World Enough and Time
A couple of snippets caught my fancy from a poem "To his coy mistress" by Andrew Marvell:
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime...
...
The grave 's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace....
If life itself were my lover, I think that's precisely how I feel about it right now. Not five days spent at home and already a tide of restlessness has swept through me. The time I have here seems accounted for, and then some. There are so many people to meet, to talk to, to get re-acquainted with or to gain insight from, and all I will share with them this year will be a casual phone call or a frivolous cup of coffee.
Change is a constant herald for each and every experience, person, and place I encounter. I feel like I am grasping on to the tail of a kite in the grasp of a gale... being blown every which way. Too much has moved on while I stood in my static little corner of the world.
I feel a lot like I did when I wrote Whispers on the Wind... or perhaps how I felt when I wrote Age of Bittersweet. And yet this time I think I am feeling something a lot more resigned, a lot less pleasant.
And all of this enhanced by that undertone of wistfulness/ that thrill of fear of loss that now accompanies every thing I do, say, or feel (and I'm not even old or dying as yet!).
Ah, what would I do for a little more world... and a little more time...?
1 comments:
With trepadition the bachelor blogger flies home to get married?
But returns full of excitement at the promise of a new life and a new love!
He asked for a little more world and his world got just a little bigger, with a second heart with which to feel, a second pair of eyes from which to see and a second mind with which to experience and understand the world. And so many more people to meet and learn the names and idiosyncracies of!
He asked for more time. But perhaps eight months until September may be far too much than he can bear to wait!
But this time will fly like the tail of a kite in the grasp of a gale. Before we know it Hrishi mama will have been united with Kirit mami in solemn and fun filled, joyous and nerve wrecking, youthfully energetic but age old, (promises to be) sinfully naughty yet holy matrimony.
The grave's a fine and private place, but let's hope that even death does not do these lovers part.
Depite all these cliches the Nargundkar family wishes Hrishi and Kirti the best in life!
The age of bittersweet has just begun for them.
Cheers
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