So would you rather have every moment as an ordinary one so that your ignorance would keep you happy? Or would you have that one perfect moment and then go through the pain of knowing that nothing ever again would be able to equal it? They used to teach us in school that all good things must come to an end, I'm afraid they will one day. I hope I'll be able to live with it, when the day comes.
Just what do you do, when you are afraid of the one thing that makes you happiest. When you see the perfect moment, and you know that it is just a moment, that it would get over like all other moments. And what do you do after having seen perfection, when every other moment that follows is just not good enough, no matter how good it is. There is something wrong with the theory of relativity, because if we compare everything with the best moment, then every other moment would be the worst. It feels unfair, and it feels wrong. Because, then you become afraid of the best times, precisely because they are the best times and nothing, ever again, would be good enough.
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Tum itna kyun muskura rahe ho,
kya gam hai jisko chhupa rahe ho...
It's funny how sometimes it feels great even when nothing great happened, when you had no expectations and you got nothing in return. But it feels great, because you fought for what you wanted and then, as I would put it "Kya farak padta hai!" whether you got it or not. For the record, I fought for the one thing I really wanted, and I did not get it, not the way I wanted to. But there is a satisfaction that I would never regret this, that this would be one moment I would cherish. Maybe my smile arises to veil the sadness of my loss, or maybe, from the satisfaction of having given it all I had to give. Anyhow, I am smiling, and that is all that matters.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
- William Ernest Henley
