Life ahead is for memories, Life ahead is for reminiscing the precious emotions that touched my soul a long time ago- emotions that I shall perhaps never again feel in the real world.
How naive I was! I used to believe that I would get to witness all around me the world that I had read about in books. Books and movies treated me to the spectrum of sublime emotions that characterize human life and make it meaningful. It was with a jolt that I realized that they were inspired not by the 99 per cent of the world we see, but by the one per cent that stood out- that held on to its inherent beauty.
Emotionally, man is the only creature I have given up on. Intellectually, it is still inspiring to share thoughts and ideas. But emotionally, I have given up my garb and I only don the garb of a writer now- one who feels the throbbing of every soul in this universe, the throbbing merging into and echoing the throbbing of his own soul.
There are no attachments in the real world. Like a twig floating on a river, I am happy being carried by the river to wherever it wishes to deposit me. I have no expectations of people, for they are what they are. I am happy to recoil into an inconspicuous corner where I do not come in the way of any passing soul.
Like a butterfly, oblivious to the beauty of my own soul, I long to bask in the beauty of the world I see. I long to fly and flutter, sampling every bit of my world. In my eyes, I long to carry the beauty of the world I see.
To me, dusk is the most overpowering phenomenon in this world. Every dusk leaves behind a lasting impression on my mind- the changing colors of the sky, the setting sun, the last birds on their way home, the last flutter of wings, the last signs of the receding day. The evening star appears in the sky and the curtains of darkness descend. Yet another dusk is added to the album of my memories on earth.
Every dusk speaks to me powerfully. It is a time when I can gaze up at the evening star and perceive an ocean of sorrow within my heart. If I ask myself what that sorrow is, I have no answer. For it is the collective sorrow of the past, the collective sorrow of all the bleeding lives I have encountered in this journey of life. A deep, diffuse sorrow, mixed with the awareness that it can never heal. But then, it is this failure to heal that makes every little joy immensely valuable and beautiful. It is from these broken places within my heart that I write. It is these broken places that help me belong to that one per cent who hold on to the inherent beauty of their souls.
It's all in the Mind. 
Nice blog
This was like straight from the heart.I loved the purity and simplicity with which you put in the words.and how beautifully you described the sorrow in the second last paragraph.Love for dusk by someone i have read for the first time.Keep connecting,believing and perceiving!take care