My Orkut Days

The memories of the time when the internet was just another toy and mail that meant posting mails to many was gone in a jiffy.

It was an epoch where time stood still and days never rolled; it was a period of impulsiveness rather than rationality; it was a place where being stalked made you smile and a hello from a stranger was reason for yet another gossip story; the word privacy meant your physical private space and your own thoughts; it was a point in time when being in touch meant meeting face to face or calling up; it was a time where we found solace in our loved ones and needed a friend’s shoulder to cry.

It was a memoir of old ways and a diary for old flames. We stalked, we talked, we laughed and we loved. We reveled in the world that was new and enchanting. It was an era where people were unaware of the beginning of a new revolution; unaware that their beautiful canvas of life of that moment could ever be revisited.  

Good bye Orkut – Thank you for all those years that could never be remade and never to be forgotten!    

End, a connotation

The word has come to mean lot of things – a conclusion, a termination, a finish line. It is connoted in the way of walking away from a relationship, sense of pride in a purpose served or a finale. Though we recognize it in the only way we know we never accepted it, not in sense it is really meant to be.

We move on when a phase comes to a close; we cry over a relationship that ceased to exist; we regret even a minor lapse to win a race that would mean nothing. As we drift through life, day and night, over months and years, we hardly think about part of our lives that made us move on, that made us cry or the race we lost.

We close off a part of us that had meant so at one point. In the objective to move ahead we fail to retrospect what made us look forward in the first place.

Every ending is a story, for it reminds us what we have; lament what we lost; and most of all it tells you there is more.

An end of a semester or a month or a day – it is something to be celebrated and to be cherished.

To Let Go or to Give up

In the dictionary form, there is not much difference between the two phrases. But when you really look at it, they aren't same at all. There are things in life that don’t work out the way we want or anyone wants. Bruises and scars, we all carry them. The echoes of the past and the song of the future, we all hear them. The lost and found, the missed and the longing, the superficial and the profound we have been one of all these at least once in our life.

There is always an element of reality in every dream, figment of imagination in every reality, a grain truth in every lie and love in hatred. There is this thin line that separates one from the other, the same ambiguous line that discerns letting go and giving up.

No one alive can fathom the real meaning let alone follow it.

It keeps you hanging in the mid air, always afraid if you are one step too late. It makes you wonder if you have given up too early or not letting go even after it’s too late...