an itinerant observer

It began with someone else’s unease. My rooh ki saheli (soul friend)  had messaged earlier that morning. She was leaving for her six-hour-away destination in interior Sindh and wrote about her travel anxiety. The restlessness before departure, the ache of transition itself. I thought about it as I packed. Why am I not anxious anymore? I, who once turned every journey into mild existential drama. That question stayed with me as we left Fujairah.  I sat in the passenger seat while my three travel companions chatted in the back. AirPods in, I drifted into my own world. HAEVN’s The Sea filled it: songs that float between melancholy and surrender. “Back in the water, I feel like myself again,” the lyrics said. A chaddi buddy , childhood friend I’d recently rediscovered, had introduced me to the playlist. It felt like a small dedication, a familiar tide returning after years apart.  The road wound along the coast, sea glinting on one side, barren hills of Sharjah on the othe...

T oday heralds beginning of an era Not of interest to meaningless minds Regardless, time’s story must be told. However, if you believe Time irrelevant, So is yesterday, today, tomorrow Thus, forget past and start afresh, That’s all you’ve got… Why assume present is from past And future you seek does not come your way. An assumption: time was, is, will be linear. If Shams’ past an interpretation, future illusion Then t ime was, is, will always be there Time eternal. **************************************************** Narcissus observes a watch Tiny cogs fitting perfectly A rotation yielding time. Time yielded - timeless With time standing still, time appears limited And yet there is so much; as much required - no more, no less. ***************************************************** Narcissus dances in head-heart, albeit intermittently When he pauses for breath, Agitation That time is limited in a sea of timelessness “What next? Where do we ...

“Tell you where I’d go. Ziahuatanejo…a little place right on the Pacific. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? They say it has no memory….”   So, the protagonist, Andy (played by Tim Robbins), tells the narrator, Red (played by Morgan Freeman), in the movie Shawshank Redemption . Although I have seen the movie countless times since it came out in the 90s, it was while I was a teenager in medical school, that it charmed me completely. Perhaps it was the concept of freedom and justice that connected with the younger socially driven individual within? Later in life, as an adult, the above conversation between Andy and Red as well as the ending of the movie remained with me. The last scene in particular was etched in my mind; where Red walks across the sand on a pristine beach along the Pacific towards his friend Andy, who is fixing a boat. For years on end I wondered how an ocean could have no memory. Fast forward to today and the reason for writing this essay: ...