Of palm-lines and rambling

There is a theory in amateur palm-reading, that the meeting of the life and love line on your right palm is determined by the decisions you make as you go along. Here is no karma, no god... Just the decision whether to pack ones bags and leave, or stay and feed the cat. It is the decision, rather than the act itself.

Always been fascinated with that, alwaysalwaysalways... ever since I heard it. Have stared at my palm so often through the past four years of my life, that on a level its incredibly funny. The sort of fear Maupassant, O. Henry and Chekov would've been delighted to use in a story or play.

[An obsessive, strong-willed young girl who calls off her wedding everytime because of what she sees in her palms. Chekov and Henry would give her an enterprising Petruchio, who would give her expensive plush gloves that would be so tight that she would'nt be able to take them off at all once on. And of course, they would both make the gloves so beautiful that she would never want to remove them anyway. Maupassant, being French, would turn it into the story of an old bitter woman who waddled along the mid-day streets selling fish-- Reckoned to be a beauty in her day, her loneliness is answered by a missing right hand. Ahem]

But seriously though... truth be told, I have been obsessed with this strange indicator. And have often wondered, by extension, what makes people stay together without the aid of legal bonds and fevicol.

Love?

:)

It has often been stated as a good reason, true. Let us assume that that is the noun used to describe all possible ties between two individuals.

The usual train of logical thought leads next to the concept of "staying"-- fidelity, hanging up the boots, building a home, bringing home the bacon, settling down... in short, "making things work".

A full-stop to the way things used to be... a river finding its way to...erm... a pond at least, if not the sea. And Im curious to know what makes people quit the rambling on. What kills the wanderlust? What makes us say "enough"?

No, dont quote poetry at me. Break it down into the nutritional facts at the back of the box.

I have a theory, that some people find it easier to pause and take off the hiking gear forever, because they find it more comfortable. For these sweet souls, constant companionship is what takes away the stress and toil of dealing with the world head-on, alone.

Then there are those who see it as part of the natural progression of life. I don't know too many of this type, no offence intended. They find mates who think the same, they stare at the air-space in front of each other seriously while someone else says holy words no one understands anymore, there are many flowers and people, both smelly, and the circle is closed, but keeping on turning forever and ever, churning children and fat deposits, amen.

And then there are those who get up from that first head-rush of travelling 14 metres high up on an ice-cold pacific ocean wave held against the setting sun, and then being thrown back down on the sand and gasp out, "again".

A rare type, moved by all sorts of motives... fear not being the rarest, and yet there is some strange elvish grace about all who live this way, riding on horses, tramping through fields and swimming rivers in a world where surety and comfort are the words that get the most hits.

I am biased towards the last variety, true. But Im still not quite sure what makes any of the above categories tick.

Childhood fears... maybe dietary needs?

Or maybe just... Curiosity.

To see what stretches out and lazes in the sun beyond the bend in the road.

Till all nine lives are spent then...

here's to the grin that lasts after all else dissapears, amongst the laughter and talk of bats and trees.