Threads of our old life

Frodo's haunting words keep echoing in my head, particularly so today. Or I should perhaps say it's the power of Tolkien's writing: moments, places, words and phrases that not only captivate but hit you in the moment.

How do we pick up the threads of our old life?

Do we really want to ...?

It's the eve of Easter; Holy Sat to be exact. Given life three years back this would be one of my most memorable days in the year. This year, I am sitting in front of my computer, having returned home not too long ago, and intending to carry on with my marking. It would not have occured to me, the radical change (and perhaps the 'gap') that life has taken, if Angie hadn't messaged to wish me a happy easter (what would I do without her in my life ...). 3 years back, this would be among the busiest time of my life. But today it is just another Sat.

It's not that I'm ungrateful for what I have now; if anything I am very - for the new direction in life, the new found 'purpose', the new focus ... and of course, the kids whom I adore. But beneath all this, I guess I miss the moments life before this used to be. And who would not have guessed ... that person who meant much and who formed such a large part of my life.

I just watched, yet again, the full run of the play I wrote for the SYF competition. And this time, maybe because there was a small audience, the kids brought their characters to a certain measure of life. It was then that I suddenly realised how much of myself - my own questions, uncertainties, fears, and angst - has been scripted into it. For a moment, I was taken aback. It was a whirligig of emotion - a joy in seeing my own work performed mixed with a melancholic disposition of how dark the labyrinths of my mind are. Is this how 'stepping out' of oneself and look from the outside in feels like?

But it is time to move on. And though the road ahead is uncertain therein lies the challenge and perhaps joy in other ways.