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Every now and then we are a part
Of some mistakes and blunders
Sometimes we realise them instantly
But sometimes we take some time
Before we are dawned upon by realisation

Realisation is a thorny phase
For the ones with a beating heart
It pierces us to the deepest core
And pulls everything inside out
It’s the time when we taste what we give
Hurt, agony, loneliness
We realise how we ruined things
And how things could have been better
Had in it not been for our selfish sake
And it’s then we much apologise

When we mean each and every thing we say
When our pride doesn’t come in between
When our ego rests in peace
And it’s never too late to apologise

It was last updated on 13 Feb 2012 and I am not sure in what context I had started this and why it was left in between. I came across this and while reading I could feel that I generally don’t write such genre where I have to describe a word, there has to be a feeling attached to it or a story behind it. But somehow I feel that I must continue and finish it in right direction even though I don’t know how and where but I must find it out myself while I am on it. As always I must reiterate sometimes it’s about finding out about destination while you are already on a journey.

I can think of a friend whom I had left behind once over a fight that I was fighting with myself and he had nothing to with it certainly he didn’t deserve slightest of hurt that I caused to him. I am happy that it got over soon but each and every moment of separation pierced like hell while it lasted. Those few days were the darkest and hardest I have ever lived. It was generous of him to leave it all behind and accept all apologies, because no apology can undo the wrongs. I am reminded of The Kite Runner at this moment which ironically he had taken as a gift from me. It was a similar hurt that I felt at that time.

Apologies are always about such things that hurt someone intentionally or unintentionally and when you realise it starts smothering you more than that it would have smothered them.
It’s very easy to seek forgiveness but can things be forgiven and forgotten, it must require a very kind and brave heart for it’s not an easy thing to forgive and forget.

Sometimes I feel the word sorry has lost its meaning like the word love, both are used frequently and most of the times together.

I don’t know whether I should call this a sorry feeling but sometimes there are feelings that hurt me when I think of the things and people I left behind or was left behind by them.

I have chosen paths that have brought me here, where I wanted to be but I have left behind and have been left behind by the loved ones, the ones whom I loved and the ones who loved me. I certainly am not sorry about any such choice or decision but when I look back I feel I could have taken few special people along with me. I have always found strength in being alone but I should have been there with the ones who were there with me even when I was trying to find strength alone, especially that special girl who saved me while I was drowning. Sometimes we are fighting battles and feel that we can do it all alone and will emerge victorious. We feel that we might hurt our loved ones by informing them about all the troubles that we are facing and we chose to fight it all alone and tell the stories of our victory later.

I faced one such battle which I fought alone, I had to, and I had my reasons not to tell about it to my parents or to anyone else. Because all I wanted was to make them feel proud when they heard the stories from me. Some understood what I was going through and my reasons but some felt other way round and drifted away. One thing that my life promises is that I am going to come across such battles time and again and I will make the same choice of not hurting others in my battles. But I realise I am going to leave behind the ones who love me the most and that’s the sacrifice for which  I must always be prepared and prepare my loved ones as well.

Sometimes in order to make things special you end up spoiling it all for a lifetime.
There used to be a teacher in Kota, jja sir who taught us that we must not even think badly about someone or hurt someone even in our thoughts. It pierces me when I realise that I am a cause of hurt to someone and always avoid doing it even if it hurts me. But now that I am writing this I can think about three people that friend who is still there with me and had the strength to forgive me, my family with whom I fight all the time but they understand all of it and stay by my side and something that got spoiled because I was striving to make it special.

There are a lot of things that are coming to my mind, the little things like moving away from a helpless beggar without helping him, troubling some old teachers in school, not saying Love you often to the loved ones, not staying in touch even though I miss them all the time and many more but the most prominent feeling that is associated with apology or a second chance is written below

Imagine yourself to be an aspiring mountaineer. Throughout your life you have grown up watching pictures of mountains, echoes of mountains is what you have aspired to be surrounded by. Finally you get that chance to be on that journey towards those mountains. You tell it to all your loved ones about it and they are happy for you because they know that that is what you have always wanted to be. You leave them behind and learn how to reach on the top of a mountain that calls you all the time, you climb you fall; you get up and climb again without looking back. You conquer every fear, every fall, every battle, and all the odds that were against you. You finally reach the top and look around and shout in excitement with your arms wide open. You are now ready to tell all the stories of your conquer to the ones who were always there in your thoughts and were your strength when you were about to give up but you realise that special loved one has moved on, moved ahead, and moved away. What are you going to do? How are you going to feel when you climb down and not able to find that friend around? How would you feel when you are not able to share the story with the one for whom it was written?


This post first appeared on JourneY Is MY DestinY, please read the originial post: here

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