purpose to make me feel guilty about the divergent track I had adopted. I wish I could tell her it wasn’t in my purview.

The track diverged from the norm according to her. It was her outlook to life. It didn’t collate with my passive outlook to life. I was not in a position to adopt the path she wanted me to walk on. I had very little choice but to adopt a straight path that didn’t bend in any manner. I do wonder if there is something I could have done to prevent what happened. From my point of view, the path I adopted was a straight one, it couldn’t diverge in any manner.

Fate and destiny have left very little in my powers. Her perspective and outlook to life didn’t collate with mine. I do wonder if fate took the correct decision when it chose to push on different tracks. We held quite a different outlook to life, and we held different solutions to the same problem in our minds. What seemed to be  a solution  to her, was a beginning to further complications in life for me. I didn’t want to complicate my life any more than the intricate web it already is.

She is quite sweet and affable, but I agree when someone tells me her friend is better than her. I sometimes wonder at the expertise fate chooses our partners for us. I have to accept the superiority of my fate over all my efforts. Everything has happened as per a pre-planned script. I had a faint idea of the inscriptions on the script; this is probably why I don’t curse my fate as badly as I would have done had I not known about its plan. I have a vague idea of the end too; I wonder if my knowledge of the end crosses the borders of propriety; anyway, I can’t do anything about it.

No one is supposed to have an idea of what life is to be like for us the next moment. A faint scent of it is going to spoil the taste of the dishes to be served before us. The taste of the final dish is a closely guarded secret no one knows till one opens the lid to the final cauldron. The dishes in all other cauldrons one encounters along the way are kept in a hidden and concealed in a typical format.

There are several cauldrons for me to open and taste before I get to the final cauldron, there are several potions to be tasted before I can taste the final magic potion in the final cauldron. I hope my patience is rewarded in a way that it makes the final potion taste the best. The moon will stop wailing its loss just like she is sure to stop shedding tears in a while.

I hope I get something better than the tears she tasted in the form of the final potion I get to drink.