Looking, Searching, Confusing

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Source: http://mostbeautifulgifs.tumblr.com/post/126834233791/jameszanoni-test0328

It’s not there. I can’t find it. It’s not coming to me and I am not able to go to it.

I read books, I devoured them actually, I read faster than I have in years. I even enjoyed the books, but it wasn’t there.

I matched my insomniac mind with my heart brimming love, and I created. I tied 127 ribbons with jute twine. I made little notes, stuck pretty paper on them and wrote things that I wanted to tell myself. I made 27 of those and I gave them all away. Some to my friends inside books, and some to complete strangers inside love letters.

I still couldn’t find it.

I tried working. There should have been enough work to keep me busy for two life times, and I worked hard, and I worked well, but it just didn’t seem like enough. With work, it never seemed like enough.

It’s not in those spaces I kept thinking it would be. I created and recreated all those spaces. It’s not there.

I visited my best friends. We sat in the balcony and watched the city glimmer from the 16th floor, and it felt good, it felt like that time when they visited while I was nursing a broken heart in 2012. They brought me a toy duck and we watched the city lights for a long while. That day always felt important, like those times when love and hate go at each other with equal gusto. Nobody wins, they just counter each other. You go to bed with just as broken a heart, but five years later that day will become nostalgia that you invoke in the name of love, in the name of friendship, in the name of a safe place and a happy place.

We took turns picking the music. I picked songs that reminded me of them, and of days when laughter came easier and sounded merrier, they picked music that made the lights look transcendent. I wasn’t really looking at the lights though. My gaze just flitted through the cityscape and landed in a place in my mind that looked like our death beds.

We were holding hands and taking our last breaths together, like the Rumbar Pirates from One Piece. It seemed befitting of a friendship so deep rooted, of a love so unfathomable, of a bond so nerve wracking and so whole.

What do you do with a love so nerve wracking and so whole?

This was good, but transient.

So I tried to find it in solitude. I made 2 cups of chai, the old fashioned way. With fresh milk and cinnamon sticks and cardamom. It smelt like heaven and was the perfect amount of karak, but it was still not enough.

I watched a movie to quite my mind, reheated leftovers and sat at a table for dinner, I opened the windows to let the air in. I washed the dishes and the counter, thoroughly, and I tied up the trash to take out the next morning. I stood under a warm shower and let the water run over me, but it ran me over. Suddenly, warm felt like hot. I needed to get out.

I got out, turned on the air conditioning and sat myself down in a cool, dry room for a chat.

What was the matter?

Why was I not able to find it?

It wasn’t in stillness and it wasn’t in the noise, it wasn’t in the love of those around and it wasn’t within.

Stop.

Stop trying so hard to avoid the thoughts, to address the thoughts. Stop looking for answers in a maze of unending questions and stop looking for peace in saturation.

Stop looking for peace in saturation.

You can’t find it. You can’t create it.

Shush, let the broken pieces fall. There is no need to wail, there is no need to turn numb.

It is what it is.

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