यथा काष्ठं च काष्ठं च समेयातां महोदधौ| समेत्य च व्यपेयातां तद्वत् भूतसमागम:||
We are just driftwood on the capricious waves of life. We stumble upon people and things only to be separated from them in time. Wonder if driftwood ever fights for free will with the ocean!
To come from an environment that never changed – friends, classmates, neighbours, grocers, rickshaw drivers, domestic helpers – to an expat environment that has been strikingly fickle hasn’t been easy. People come and go. Families get together and bond, and suddenly it is time to part.
As hard as it may seem at times, it dawns upon us slowly but surely that people come for a season, and they go away for a reason. With so much of media that is “social” nowadays, staying in touch is pretty easy. A “Happy Birthday” and a “Happy Anniversary” once or twice a year through texts or gifs or emojis is all it takes to call someone a good friend and reminisce about the times together. But was this what nature intended when it carefully helped us set sail on the unpredictable waves of life? Or did it want us to find something deeper than the electronic connections that we hold on to today?
Does driftwood meet for a reason; or is it just chance? It could be serendipity, or misfortune’s evil dance!
How much should one hold on to once the wave has passed, And make one’s heart heavy with the memories amassed?
Why do we "cling" to the past hanging onto bits and bytes, Christening twists of fate with titles so trite?
Instead, could we “store” the past just as bits and bytes, Unattached explorers travelling light?
Could we be driftwood, dead and cold? Or live fully, ferrying the new and the old?
The answer reveals itself as I mull, A wooden ferry with a robust hull.
Holding steady as sailors embark Bidding goodbye gaily, making a mark, As stoic and wiser as one could Riding the next wave, awaiting new driftwood!