Struggling with the present is one thing; reminiscing and rehearsing is another. We are continuously falling in a spiral lined with ifs: an if of remorse and patency and an if of what lies ahead. What if I had done it, and what if this happens?
Rome wasn’t built in a day, nor were our crises of the present. The past is sealed by the realm of time, no matter how much you scream about it. It’s out of your reach, and so is the future. The stars can’t be rewritten, and the prince is dead. What makes living in the past so mortifying is its theft of our presence and coevality.
Our nostalgia trap, ruminations and persistent regret temporarily dissociate us. We detach ourselves from reality because either it doesn’t align with the perception we built, or we are shackled by the belongings of the past.
Emily Dickinson’s ‘remorse’ calls it incurable. And I call the future unredeemable, as it’s the past written with new ambitions. What we do not understand in our grandiose envisaging of the future is that our current moment shapes it. The moment we spend today shapes our future tomorrow. But the uncertainties and insecurity which come as an unwelcoming guest hinder us from accepting the uncertain future.
The very nature of a human being seeks an observatory segment. It asks to view and observe, while the future is reluctant to divulge itself, which haunts the human. Our mind and cognition work in an unfortunate manner to consistently remind us that we had a past and we will have a future.
Though the present may not be as dystopian as we may perceive, it sure comes with its price, which needs to be paid. The present is the only moment we have, which aligns with our built-in curiosity to see everything and our adopted stubbornness to have everything in control. How many of us can go for a 25-minute walk without being indulged in the trauma of the past and the horror of the future, although 25 minutes is a generous time?
The situation escalates when, instead of addressing the phenomena, we start romanticising it; old soul, nostalgic aesthetic, and reminiscent aura may charm you for a while, but one day, as dressed in a beautiful black scarf, your abandoned present will come to you, may not shout at you but look into your eyes silently, hold you gently, and make you realise how much you’ve lost.
To reconcile with the past, you will realise that you alone have lost the present, and now you find yourself trapped in a vicious cycle of regret for lost opportunities and a future that cannot be forced into certainty. What remains persistent is the present, but only for a moment; it’s rushing to leave itself in the past and join the future. Fragile is the moment only we have; gone is the past, and ghostly is the future.