Pedestal

This world is like a highway. Scurrying at top speed to reach somewhere. Most people don't even know where they are headed.

It's heady, dizzying, manic. I sometimes take a break.

Put myself above it all.

Observe the world going by like an observer. Like I don't belong.

Detach.

Look. Don't react.

Fleeting moments, people, conversations will spark memories. Memories, come and go. Pull the Heart down. But the Soul remains unaffected. It just is.

Sometimes, grief reaches a point beyond return. It spirals downwards into an abyss of remembering. Memory lane is not all it is touted to be. It opens wounds and pain gushes out in torrents.

This human existence, though thought to be a passing thought in the greater Universe, is a painful existence. We are ruled by emotions. Emotions are temperamental creatures. Taming them is all we do, all our life, and thus exist.

Music is the best remedy. Nature created music. Humans made it evolve into soul stirring sound bites. It brings back half forgotten incidents and people. It makes you smile, cry, laugh, dance and groove.

Music heals open wounds.

Music helps in going on the pedestal and standing there. Observing myself, my surroundings, people, randomness.

There was a time when I wanted my life to  be filled with adventures and excitement. When Life really happened I realised the worth of the Mundane.

Aren't we all the same?

We go about our daily routine, never second guessing the ingrained habits. Only when we are challenged to move out of this comfort zone, we all become "doubting thomases".

We crave freedom from our shackles when we are going about the expected rigmarole. We don't even realise that our reality has already become our cocoon. When we break out of this cocoon and our ideal life smiles down and greets us, we are scared.

We scurry back trying to get back into the cocoon. It is already broken. We try to build another cocoon. We try to stay hidden. We want to actually remain ambiguous, mundane and mediocre.

Why else, are we always running away from our fantasies? Why are we so scared that they will come true?

Is it because these dreams are our only escape from reality? If they truly come true, we won't have anything to escape from? What are we escaping from anyway? Why are we always trying to run away?

Why are we always running, actually? Where are we going?

Have you ever thought about it?