How?

Agreed. Let’s leave the past and move ahead. Past is something to be left behind. But isn’t it something to learn from? To not repeat the same mistakes over and over again? Like we write down everything we spend and we scrutinize it once to be able to rectify errors and avoid bad repititions. We do that, don’t we? And true we keep that aside and never look at it again. But is it possible with the past? Each time, somehow life brings you on a full circle crossroad point. And I go like déjà vu. I’ve been here, done this, and jumped in the well with open eyes. And Lo and behold, here am I again. Now what? The brain. That’s what the brain does. It gets itself eloctrocuted, short circuited and phusssss. Full stop to the present. And back goes the time machine, rewinding and reliving every single moment. Every moment of agony, magnified. Tears double, heart cringes harder, but the brain is frozen. In the past.

I was a strong believer that anything that is constantly drilled can become a strong habit. Now I waver with this thought. I taught my brain with various ways of disciplining it, no rewinding. If really badly, then just a peek into the past. Not relive it. Not again. But guess what? My brain replied that it’s not his sole fault. The moment is the culprit.

The moment is an alarm, its a warning, it’s a reminder, that look, don’t flow away with emotions, look at what went wrong. Don’t do it again.

But do you know what? You know what brain? Do you know why I am up, 12 in the night, smashing away at the keys of my phone? Of course you do! You even know what my heart wants. I am up tonight, because I wanted something so bad years ago, that I did everything I could to get it. Later I wasn’t sure if it was worth the trouble. Again life has brought me back to a similar point.

I don’t see two roads diverging in the woods. I never did. I always saw only one road. And it was almost never trodden by. God knows at how much lengths I go to, to get what I want. Now I am here, the road ahead of me crystal clear. I can’t see the hidden trapdoors. I don’t know how deep I am going to fall, but I know I am climbing again. Climbing a very high mountain. One. More. Freaking. Time. I am not scared. The alarms are going off in my ahead. My heart is screaming, why again? Hasn’t the past taught you enough? Why can’t you just go with the flow. No heart. I am not built for that. I want it. All of it. The rains, the storms, the breeze and the springs. Forgive me Lord, but you have made me a warrior. I defeat the fears of my heart each night. And I am truly sorry heart, but buckle up, it’s gonna be a very rough ride ahead.

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Smell….

smell

PC: Google images

Before I joined facebook, I thought I was the only one. But it seems like there are a lot of people who feel the same. Smell…. A sudden waft that stills your physical self, and sucks your soul back to a moment of the past. Who said time machines do not exist? They do. But we can’t change a thing in the past. Just relive the moment. Sometimes good. Sometimes cringe-worthy.

Since my life is a little above normal, I tend to keep going back to the past and the future, sometimes at the same time. Don’t ask me how. I don’t really know.

Well, yesterday, I was cooking Daal (Indian lentil curry), and was washing clothes at the same time. The washing machine being right by my kitchen, the scents got mixed and it just threw my soul back in time. 

The dental department of KFUPM, health clinic, always saw me as a regular patient. My milk-teeth never fell. They always got loose and hung in for weeks, till I could not bear the pain and got them manually removed. (A lot like the problems in my life, which I endure to the extreme, and then push acceleration just before breaking point). Anyway. So each time that plumpy nurse took take of the aftermath of the removal of my tooth, she used to stuff a wad cotton in some fishy smelly liquid and ask me to bite it. Yuck! I hated it. But I had no choice.

There. That’s where that medley of scents took me too. Strange to be able to go back to those days. The smell that arose in my kitchen smelled the same like that wad of cotton. Weird stuff, my brain does. 

This happened just yesterday. but there have been too many instances. When people transit from one pattern of life to another, sometimes, unexpectedly, they tend to think they have erased the minute detail of the past. But no. There are so many things in the present that work with utmost gusto to transport one back to the gone by days, to that one particular fragment of the moment easily overlooked. Somehow. And then begins the unending cycle of recollecting all the memories associated with that one moment. This happens with songs too. But the power of smell is so very strong, it is like a blueprint permanently embalmed in the brain, to be excavated again, sometime down the lane of life. 

Such strangeness, I tell you, often leaves me dumbstruck. Do I want to go back and change things? No. I want to move on. And give a wispy smile to the memories.