Eternally Ephemeral
Last week I performed an Indian classical set at
Severndoorg Castle as a part of someone’s independent project. While I went
armed with my camera, there was no one to capture from it and the organizer was
already planning to capture from her camera. As luck would have it, it ran out
of battery midway and later we discovered that the major chunk of the video
disappeared- all that remained was a 2-minute clip. It isn’t the first time I
remain without tangible output of a memory.
It’s no
big deal, my mind says.. you yourself said it wasn’t a big deal.
But Ah, my
heart argues back, I meant not a big deal
in the grand scheme of things, the way nothing actually is a big deal. But I
did want some videos and photos… after all, I’m gracious enough to take for others
and lend my camera for their occasions, so it seems unfair that…
You’re
beginning to whine, the ever-strict
mind interrupts. Why didn’t you ensure it
was captured on your camera?
It is
exhausting having to do everything on your own… I was tired and wanted to focus
on the actual moment of performing,
heart replied, still wanting to vent.
And did
you enjoy the actual moment of performing? Enquired the mind.
Yes,
and see, that’s why wanted to share it!
Well,
there you go! Performance exists in that moment, and you were in it…in fact
both of us were in it…that’s what matters! Said the mind
All
that is very well, but I wanted to share it… and they say if there is no
tangible proof and if it doesn’t exist on Facebook and other Social Media.. it
never happened! and well it did happen… and… the heart went into a cranky silence.
The mind stopped replying, while trying to understand
and rationalize…
I often obsess with the certainty of transience.
But if I actually believed it, would I be upset? Or is it because I believe that
I want to capture them, to give them a semblance of permanence? Or to preserve
it externally, so I don’t have to carry the memory in my heart forever,
constantly fearing its disappearance?
Is that why I am even writing this, to engrave
my thoughts of this moment? Is that why people have kids, or seek respect and
love or want to inspire people? So there is someone to remember them, to
preserve their memories? To create the illusion of immortality and fight the
certainty of death? Why is the notion of disappearing into void scary and sad? To
imagine the certainty that our lives and its moments could leave imprints as
deep as footprints on a sandy beach, soon to be washed away? That everything is
but eternally ephemeral?
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