God, I hate the hiatus. I know I have not been regular in these pages. I got mails from chums asking me the reason for my frondescence. There are lots of things in life one cannot explain. Many storms you cannot escape. Realities that one has to face. You try hiding from yourself and from the world that surrounds you, yet the wind blows. It traces you to the farthest you can run. It hurts you in the eye. I have been down. I have been not thinking too much. I have been not writing. I won’t label it the matter-of-course writer’s block. It was perhaps all of the above or none of it. I don’t think I can reason many things in life.
I reckon I could never grow up -- in conventional terms -- in life . I always remained a kid from within. True, it has helped me be distinct and look at the world from a detached, innocent angle. I think I am unconventional. I like cartoons; I like to make the kids laugh. I like the tender shard of an unfinished dream. Tears come to me whenever a good samartian dies in a movie. My peers must laugh at my antics. My best buddy told me on my face that I look down upon weak people and behave like an elitist. I don’t think he is right. However, I agree that he may not be entirely wrong also: I may appear so. That is because I have never cared about such intricacies in life.
Am I being stupid? Is there a little fool jumping up and down in my tummy? Questions I have asked myself. There are no answers. I think I must learn to love the fool in me, the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, laughs and cries, hurts and gets hurt. Hurt. God, that stings. I've been hurt but I'll continue to love, for that gives me courage to go on with my life. It is very difficult in reality and something in me shifts and moves even right now! I try to shut out the hurt. I seem not to!
I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.