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Minimal love & time-less memories

It is the supposed season of love and rightly so this revamp. After a hiatus of 9 years, Indianiser gets a responsive framework. If it thought it got entombed in a pile of rubble, here is the proof. My apathy shouldn’t depreciate the worth it is.

Admittedly, my interest in blogging has dwindled down to glimpses over the years. But, as a confiding comrade, the blog deserved the better of me, journeying through crossroads, astonishing depths, skirmishes and even new acquaintances, for all those still connected through mail.

As the visual shows, the aesthetics and interface is kept all the way minimal. When brand strategists quote Mies van der Rohe for the famous catchphrase “Less is more”, I am transposed ten years behind, toying with html and Adobe to make ‘less’ more sophisticated. After all the labor and keeping abreast with the visually compelling components, the digital world is back to where it all started…and now proudly calls minimalism the fad. Who knew reductivism and Flat Design with a lot of whitespace would change the digital landscape to such proportions.

The complex wireframes, superfluous backgrounds, cluttered structures, all gone. Typography, straight forward images and less loud colors brings to center stage that which matters. Simplicity wins. Nonetheless, the old framework here seemed pretentious in all its form. So much of ornamentation and useless elements that made no sense whatsoever.

Guess it just reflected my personality though I am a lover of simplicity through and through. I often fail to acknowledge subtle beauty for the over complication of things and people. The fewest and barest essentials could sometimes point to that which truly deserves unquestionable attention. Minimalist life in all sense. So much so that even after my phone wipes off all data, I continue to feign disregard.

Being the week of love, as the world screams, not just the material, I fondly remembered those that were retained in memory. Not to forget the few who shared my north days. Honestly, what’s so great about us when all is rosy? Aren’t those that invest their time in us at uncertain times that need season’s recognition?

Time, truly, is our greatest resource. Where we invest tells much of our priorities, our today and our future. I warily look back and discover nothing I possessed more precious than the gift of time. Everything else I could earn, but not this. The yesteryears are past and lost forever. And to those I cared I lived as though time was going backwards. I will never get back those years. And definitely if given again, I would ruthlessly discipline myself to be judicious about people and invest in more beneficial and productive ways. Beliefs are sometimes misleading when they stand on delusions and fallacies. Only time will unravel itself. All that will be left for years to come will be memories of the many follies.

As I regretfully rifled over part of my time that was beyond retrieval, I was fairly surprised by the call of a dear mother reminding me of the candies I get the kids on V. Day. She narrated how the tots at the child shelter remembered and questioned the absence. Alas, with a deep sigh, I reasoned over the considerable years not given for a cause more virtuous and rewarding. I almost certainly have lost a myriad of benefits. Indeed, selfish I was, mindless about time, feeding my own shortsighted perspectives. Though I have been awed all my life by the selflessness of the cross, I brooded over my wicked self, shelling out all the cherished lessons and missing on the meaningful and life-giving experiences.

Unlike the familiar love, the underpinning of a selfless love is downright surrender to that considered more worthy. The unfathomable paradox of that is, it does not end with sacrifice, but death. You die to everything that you held dear for that which is valuable beyond measure. The man who once asked his favorite disciple, do you love me, replies to him about the result of that love, indicating his death. After that very question, he predicates the result of that love. “Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go“.

Truly, the disciple and the man who told that died in that fashion, unclad, pierced, and taken up a wooden stake. The result of any selfless love is time and again death, though not in physical terms. That is the highest form there is of any love. When you are not younger, you understand the depth and pain of those words. Honestly, the only person and cause worthy to have such a selfless death, even against your will, is our creator. To invest in anything lesser than that is a conscious risk to take. For we run through untold miseries for failing to distinguish that of genuine value.

For man is time and again consumed by himself. There is always the pride of I. The fruitlessness of those that are perpetually consumed by the thoughts of their own comfort and needs. Even when words and phrases are sugarcoated beyond reason for the gains of the self. One of the finest writers and theologians of our times, CS Lewis, captured it in these lines.

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love – a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek –
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.

Lewis was candidly honest. We are determined mercenaries, and if given a choice we would have all the good the world has to offer, including God, to simply end where the great I begin. Very few are those who can be selfless and those who can find such virtue in others. And if you find, value, cherish and care, chances are you might never come across one, for I still can’t think I have.

Guard against all the inventive, intangible lovers rhetoric. We see what we want to see, we believe what we want to believe. Only time will tell whether we lived in delusions of mediocrity. All those delusions thrive because of its melodious superficialness.

The passing of time escapes no one. It is among that which never can be regained. If time is fleeting, know that the wisest rightly grieve the most at the loss of time. To those who take it precious, spend that scarce resource on people and causes that are worthwhile and has significance for eternity. To have squandered, abused and destroyed that resource would be agonizing and painful.

To those who could look back and brag about a well-lived time, fond memories and worthwhile people and cause up until present day, you have an admirer in me. For sundry reasons, I now esteem much who selflessly give and receive on any day, with the orphaned, hungry, broken and unwelcome. You never know, you might stumble on endless joy and timeless satisfaction in those dark and dingy corridors. For here, there are no contrived stories, artful tearjerkers, fancy emotions and cliched promises. Every tear is real and joy palpable. Settle for not mere memories, but truthful, satisfying and meaningful memories that echo through eternity. And if you thought roses offered permanence, watch the bloom of a peaceful, less-flashy Magnolia. For it is known, even the tree flowers for over a 100 years.

Adios ~