Lost for Words

Sometimes one wonders if the gamut of emotions inspired by Pink Floyd can ever be categorised and described. Psychedelic music, though best suited for people in a different world, is in itself a sort of high. We played Comfortably Numb the other day, and I scarcely remember the audience or the song itself, for that matter. All I remember is the sound of my own heartbeat, lights across my field of vision and the hit of the music. It seemed surreal, unnatural, almost.

I really wish life were like that. The kind of place where one could just float away in the darkness, a sense of heady euphoria in the air, the taste of juniper on the lips and the world’s most beautiful girl by your side. But as they say, life without struggle wouldn’t be worth living. There’d be nothing left to strive for. Everything would be meaningless and empty. This way, one can look up ahead and see a goal one’s striving for. And then work towards it.

But there will and do come times in people’s lives when they stop moving forward and look back at the fabric of their lives. And then comes the realization that there are threads that have come undone, bonds that have been broken and people that have become as alien as the people still to come into one’s lives. And that is when one stops moving and thinks, is this the way it was supposed to be?

There are times it’s just inevitable. The people I knew back home, for instance, are not here with me any more. I can maintain contact with them, talk to them on call and even share my experiences with them. But it’s obvious that there are a different set of people in college with whom I share the same experiences, and once I get out of college they too will go the same way as my childhood friends. Sad, and yet patently true.

Unfortunately, there are times it just happens before it’s supposed to. When one gets so disgusted by a friend that one simply wishes to cut them out. When one loses all respect for them, when the very foundations of trust which anchor the friendship get so frayed that there remains nothing which seems salvageable. I don’t understand why friends do that. Do they change from the people you knew or did you not know them in the first place?

I guess these questions usually have very unsatisfactory answers. A friend lost is a friend lost, no matter the reason. One can just look back and try to see if it’s worth it. Was the friend worth the emotions and all you invested in him? Can you still try again? Can you look into your own eyes in the mirror and justify not talking to that friend ever again? Did he really do anything that unforgiveable?

I wrote this after realising that I’ve almost come to this level with someone I still have fond memories of as a good friend. I hope he comes out of whatever he’s going through. I might not really give a damn, but for the sake of the friendship we once had, I really hope that he finds the path he’s looking for.

A big thank you to Trishala over at “The Chashmish says…” for the post “You, Sir, I respect” which inspired these thoughts of mine.

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