I remember, not that I can resist the onslaught of memories, a time when life was different. I lived this episode of my life, for 13 odd years, so vastly different from now.
Memories, clashing upon each other, bringing about an explosion of joy and the whirlwind of pain. “Once a upon a time” as nowadays I would say with a basking smile, yet some tingling sensation of sadness and sorrow does exist.
One cannot erase these memories, nor would I want them gone from my mind. Never.
I’m still in a state of mourning, not because tradition demands it of me but rather I am still struggling through life and the loss. At times I replace the loss with a blistering all-consuming rage, and others I merely let them sink into the Vaults of the Void.
Loss, such addictive feeling, allows me time. Amusing is it not, that for me to have the “time” I am required to experience loss. Maybe an irony to my life.
I choose to be in this state, I choose to feel the sadness, the memories and the misery. I shall not blame anyone, living or dead.
But then usually words appear in my thoughts, branding itself on my soul, and sometimes giving me the inspiration to move on. I will always remember such words:
“Tomorrow is tomorrow, today is mine”
Zashnain
An avid blogger, twitterer and photojournalist, Zashnain Zainal suffers from an incurable addiction to social work, helping marginalised communities since 1989. Nowadays he travels from the plantations of Malaysia to the slums of Thailand. He can be found at zashnain.com and @bedlamfury
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