Things Fall Apart

Love the ideas; they guide you in the chaos. Love the feel of being in existence. Love the aura around you. You can love every other thing but don’t love the “things” as they fall apart. From childhood we learn that nothing lasts forever. A toy breaks into pieces, the somber solace lasts for few years, and the special care and pampering falls apart gradually with time. Whatever we come across or use daily we eventually fall in love with it. It fills a specific space in our life. The become the colors of our canvas and we become so used to them that if any of them is minus it makes us feel incomplete. It is like a child cries when his favorite toy breaks or is taken away from him, because he has grown fond of it moreover used to it. It happens with us at all stages of our life. That pinch in our stomach when we lose a key chain, a favorite pen, an old wallet and so on. Why does this all happen? I believe that it is the innate self of ours that makes us sad for the things we love. We love to keep and hold on to certain things in life, this happens with humans as well. We keep them close to us and never want them to leave us. We fear death of a loved one for this reason. We don’t want a void in our life, it’s because they occupy an empty space in our canvas of life we don’t want those colors to wash off. Same is with the material we love.

Now why do we love things so much? Do we love their existence merely because of their physical representation appeals us so much. Do we love people only because they are soothing to the sight or are there something more to it? Something or someone does not become special in our life just because we saw it and it was wow! Life is not a fantasy. We favorite certain specific things because of the memories attached to it. It is the experience of the time spent with those things or people that makes us grow fond of them. Our brain remembers certain specific events of life in relation to those objects. And we centre the game of our memories on those things. We weave a life story with the material stuff and make them a part of our lives. Sometimes intimately and sometimes superficially. It can be a cricket bat you hit the first six with, or a pen that got you an A grade. It can either be a gift from a friend or something given to you by someone as a memoir. All these things live in our mind and we begin to relate to them and the longer time we spend relating and weaving story with those things the stronger our bond grows and thus the fondness. It is like when we spend our life with someone we relate to them and they become a part of our life as the dominate over our life memoirs good and bad.

Sometimes we grow fonder of the things over the people we live with. We find peace in those things. We try to find a companion within those non living beings. Something is within those things that makes us fall for them, I call it “the living essence of nonliving”. That is we grow fond of specific things more than humans as the in one way or other give us a human feel. If not of any other individual, then that of our own self. It may be someone’s memories or either the tales of our own self that makes us stick to the objects so strongly. It may be a bicycle we used to ride, a doll we played with or a craft or painting we made. All these things include a sense of self achievement, entertainment and relief. And if these things are taken away from us a part of us goes with it and we feel incomplete. If others memory is linked with the thing than it pertains to a feeling of separation or loneliness.

But all these things that we are about are really only the things. The material-plastic paper rubber etc only. What makes them significant are only the thoughts related to them. No doubt that they provide a standing support to our memories somewhere, but without memories these things are just things. All along we love the memory or the idea related to that thing. But the thing grows over our mind. Even if the things are lost the idea still stays at the back our mind. That memory still hover the corners of our mind but the thing still does support the bulk of it.

It is never easy to let go. We are too weak to do that. We can’t forget. The same memory keeps pinching us again and again. The pinching we feel when we lose something dear to us. But over and over if everything vanishes the idea still stays within us and tries to find a new support in no time. Everything about the things comes from our thoughts and memories. So holding on to the ideas is more logical because things don’t stay forever. We should love ideas and not the things, because things fall apart!


Aiman Banday

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