They Exist

They Exist

Anonymous | Jun 25, 2018

  • 1

They Exist.

I don’t speak for the all-knowing universe, life and transience. I speak for myself and only with regard to what my understanding can fathom. My words won’t reverberate or echo or make a giant noise. It will be dim, faint and maybe catch someone else’s (like me) attention. Even if it doesn’t I don’t mind it dying down along the way. It doesn’t matter. After all, I am not sure what do I know of it anyway.

To begin with the fact that my life existed and will not exist and the transitory-ness etc. etc. has little to do with it. It is not dark but hopeful. I love the people I have met in my life and the amazing life has many fun-filled events. We all have memories, memories are who we are, they define us, shape us every second whether consciously or unconsciously. Memories are amazing and one thing is for sure that they will exist harmoniously even after ages of unintentional musings. A mere 70-80 years isn’t an era but for a person, it is so much more. It is more than any single book can encompass. An autobiography can only do so much justice.
But every person’s life is beyond the pages. An autobiography or a biography is a mere highlight of the most significant memories. But the ones which couldn’t be recollected or found still exist. They exist in their most significant forms i.e as a part of us. A sombre, humble and quiet part of us.
There was an institute I went to. A lifetime of memories and I never thought I could do any justice to it by writing a piece on it. Every moment unique and every moment was forgotten because we were living it then. Little did we know that these simple events would shape us in a big, big way. We would scratch our heads may be on a simple rainy day we would romanticize our way into our catacombs of idle reveries. So impertinent time has been. We have lost it but it always leaps at the very chance of reclaiming it. Not everything can be known as a human would say, not everything can be remembered also. But the very fact that years later
when we turn back to cherish the salvaged remains, show us that some of them were not just moments. They were a lifetime in itself. Some memories take us away from the strangeness to those familiarities which were a revelation in itself. Many of the ones I know have walked the same roads to the classes of our college. Some of us have loved and lost and some have loved and won. Friends,
teachers and comrades were formed. Brotherhood forged with the most unlikely of persons and pledges of staying connected with each other. Everyone special and everyone in regard. Some of us believe that it was our destiny and some believe it was just meant to happen but for most, it just happened, no prefix or suffix. It just happened. We attached ourselves to the people unknowingly
through an undefinable language and loved the way life happened for us despite some unwanted tragedies and happenings. But I for one believe, we also have attached to those unspeakable objects that we loved secretly. For some, it might be a room, for some a tree, a road, a deserted alley, a restricted gateway, a simple crowd, a staircase and maybe, maybe even a Professor! I can’t keep count of all those for everyone else. There were many such undescribed objects, feelings, emotions, desires, events and ideas that remained and will remain despite being forgotten over time. They will exist and someday out of nowhere and for no reason at all they will crop up. Crop up in a weird manner that might make you feel sick. Stir something inside you. You might not be able to explain it
to others but they will help you snap out of everything. It will be calming, painful, stinging but most of all satisfying. A satisfaction not found even when you gulp down your favourite food. A satisfaction perhaps of the knowledge that we have lived that feeling. Of having the knowledge that it existed and it continued to exist and having the faith it will continue to exist even after everything else turns to ash, to dust.
We in our ephemeral capacity cannot fathom the end of the world or the universe. Some might have an idea, but I am not even slightly inclined to those predisposed ideas of ice and fire. I can only speak of the things about which I know existed and some which ended. My school ended years ago, my college ending is still fresh and green. It comes up time to time. It’s not my entire life, but it
definitely was a glaring, bright highlight. I am sure even my friends would agree to this. We all have carved our share of memories from it and when we said goodbyes it didn’t flash in front of our eyes. But in some way, it stayed along, the nostalgia crept along, the feeling amplified by our future hopes was not that remembered. But it stayed and it exists even to this day. Someday, when we start
another highlight of our life this will be forgotten. But there is that satisfaction that life along with everything else gives us. It allows us to go back to them again and again.

Because they exist.

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