Black holes and revelations

Even though it’s nice to come back to a roommate who yells a loud ‘Hi!’ even before you’re inside the room, and one who threatens to throw you out of the room if you don’t get some fresh air when you’re down, it does feel good to have the room all to yourself for a week. You can wear whatever you want to (if at all), you can fling your mess around the room for a change, you can listen to whatever you want to and at whatever volume, you can cry, and you can trash someone on the phone. You get the picture. It just feels very, liberating, ‘sall I’m saying, even though it gets lonely after a point.

I just finished a Photography assignment. Clicked a few macro shots. Flowers, bees, butterflies, stones, whatever I could find. I love butterflies, they’re beautiful. And they do not fly away when you go close to them. Also explored my voyeuristic side as I snapped pictures of them making babies. Dragonflies, on the other hand, are tricky little paranoid creatures. But I love how their wings glisten and sparkle in the sunlight. It’s brilliant. Sharing some of the pictures here :)

(Butterfly, fluttered by)

(Sunlight dipped petals)

(Glittering wings)

(Yellow)

(Spiraling down)

(Love is in the air, and on the wall)

(Ribbit)

Mark Knopfler’s voice is caressing my ears, and calming me down. His voice is like chocolate, which is also what I’m eating. I really like it when sunlight permeates through the pink drapes into the room. Today was our last day of classes. The official last day of Journalism and Audio Visual students together. Ten days before the final exams begin. We had night photography classes where we captured light trails, and where we sang songs and rejoiced the ending of the first phase of a wonderful journey at SIMC. The wind echoed with the soft acoustic strums of the guitar and our voices trailed far into oblivion. The first semester is already over. One and a half years later, I’ll be writing a similar blog post about the end of the course, and the end of my stint here at Lavale.

The last two months have been the most beautiful and the most unexpected and unusual months of my life. I didn’t even come to know when the rain gave way to the lush green plants, the trickling waterfalls, the rainbows, the colourful flowers, the slithering snakes and the peacocks. When the fog took over the sunlight, when the breeze got colder, when the moon became bigger, when the sunsets became even more heavenly, when the friends who I hardly talked to became my best friends, and when my feelings transformed. It is funny really, how sometimes you don’t have a control over how you feel. You try to cling on to what is right, quite like Jim Carrey trying to grab hold of the memories of Clementine washing away from his conscience in The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. And you fight, and you deny and you hurt yourself and despite it all, you feel yourself slipping and sliding down. As Leo Tolstoy said, “Is it really possible to tell someone else what one feels?”

You look at the sunset, you feel the breeze against your face, you walk on moonlit drenched roads, and watch the clouds glide past the silvery shiny orb, and your eyes water with ease, and you feel like you can laugh and cry at the same time. Sometimes feelings can be so illogical; heck they are mostly always illogical, and no matter how much you try you can’t prevent yourself from crashing deep into the infinite abyss of treacherous emotions. Sigh.

Sometimes it feels like a dream, or like life is playing a silly joke with me. And sometimes, I don’t mind it. Not at all. It is really hell inside my head sometimes. Do I like to sabotage my own happiness? Do I revel in being miserable? To add a dramatic tragedy in everything I do? I wish the wind would carry my feelings away, far far away into the valley, or the rain would wash away my confusion. I don’t like it. Not even one bit. And sometimes I do, and I want to be entrenched into this sweet sticky painful sickening feeling. 

I’m listening to Dream of a Drowned Submariner and thinking of a close friend who very conveniently is chilling at home and happily rubbing it in. The Heartbreaker misses you.

“From down in the vault, down in the grave

Reaching up to the light on the waves,

She did run to him over the grass,

She fell in his arms and he caught her

So went the dream of the drowned submariner

Far away on the water,

Far away on the water.”