A Hitchhiker’s Guide to Move Forward in Life
That one inevitable wuthering stormy detour that changes life as we know it.
“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” – Haruki Murakami
Through the prosaic drab windowsill liberating the limitless infinite, we had gazed up at the adorning mysterious enchantment of the swirling sapphire skies. As exhausted passengers of this esoteric life, we had looked up, in dark times, at the empathetic comfort of the persistent aquatic skies whose relentless freedom had sparked adamant inspiration. With that lively memory tightly clasped, through the serene stretch of the rare tranquillity of life, we had boldly looked up at the daunting proud skies as a dear old friend as under our facile ignorance, evasive life was conquered. That superficial mirage of consoling stability had then suddenly faded away through the first jarring strokes of thunderous lightning. Through the hostile greeting of the battering gales and the unforgiving darkness of the betraying skies, the first tears of the tragic rain marked the grim ending of the suspenseful calm before the storm.
As helplessly incompetent pilgrims of unresolved life, we could do nothing but gape hopelessly as that impatient yet, trusted road of forlorn existence became the victim of the storm, as those timeless frozen bonds of heartfelt emotions tamed this tiny lane which had become home, all swept away in the sheer wrath of treacherous life. Yet knowing how way leads on to way, we take that much dreaded yet, inevitable first tentative step towards tomorrow, severing such inane juvenile luxuries like afflicting fear and vicious doubt, we head straight towards the dead centre of the brewing tempest. With the ruthless frustration of the inane losses of cherished memories quickly forgotten in hostile torrents of the vengeful rain, we take that final stance against victorious life to end this absurd bloodbath for once and for all.
This initial blind rage for sole revenge is often accompanied by a startling shock as the ferocious pounding of the howling winds is replaced by an eerie ominous hush as you step into the eye of the storm. With a shaky breath of this unanticipated terror, we gaze transfixed at the malefic fury of the unforgiving tempest, swirling mystically with fading silhouettes of a glorious past. There was that distant warmth of a breezy Spring’s day when life was simpler with just incessant hysteric tantrums, there was that first audacious adrenaline surge as we learnt to walk, a lot of firsts and lasts. Overcome with a melodramatic nostalgia, we instinctively know the costly fare of deceiving life to continue this ludicrous journey; the inescapable sacrifice of the restraining past to move forward.
When the oppressive roars of the fierce lightning die down, when the merciless battering of the hollering winds decay off, we walk off the other side embraced by the light tragic rain as a soothing consolation under an unrelenting optimistic scarlet dusk as we, with that notorious stare, gaze up at the gleaming azure skies; battered and bruised yet, still fervently raging on with unfaltering gallant hope. As we realize that the skies had never betrayed us, they changed us forever…