I am a confused soul right now and write in what one would call stream of consciousness. Bear with me.
“Rain pittered pattered all around and there were these two guys sitting on the pavement enjoying their tea. A weird feeling that gave me. Did I miss my flat mate or roommate? Maybe…. ”
Yesterday night it rained like never before…in Pune at least…and I was enjoying it all alone. I had time to contemplate. I had time to think.
A happy/sad feeling courses through me as I sit writing this. My mind is a puzzled pile of thoughts- each different and befuddling as the last. And here I sit and try to sort them out!
What is it about living alone that I like so much…or hate. ..Confusing emotions the two of them always mystifying the mind! This question bugs me to death and I guess I will take the doubt with me to the grave because I remain as puzzled as ever. It’s been awhile since I have been living alone…call that a boon or whatever, is your wish…to me though it seems like a cursed boon. I have loads and loads of privacy to do whatever I wish but then on the other hand I do miss the presence of someone to talk to, chat or gossip with, for someone just to exist around in the same place as me.
But then comes the fact that living alone for the past 2 and quarter months makes you get used to the feeling of being alone and slowly loving it!
You live like a king on a double bed….you play music all night long at full volume, you dance, you cry do anything you wish without having the feeling of being conscience around that somebody sitting, eating, sleeping on the bed next to yours.
In a way I have noticed, when I sit to write I need complete peace…quiet…and silence which helps my thought process to function better and my being alone in the whole place is kind of perfect.
A little of this quietness is fine but then too much of anything is not good is it?
The mind is a superbly complex thing- when we have too much of something it begins to choke you into not wanting it and then when you don’t have much of it you pine for it. Time is one such thing.
Time moulds you into becoming a different person altogether. When coming to an empty house, one becomes a lot quieter. One tends to switch off completely; silence eats your soul from within even as noise engulfs the place around you. And this soon becomes a way of life to you.
It has become mine.
So now that I move out from this silent place of mine…
It bothers me…is the freedom I had gone for a toss?
With these thoughts I go into my new house!!! :D