Words - those innocuous killers of things good and bad. Go back to the most beautiful scenery you can recall. Now, try and describe it. Kind of robs it of the whole beauty, doesn't it? What happens when a indescribable beauty is met with an expectation to word it in an indefinable space? We lose, and miserably at that.
Why is love any different? We forge bonds that outlast time and yet, sometimes they do not have a definition, they do not have a name. Bonds that seem so intricate and ethereal, that a mere whisper might break them. And sometimes, whispers do. Bonds that make you think that there is a reason to believe in a higher power, to believe in soul-mates, to believe in happiness. Bonds that are so endlessly meaningless that there seems to be a much better chance of moving a wall by pushing against it. And yet, we persist.
We press on when the end has passed us by. We press on when there is nothing to hold on to. We press on when the words, the actions, the love is of no avail. We press on till the nights merge into the days so seamlessly, they seem as one. And yet, we persist.
Words - those harmful harbingers of hope. They make you wait an extra hour even when the wait is futile. They make you see the good in people, the good that is just a blurry illusion to the rest of the world. They make you believe that no matter the outcome of yesterday or the situations of today, tomorrow will be better. They make you hope against hope that a chance exists, that the adage of every cloud having a silver lining could hold true. They make you believe in things that the practical mind and the wise soul vehemently disagree with. And yet, we persist.
We put our pictures, our memories on a wall of cobwebs held by the gossamer strands of hope. We know this, we know all of this. Soon, one memory will be too much. Soon, the wall will come down. Soon, the card house of hopes, of perceived realities and imagined possibilities will fall. Soon, the transparent dreams of tomorrow will shatter on ground realities. And yet, we persist.
Words - they are to blame.
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2 comments:
Every last optimistic cell in my body wants to disagree with you. But then, there aren't that many optimistic cells left to begin with.
We do hold onto hollow promises made of words. Words are to blame for some of the worst of our sorrows, for we hang onto the shells even when there is no meaning left.
Nice post. I only wish it werent true.
Thank you Shreya..
Nice to meet a fellow-cynic :P I agree with what you said, and what this post was trying to say.. Words are to blame for a majority of the suffering. For one, I'd wish it weren't true either but it somehow is..
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