Of Silences and Transitions

Dear Tryphena

Hope this letter meets you in the best of your health and spirits.
May this letter also bring you a smile and a reason to look forward to living in a new city.

Silences can wound as surely as a twisting lash – Shantaram

I do not know how you have embraced and probably relished silence all this while. For me it has been both a boon and a curse.
Some of us are like you. We feel alone even in a crowd. In the brief time I have known you, I found you to be a rather reticent and pensive person. Silence, as you write, defined you then.

Firstly, congrats on your new job and transition.  College is like a honeymoon, a colorful trailer of life. The story and the genre changes vividly soon after college ends. College would’ve been a great new platform to meet new people, learn stuff and socialize but in terms of life’s vicious lessons, you managed only a few chapters of the hardbound. So the road ahead may be a terribly bad, but definitely the most memorable. Branching out of your mother’s nest probably would teach you wonders that no book can describe. This phase is what they call molding the clay in pottery.

We had the opportunity to taste the sweet sour concoction of independent life when we joined the university. To be frank, I learnt about myself only because of this move. Cursing myself initially for this choice , ironically in every conversation about college, I assert that it has been my best decision. It had offered us freedom and learning and I have taken more than what it had offered.

Starting out an independent life is, prima facie, a  dreamy affair. We too have imagined white thick beds, fairy lights, favourite books in hardbound, unending supply of coffee, doodles on the desks and paintings on the wall. Finally, you end up compromising every single thing in the list above for a dingy room in the corner and a six hour disturbed sleep. One thing I have learnt is you can never sleep as relaxed as you do under your parents roof.

Transitions are your most accurate mirrors. A friend of mine, incidentally named Mithra, convinced me that transitions were as beautiful as a stroll in the wet grass on a cold morning. That’s probably when you understand yourself best, in midst of those tough decisions, those melancholic partings and the anxiety of things to come. Your actions in this situation displays your true grit.

For many like me, gladly,transitions have become quite a recurring phenomenon. So much that we regard moving out as a weekday job and we never unpack our suitcases.

When those silences taunt you, write or explore. As you rightly say, we get busy travelling to kill those bouts of loneliness. We also learn to enjoy these new experiences though. One is able to appreciate the enormity,beauty and variety of art and culture only by travelling.

Take this opportunity to explore every bit of Coimbatore and places around. Try to develop something new every month (even a new friendship counts). Read and create new blogs. Write letters to all your friends and read their lovely replies( this alone keeps you going for days) , learn a new language. The possibilities are endless. Just take the leap of faith.

Start a new story uncluttered and unbound by those previous threads.
Life is a culmination of rude changes and unpredictable reversals. Get inured to this change.

Keep writing

Yours sincerely
Viché

 

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