The man who is an island

When I came to IIMA about four and a half years ago, I was not willing for a relationship at all. It is about four months before I leave this campus (with a degree, hopefully). Ironically, I am not willing for any marital bond again. The words 'ironically' and 'again' because in between these times that were a changin' and changin' at an amazing pace, I found 'The One'. But Life... it has a weird sense of humor. I experienced all that that inspires poetry in these few years and then I lost all that that inspires poetry in these few years....

All that what has not happened is also a part of history. All that I failed to live is also a part of my being. All that I lost is also a part of my belongings.

Sometimes, I feel suffocated. Sometimes, I feel free. Sometimes, I feel like running away. Sometimes, I feel like giving it a fight. The duality lives itself in me. I feel confused. I feel torn apart. I feel nothing. I feel everything. I feel like an island.

P.S. - One problem of reading too much literature is that everything real reminds of something fiction. While writing this post, I recalled and found this passage from my old diary-

"टाइम इज़ द ग्रेटेस्ट हीलर'। असल में समय के साथ सब कुछ ठीक ही हो गया है। हम अपनी - अपनी दुनिया में हैं। पर हम पेड़ नहीं हैं कि इस पतझड़ के बाद फिर वसंत आयेगा। बीता समय अंग-भंग की तरह है। उसकी क्षतिपूर्ति नहीं हो सकती। स्थितियों के साथ समझौता ही किया जा सकता है। अगर रहना है तो स्थितियों के मुताबिक ढलना होता है। अपनी कमी को स्वीकार करना होता है। अहं और आक्रामकता ज़िन्दगी नहीं है।

उस गोलार्ध में - पंकज बिष्ट (1992)