The Lure
©By Vijaya Sundaram
May 18th, 2013
How simple it is to abandon all! How attractive an option! Drop one’s bags, walk away, never look back, never return — this image has always haunted me.
The lure of the unknown, and the seduction of a future without any strings, without any knowledge of anyone new one would meet, without any expectations beyond what tomorrow would bring, whispers in my blood — and I want to follow that Sirenic voice.
This must be what makes a few people turn to into vagabonds and gypsies.
I’ll never be one, alas. I like my security too much, and am too attached to my loved ones.
That, however, does not stop me from dreaming. I dream of not being afraid. I dream of walking, walking, with a stick holding a bundle over my shoulder, a guitar slung over my back (strings attached), a flute tucked into a waistband (one needs some air to breathe music into), a bottle to hold water, and a bowl to eat and drink from, one big book (Oscar Wilde’s complete works? Shakespeare?), pens and note-paper, hairbrush and toothbrush in a shoulder-bag, walking towards a hill, because, surely, there must be another town I’ve never seen beyond that hill.
But wait … even those few things I’d be carrying would be things I’ll be needing. Ah well, one must make a few concessions to being human!
Death always awaits, however. Perhaps, there I’ll find what I seek.
The unknown always awaits, looking over its shoulder, half-turned to face me, an arm raised, one finger beckoning, a whisper floating on the breeze towards me, but just beyond comprehensibility.
Hang on … I’ll get there eventually, my friend!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~