Monday, April 20, 2009

Life, in a sentence.

Born into the all-encompassing singularity of the capital i, seized by space, stung by life, we wake up to obscurity and stretch across confines, feeding on dreams, gliding through ignorance, gathering selves along the way, wriggling out of childhoods into what lies next, wriggling out of what lies next into whatever else lies next, subsuming multitudes, emerging a different i only to be signified by the same i, learning to forget that we're compelled to crawl through time, we know what we know, yet we go on with the business of living, we live on, through births, through deaths, through indifferent mornings, through ecstatic evenings, through presences, through absences, through pain, through bliss, through friends, through strangers, through hate, through indifference, through love, never letting up even for a moment, weaving in, weaving out, irrepressibly at work on the fabric of time, toiling away at that one never-ending memory we know we shall never get to reflect back on, that one reality that reaffirms us that we have not been in vain, that one grand legacy we wish to bequeath to the endless universe, that one and only entity that knew how it felt to be the undeniably singular i, all for the solitary ambition of stumbling onto that one moment we live for, that crowning blaze of glory, that one period the weary sentence of life so achingly craves for, that one blinding instant the i coruscates before our eyes before vanishing into the amorphous textures of light that make up eternity.


Anonymous said...

In badulu Is ani petti chadivitey... title mundu alaney chadiva :) very well squeezed into a nutshell

Dheeraj said...

The title was initially meant to be "Life, in and as a sentence." I didn't exactly like the silver screen allusion that phrase brought to the piece so dropped it.

The 'sentence' is one of the most poetic words in the language, with its allusion to a string of words aching for a period and a simultaneous evocation of the helpless inescapability of a 'pronouncement' of guilt.

I started out to write to an ode to the sentence, and the idea of involving life came to me midway. And I thought they complemented each other pretty well, similar as they are in their destinies.

So, inspite of what the piece suggests on its first read, to me, the sentence is not a metaphor for life but it's the other way round - life is a metaphor for the sentence.

Serpentine said...

the use of one sentence to write abt life is nicely done
its strange, and beautiful
keep writing

Anonymous said...

poetic justice in true sense