Originally posted on http://nehaahlawat.wordpress.com

Maybe the absence of signs is a sign.

Every time, every single time I watch this movie, Jonathan Trager and Sara make me fall for destiny, love and the word ‘Serendipity’. I have always been jealous of Sara, for possessing those freckles that beautifully connect to form the constellation of Cassiopeia, based on the unrivaled beautiful (and arrogant) queen Cassiopeia of Ethiopia. Or maybe, I am jealous of her having Trager, who could distinguish the freckles and symbolize it into something that uniquely identifies her. Because its not about the queen or her beauty, or about the stars signifying romanticism. It is about that sign, him spotting it, and it staying forever embedded in her skin, literally.

Best moments and happiness always come effortlessly. Today, as I looked up gazing at the night sky, Cassiopeia was staring right back at me. I had not planned to spot it, but there it was. To discern it as a sign would be very difficult, but that one moment when I spotted it, contained the purest form of joy and ecstasy, that I can ever attach to a memory. The very fact that I had never tried to locate the constellation in the past made it special, and I can call it as my own secret sign. Just that neither do I have those freckles to carry it with me throughout, nor do I have a Trager who can interpret it and make it eternal.

I am a believer. I do not wish to dig into occurrences as a desperate attempt to draw conclusions and signs. Things and events that matter to one, might make little or not difference to the other. People derive meanings differently, similar to how they see them differently. For there might be many who look right through the Cassiopeia, at the M103, only to find quintessential messages that signify their own lives. But I do believe that there is always a possibility of two individuals sharing a sight as well as a thought at the crown shaped stars.

And then there’s destiny. Something that has always scared humans. We have invariably been unable to decide, if we make our destinies, or the reverse. Destiny gives us the signs, but unless we decipher them, we will never be able to build our clandestine memories. Reminds me of the lyrics “I don’t even know her name, I guess foolish pride’s to blame“. (As she’s walking away, by Zac Brown Band)

After all, to be able to understand a fortunate accident, one must have noticed it. This is the beauty of it. I espied Cassiopeia when I was least expecting it, and this will be my Serendipity.

Published by Neha Ahlawat