faint shadows - interspersed with swift images  

“How we need another soul to cling to?” said Sylvia Plath.

One would think that she, of all people, would know the truth behind her words. And yet, it’s a thought that we all echo at some point of time nor the other. What is it about being alone that drives a human to such profound thoughts?

The world repeats its mantra: Life is a race. We explore, expand our avenues to run in an earnest attempt to carve a place for ourselves in this world. Some leave a place we’ve always known as home in our effort to recreate a niche in more prospective lands. We arrive with a few belongings and even fewer notes to our namesake in search of a magic wand that multiplies both of these in a jiffy. And thus we take our first few steps toward participating in a rat race that, for some of us, will last till an eternity.

And while clocks tick away at an unearthly hour, the city around never seems to lie back and fall asleep. As if it’s an entity by itself which needs not a moment to rest and repose, the city watches the nameless faces cater to its whims and demands in hopes of achieving some small happiness as their return gift. Feeding on a fodder of human spirit, the machinery grinds and groans away. Nourished by toil, the technology around has a new fervor and vigor of its own. In a land of glitz and electric light, it’s suddenly difficult to find a human being to reach out to.

A good thing about paying a price for one’s success is, well, success - real or perceived. We console ourselves with our small joys, reason with ourselves that every sacrifice is worth it, and tell ourselves that looking every night at the drab ceiling overhead is better than counting stars on the pavement. We assure ourselves that this is the dream we made a move for. Translated, altered, and improvised but still our dream. Happy that we have made it, sad to have made it… 

And that burning thought - Where is the “other soul” that we need to cling on to?