Monday, October 19, 2015

560, 559, 558, 557, 556

There has come a point in my life now where the ideas burn. They burn incessantly and brightly like sharp, pickled fireflies lodged in a deep, long throat. And I have met some nice people. They are sweet and tender and helpful. The plants grow and the Indian rose bush has now given four full, precious ripe flowers where we had only tiny, preening buds forever.

It feels like vapour though. It feels like I can see through all this and I find, sometimes, a light. But sometimes nothing. Sometimes a fear that is clear and beautiful and fluid - that this too will go. And when that goes, what will remain will be hard. And when that goes, I will not be taken along.

But I saw Bridge of Spies the other day and loved it. Because in the movie, there's a character that tells a story of a man who was very unremarkable. The man was a very ordinary chap who did nothing and then one day, his virtue shone when some soldiers came in and started beating up the family. The soldiers beat him too. This man fell and then got back up again. The soldiers beat him more. He stood up again. Finally, the soldiers stopped because he would get up every time. They called him 'The Standing Man'.

Maybe some days, I think that's all I can do...just stand my ground.

4 comments:

mona said...

If you do that, the standing on your ground, then you don't need to do anything else.

mukta raut said...

matlab?

mona said...

matlab yeh, ki 'Standing my ground' is no mean task. It takes lot of guts.. and IMHO, for most folks, that is more than enough.

mukta raut said...

true! I agree...