I’m a huge fan of The Doors. I’m not much of a rock music aficionado otherwise though. In fact, like most people, I started enjoying rock after joining college. Now, of course, I swear by Pink Floyd, but The Doors are amazing too. Riders on the Storm, LA Woman, Roadhouse Blues, Hello I love you… the list is endless. The Decayed Canine has actually got one of his Philosophism posts featuring them. Like all of his other posts, that one too is a must-read.
The End is another of the Doors’ numbers that I love. It’s depressing (Father, mother… what the hell?) but still enjoyable. One can imagine oneself to be obviated of all emotion when one sits back and enjoys that song. 11 minutes and 42(!) seconds of bliss. The message it carries is universal. There are times, when it is, the end. The End, in fact. Like all movies, like all books, like all good series. There has to be an end. Hoping for something to last forever while knowing at the back of your mind that it is going to come to an end one day is the most common aporia ever. It is also one that one can be forgiven for. Hope and knowledge are, after all, two of the main things that humans are made of. Two abstract quantities that set us apart from the lesser beings of the animal kingdom. You can put off thinking about it, you can ignore the thought, you can use mindless activities as poultices but someday, the end will stare you in the face.
Every time you watch a movie like Taare Zameen Par or Schindler’s List (both of which have posts due), which you are absolutely wrapped up in, there is a small voice inside you that says that the first-time experience has only some counted minutes left. Every time you read a book, the thinning stack of pages to your right tells you what its thickening counterpart on the left does- you are closer to the end. While it’s true that the same movie can be watched again and again and so can the same book, the fact remains that in most senses, one amazing experience has ended.
You can pickle your fruit, you can freeze your meat, you can store your medicines in a cool dry place. The question is, for how long? Preservation is not a solution, it’s more of a placebo. A way to put off what must eventually follow. School days are fun, college even more so, but it has to end.
It’s not all negative though. For better or for worse, every disease must end. No bad experience can last forever. Every pain has an expiry date attached. Every sorrow must give way to happiness.
The 11 minutes are over. The 42 seconds too. Time to get back to the other 42. Yes indeed, This is the End.
# posted by Saagar @ 12:39 am
: 11:53 pm 
