The strings of passion...

Bonjour

Welcome to the twilight.

Just wondering why I chose this name for my blog. Twilight…The diffused light from the sky during the early evening or early morning when the sun is below the horizon and its light is refracted by the earth's atmosphere. Hand in hand goes another meaning…A period or condition of decline following growth, glory, or success. What glory, what success… what am I talking about? It’s a long story… the story of me. Perhaps the reason behind my choosing to blog.

“Things I see, things I don’t”. As a child, I always loved Asterix. But more than that, I loved Cacophonix. Still remember, at the end of every Herculean event that Obelix performed, the whole Gaul community would feast and celebrate, but Cacophonix. He would be either belled like a bat from a high tree, or cannoned into the wilderness by the mighty Obelix. He would not be allowed to play his music. The glory ends there. That’s the twilight. Its not the Gauls who have won; its Asterix and Obelix. But the glory hasn’t ended yet. He (Cacophonix) never gives up. Its still not dark. Its twilight. Because, whatever cacophony he creates, Cacophonix is still passionate about his music.

These strings of passion are the strings that have pulled me towards being in the shoes to be welcoming you all here. Its these strings of passion that have made me blog.. There would be lots of people around who would be tied by the same strings as I am. We are the twilight of the ages.

I am imagination. I see what the eyes cannot see. I hear what the ears cannot hear. I feel what the heart cannot feel. I see the web by which many of us are tied to each other, or would be tied to each other. It’s a vast network. Reminds me of Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. The same threads that connected Clarissa and Peter Walsh. They dint know each other. Hadn’t ever met. But there was something between the two. The strings of passion.

“From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere”. The world’s a hilarious place. Just turn around and you see so much of comedy happening all around you. As a kid, I thought I would be able to touch the sky only if I would be allowed to climb up the water tank on the tall building across the road. As I grew old, I started wondering if I would be able to do so. Now I know, I wont be able to. Not many think so. Ahh, how involved the world looks in its petty activities. How I feel when my boss suddenly turns up to enquire about an unfinished battle, and gives me that look as if the earth would leave its orbit and crash into some other galaxy if I dint reach office at 9:30. So much of “Masala” around, what do I do if not write about it.

Why do I write? Hmm… good question. Writing gives me freedom. More than that it gives freedom to what I write about. Its like the framing, polishing and finishing of day to day activities which otherwise don’t even qualify to catch our attention. A great piece of art is one, on every time being seen, evokes a blend of excitement, ordinariness, and a blissful feeling of being stupid enough not to understand it the last time. A new discovery every time. Out of that piece of art which might depict nothing more that a candle lit next to a flush pot. That’s the hidden beauty in the ordinary world we are all surrounded by. There is so much to be said, written about, painted, sung, and brought into reality from the abyss of the uncreated. As Michelangelo puts it “I saw an angel in the marble and carved until I set him free”.

I guess there is a lot more to be said and done. But let me not go on for ever. Will get back soon.
Till then… let the music play.


Originally posted on Monday, April 17, 2006 8:50 AM