The Possession of a Preoccupied Mind

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Hey, how you doin'?  No, I am not rewatching Friends for the zillionth time.  It's just that I hate to start traditionally.  I'm in a conflicting situation: some of my readers like my conversational tone, but apparently it isn't quite acceptable to the publication agencies. Two of my best-appreciated stories were rejected because of their tone. The rejection felt like a jolt that I could practically feel in my head, especially the second one.  Since that day, I've been caught up in a vicious loop of boredom because I stopped writing anything new.   I also called off a new transcription gig that promised me some good money, but the client was a tad bit of a scoundrel in his behaviour.  So here I am, having voluntarily stepped away from both writing and work, and somehow managing to be bored out of my mind. Pretty efficient, ain't I? I'm in that peculiar state where I don't want to do anything to kill time, yet somehow want the time to pass joyfully. I ...
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NOSTALGIA: FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE

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NOSTALGIA

by Anwesha Dash

People love the nostalgia, love to live in the nostalgia, enthralled to reminiscence at any given instances that would be enough for evoking the feeling.

I was no different. I used to spend a considerable amount of time in finding anything that would flash my glorious past in front of mine eyes.

Valued things have been discovered from that corner of the brain which is off limits any seldom can be accessible, in a fit of sheer motivation.

Now, I am greatly revulsive to that. And I, at the third decade of my life, have realised that nostalgia not just brings out the good but also all the hurts and losses that followed through the life.

Not only reminds me of that incident which was so meaningful to me but also the ones with whom I have shared those moments which were so dear to me.

In fact, it is not moment but the people who gives it meaning. The people, the milieu, the period is what I care and value.

Not a single instance of nostalgia that I have where I cherish myself alone but it is the wholeness and oneness of my past that I venerate. And I firmly believe most of you are inclined to share this thought process with me.

Now, again, in the third decade of my life, I have an animosity towards it as it becomes the source of truth that life, in fact, have changed. That time is always at flux.

Things have changed in such an unexpected manner that if, “I am given a chance to merely recreate the incident without the involvement of people who are the very core of that memory, you best believe it would be as dead as your life without those loved ones who have predeceased you”.

Not just that but now I connect every good memory with the binary of “with him/her” and “without him/her” and it brings out no happiness in me rather stirs a vague pain that is although felt ,very deeply, but can hardly be expressed or something that can hardly be understood by anyone.

Life, living in the past, cherishing it, wanting to relieve it is all dead to me. Now I only look forward. Forward in life. The next phase, the next part , the next pain , the next wound and rest assured there are many to come. Now I only look forward to finish the line and be reunited with the ones and make it an ongoing moment in place of a nostalgia, the ones that once made me love the sadist, ruthless and cruel of a concept so named “nostalgia”.

If anyone would ask me about the past,

“I don’t remember it
I don’t want to remember it
I hate to be reminded of it".

Because it is non-existential for me as now are the people who used to be in it”.

The nostalgia only exists in my memory and memory fades. And as it fades you begin to misplace the contents of the memory and as they are being misplaced the happiness tht could get extracted becomes less and less and less and less to the point where it is all drain dry.


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