On my way back from Bangalore, got down from the train at Mysore railway station. Standing there in the brightly lit station, memories started floating around me. All those intangible memories of my years in Mysore suddenly became tangible; things I could touch, feel and hold in my hand, looking at them with a new perspective.
Standing there with memories whirling around me, a lot of complexities of my earlier association with the city started unraveling. Guess it happens to others too, that as years pass by, they understand things in clearer ways than before, feel them differently and finally learn to let go of nostalgias.
'Caught in a strange land in a net with other butterflies, I'm a caterpillar yet undecided to remain a caterpillar and perish or turn into a beautiful butterfly and live a life full of joy.' Readers don't laugh. But I came up with this one night recently when I was travelling in a train. I tossed and turned, not being able to sleep, upset over unexplainable things and frustrated over events not in my control. Then it occurred to me that our life and its usefulness depends on our decisions -- whether to remain a crawling caterpillar whose existence otherwise is either ignored by all and sundry or who is cursed for just being there and thrown out with a stick, or to develop wings of life and metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly whom everybody adores for its beauty and colour, for its flitting liveliness, for its service to the flower's pollination... I thought that I should be a butterfly, of service to others, but then again I thought, anyway, who really cares?
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