~ Reflections ~

We spend our lives wishing and hoping... looking for the perfect person, the perfect moment.. trying to make everything perfect... Trying to make memories... Little do we realize that The moment just slipped by in trying to 'make' the memory !! Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath In that close kiss and drank her whisper'd tales. They said that Love would die when Hope was gone. And Love mourn'd long, and sorrow'd after Hope; At last she sought out Memory, and they trod The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.  ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson The Lover's Tale (1879)

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind. Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws. Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Rin...

walking around the streets wanderlust gaining miles beating the dust meeting new people gaining trust... travelling is a form of catharsis.. making me realize what I really want...

Home coming is a funny feeling.. We get used to where we are, that where we were seems new again.... never the less, every thing has a memory attached... some sweet, some bitter, and some bittersweet... Can't say I don't miss where I've come from.... but then, I've realized that I miss this too.... No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories. ~ Haruki Murakami

We drive the car in great speed... competing with others on the road... gathering dust, and hopefully just a few scratches here and there... without bothering about what we have done to others... not caring what we leave behind... But that's not the way I'd like to live life... After all, there IS only one life :)

Memories are vicious things (and I don't necessarily mean in it in the negative sense)...  They are self absorbing.. make you forget reality... almost like a quagmire... Also, they are like the items kept in a Cupboard ...  If the cupboard stays locked up for too long, the minute you open it, a million thoughts keep flowing out... and we are just left recollecting old thoughts and worries... If we kept opening the cupboard once in a while, it would be well ventilated. Also, it would be easier to weed out and forget old worries, and make space for new memories. Needless to say there won't be a flurry of clothes tumbling down.. Afterall, our head has only that much space for memories, where we pack them all :)