In my quiet reverie, I wonder a lot about people, I think about past relationships, those I still contact, those I outgrew. I look around the empty hall. This is life in its vivid form. Just yesterday people filled this hall, it was so full one had to tread carefully to avoid bumping into another, the noise was deafening with everyone struggling so hard to be heard.I find it hard to believe this was the same place I couldn’t wait to leave yesterday. The noise was too much. I hated it.
I remember my childhood like it was yesterday, bitter-sweet memories in my head, I see a younger version of me playing around with my cousins in my very large compound. We never could escape a full house during the holidays, distant relations from all over would come visiting. It was like a ritual and then by the end of the holiday, each persons would return to their homes. Now that I think about it, I wonder why the tradition stopped. Did we grow up too fast? Or did life came at us too fast? How did I cope with the empty house after? Have I always build a wall around me so that certain things stopped affecting me? I must have missed them when they left, I can’t seem to remember all that now.
Empty spaces, empty hearts, people keep coming and going. We are always in a hurry to leave, always on the move like our life depends on it. During the course of this journey, we take breaks for it is important we do, less we fall. On our breaks we form friendships, some deeper than others. We take up spaces in different abodes, they get used to us. In our minds, we understand we aren’t here to stay but we form bonds anyway because it’s okay to ‘live in the moment’. When it’s time to go, we pack up and leave without looking back, the journey is important and the destination is the goal. We live and leave. They are left empty
I am no saint. I have left people behind, it was important because they were no longer needed. Same way people have left me because I was no longer needed. Do I blame them? No. We are always leaving something anyway, subconsciously sometimes.
The race isn’t for the weak, they say. If I may ask, what race? Just this morning, I was with a friend analyzing childhood till Adulthood, putting spirituality into the discussion, we talked about the verse in the Holy Book about vanity. All the struggle to ‘become’ becomes vanity at the end of it all. Is it worth it then? We both came to terms with the fact that yes everything is vanity but while we are still living, we have to ‘Live’. Life in itself is very complicated.
Empty spaces, many reflections. People keep coming and going. In my quest to stay ahead, have I made lots of mistakes? Is my nonchalant attitude about relationships a bad or good thing? Should I have made them see reasons to stay? Should I have given myself many reasons not to leave?
Empty spaces, time is far gone, alone with my thoughts, I wonder, what is the essence of it all?