Can so relate to this article on the curse of compressing reality. After a major event passes in life, the details of the hours and the days that were part of it are compressed into smaller packages to be archived. The highs and the lows get adjusted toward the middle so that the big event is just another random thing that happened to you. A few years go by and you are left grasping at washed out images, their sequence (and meaning) long destroyed.
Some days I am just grateful for the minutes that I remember in full color detail. What the weather was like that day, the smell of the air, the feeling of well being and then the event itself. Not all of it but the moments that stood out and stayed etched in memory
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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Finding Passion
I have long believed that the advice about finding your passion (and the rest will magically follow) is too simplistic and does not work for...
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An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no ma...
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Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that suc...
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Published in Serenelight Shiv is fond of saying that he is left where magic realism meets Haiku and remembers having mentioned this to Joie...
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