This is where the world slows down, and reverses back the eternal hurry that’s been invented in this post-post-modernist time, where the sound of cities become whispered secrets. This is where the details of things come to life.
Sadness is a downpour, while melancholy, can be anything.
In melancholy the possibilities are endless. Sadness is withdrawn and melancholy is outstretched
In sadness, the feeling of it overshadows everything and it searches for an outlet, always, to let go. Melancholy is already out there as much as it is in here, in one’s mind.
In my melancholy, I discovered I become susceptible to everything, and I see things in microscopic details.
My melancholy is the hallucination of reality, looking through life through painted glass. Where everything is needed, and nothing is left behind. It’s like watching the tsunami of life in slow motion. The run of people, the rush of traffic, and the rhythm of cities, takes time to unfold. Meanwhile, the other things become accessible.
If you are beautifully doomed enough to be melancholic, you can see how on highways, the birds spread their wings against the air that is heavy with all things human, how the ants by the Brahmaputra like a holy pilgrimage walk in unison to destinies, how people move their hands around when talking, how the clouds change their shapes as they wish, how people’s eyes grow prehistoric truths in moments without even letting them know!
Sadness is the popular girl, known and talked about.
Melancholy is the quiet one, sitting in the corner, both in and out of herself.
If life is a collection of stories, melancholy is the parts where the light dimmed down and became adoringly soft, where even the edges seemed loveable, where the smallest of sorrow came out to join the party, where sadness grew out of herself and became more than what god intended.
So, though the clouds hang so low that one can almost touch them, I give melancholy a 5 Star!