Thursday, September 10

...only whisperings for eternity.

“I have to put me there”, I would tell myself.

I have seen tramps writing their names on the rocks and lovers leaving there marks on Taj. I have read love poems itched by darlings on trees and motel room walls stained with lipsticks. Urban or rural, we find such works everywhere. ‘Graffiti’... they call it. These are attempts to capture the beauty of individual’s presence in that space...all these are little acts to place themselves forever in time and space. Most end up telling a bit of their love story or scribbling their names or jotting their devotion. Some can be just sweet-nothings.
Graffiti is an old human behaviour. We see graffiti on the walls of caves millions of years old. The only difference between the modern graffiti and their older counterparts is the proclivity of the modern graffitist to add his name quickly to his work.
As a child, I too remember the same acts: On the way to school, I would hide a stone in a crevice so that it will remain there ‘as mine’ forever. In the classroom, it would be the writing table that bear the marks of my presence.

As we are creatures of time so are we creatures of space. We would not like to forget the places that have moulded us... places that have seen our secret passions and places that have shared our laughter and sorrow. As life is a short journey, it is great to spend five minutes whispering good-byes to the space and time one is leaving behind. To this living room, this bedroom, to this kitchen, to this classroom, to the office cubical or even a hotel room, “Good-bye, dear room. Remember what we accomplished together here, how we laughed and we cried and fumed. Remember me, as I will remember you.”

Pausing to say a good-bye from the heart to the living spaces and cherished times that we leave behind is a great a superior act than graffiti.
Graffiti robs away the solitude of any space. I’ll say, “No graffiti...I will only leave my whisperings for eternity.”

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