The aftermath

I’m always looking for good quotes and this post is inspired by one that I found on twitter.

“Everyone says love hurts, but that isn’t true;
loneliness hurts, rejection hurts, losing someone hurts,
everyone gets these things confused with love”

It’s not love that hurts us, it’s the aftermath, the myriad of confusing emotions that love tends to leave in its wake is what kills us.
Love in all its various forms is made up of all those moments of innocent laughter, the private jokes and secrets shared between two people, the feeling of just being with someone in comfortable silence, caring for someone, the moments of heat and passion, the fights, the tears, the don’t-ever-let-me-go hugs and a million other things that just won’t fit into this limited space.
Love is the beautiful part. The pain comes when it ends. Loss is what causes the real grief. For whatever reason, when we lose someone we love, pain seems to envelop us. And amongst all the sadness, what hurts the most is the memory of all those moments that caused us to love in the first place. The memories of the numerous times we spent with that person: a lover, a friend, a sister, a brother, a parent, a grandparent, anyone we deeply cared about. It is these memories that continuously haunt us, that hurt and scare us the most, these memories we clutch onto with all our might and the fear that we might never have the same thing or feel the same way ever again…

Mountain of Memories

We meet new people everyday, most we pass by without even a second glance but some, in one way or the other, manage to integrate into our lives in ways we never thought possible.
I don’t know who said this or how I stumbled across it, but this quote resounds with me quite often.

“We meet people for a reason,

they are either a blessing

or a lesson”

Every single person we meet changes us, they may not always be life altering changes, but rather sometimes small ones, like adjustments in perceived opinions and attitude, an introduction to something new like a song or hairstyle, the discarding of something now obsolete in our lives, etc: the possibilities are quite endless.

While most people affect change in us that we barely ever register, there are some people who walk into our lives and end up altering us, knowingly or unknowingly for the rest of our lives. Some become our best friends, give us infinite joy, a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, some are our mirror images in a lot of ways, while others are complete opposites. We laugh with them and fight with them and they become a part of our experiences, our lives, our existence. However, with blessings we also come across lessons. There are also those who hurt us and wound us and break our hearts. Incidentally, these are the people who also teach us the most about ourselves. Unknowingly, they teach us how to weather all storms and help us discover our strengths.

Whether the people we meet are blessings or lessons, they imprint our lives and fill it with memories both good and bad until we find ourselves with our very own mountain of memories. The people who hurt us become the hurdles on our way to the top and the blessings become the helping hands. Each hurdle we face pains us and breaks us down, sometimes we get trapped in the memories, reminiscing the good times over and over and forget that this is not the end of our journey. Moving on is the hard part, but when we do, we know it to be for the better.
And when we finally do conquer our mountain of memories, standing at the very top, we realize that somehow we have become an amalgam of every single person that we met along the way, mixed with our own very special colours.

And so it begins…

I don’t know much about writing a blog, honestly I’m not even very sure about why I’m doing this in the first place. I’ve always been fond of writing. It’s always been my way of trying to figure out whatever is bothering me at that point of time. So when I came across this quote on pinterest it struck a nerve somewhere.

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway

I don’t know much about life, i’m trying to figure it out as it goes. What I do know though is that it is chaotic and messy, it changes colours and seasons, sometimes too often and sometimes not often enough. But one thing is certain, nothing is permanent.

The world is viewed very differently by each of its 7 billion occupants (yes, the world population is now 7 billion, I googled it! :P) and this blog is simply a glimpse of the world through my eyes in all its multiple seasons. I hope you like it! 🙂