Resonance

Places, images and voices – these three, though not exhaustive, act as the major channels to what we know as an experience. These can be seen as information channels. They form an eclectic mix, each correlated to the others. A re-visit to a past location often plays a wonderful movie – a journey to the past. Suddenly, all the moments’ one spent at the place, the time, the atmosphere. It almost seems as if one is in a state of trance, his mind playing the director and orchestrating the amazing sights.

As it so happens, there is a mix of experiences one has at any particular place, or with any person. It so happens that the more intense or emotionally draining ones come first, and faster. Perhaps it can be because the more intense an experience is, the deeper is its footprint in our mind. Time erodes these marks away, but it can never completely remove it. I guess events like these define and evolve us as individuals.

I deluded myself into believing that I have escaped this intricate tapestry. That I could break through this powerful net, wade through the powerful current of memories. That I could delete or compartmentalize any links to a past experience and with it all the associated visuals, sounds and feelings. Especially the ones I don’t want to remember, the more depressing ones. I was proved wrong.

Today, I visited such a place. The very first minutes triggered an uncontrollable chain of actions. The locks to the compartment containing all associated experiences broke. They felt feeble. The illusion I had been nurturing vanished into thin air. Reality dawned upon me. The walls, locks, compartments, deletion, etc. they were nothing but figments of my imagination. Ones I had started to mistake for reality. And to make matter worse, I could not run away. I had no escape. Years of practice meant I could hide the nervousness, the familiar feel of gushing emotions and “weak-in-your-knees” feelings. They did not register to the outer world. But they did register a bigger impact somewhere else. It felt weird. My Achilles heel was out there in the open for any Paris to aim an arrow at. Sad but true.

I think and wonder if I would ever be able to grow out of all these mental trials and tribulations.
I wish. If only.

The song – “I am a rock – Simon and Garfunkel” springs to mind, especially the following lines.

Dont talk of love,

But Ive heard the words before;

Its sleeping in my memory.

I wont disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.

If I never loved I never would have cried.