Ophelia – The tale of tungarli 

What is escapism? The tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities by seeking entertainment or by engaging in fantasy. But then again what is reality? Is anything even real? #MrRobotForLyf

If we don’t escape from a place, how will we ever reach another place? So i say, escape. And sometimes the so called real world can get the best of us and in times like those, it is essential that we escape, it is essential we get lost in order to find ourselves.

This weekend i managed to escape the city life, which has started to lose its charm, to a place called tangurli lake/dam. I had no idea what to expect. But i had good company, better weather and the best music so i happily went along, expectationless and lost in my music.


‘Cleopatra’ by The Lumineers has been on repeat since the last few weeks now and my favourite track on the album is Ophelia. This album was on loop even when i was on my way there. Throughout the road trip there was overcast with slight drizzle. It was cloudy, misty, hazy, all sorts of sad and still impeccably beautiful. The music matched the weather matched the thoughts matched the music.

The clouds, the slight drizzle, the cool fresh breeze, the stillness, the reflection, the green, the flowers – oh there were too many perfect things at this place. synchronicity. I have already renamed this place Ophelia in my head.

Ophelia is also a Shakespearean character from hamlet. She was a hopeless romantic who was torn between her family and her love. A love which didn’t reciprocate. But is reciprocation really necessary in order to love? not really. But it sure would feel good.


“Ophelia enters with her hair and whole figure entwined with chains of flowers; and in her thin outer skirt, she carries a mass of them. She advances slowly with the strange light of insanity in her eyes, sits down upon the floor, and plays with the flowers in a childish way, as she sings. Then she arises, distributes rosemary, pansies, fennel, columbine and rue, sings her last song, loiters a moment after her parting benediction, and runs out in a burst of mad laughter.”


Thats how this place was. It was calm but creepy at the same time. Peaceful but intimidating at the same time. Beautiful but still broken. It yelled out love. The love of nature – which is the only thing that could possibly create something so beautiful. But it also yelled out indifference.

I could somehow relate to it. To the song. To the character. To the place. To everything. in the end we are all one aren’t we?

This song is as beautiful as this place. As beautiful as Shakespeare’s Ophelia. As beautiful as escapism. This song takes me to a place. To a place i was at, not too long back. But now the place somehow doesn’t exist. I wish it did because…

Oh, Ophelia, you’ve been on my mind girl like a drug
Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love

its crazy how loves makes you write poetry, climb hills and do all sorts of mad crazy fun things then suddenly its all gone and what remains are words. Words that were once said in a reality that doesn’t even exist anymore. Just like shakespeare, just like this 100 year old place, just like me, just like ophelia. So back to the initial question, is anything real?


2 Replies to “Ophelia – The tale of tungarli ”

  1. Is anything real?

    I resonate with you on this one. Escaping the madness of the city is must. When you are alone with the nature, you find your true self. You start observing the world around you, to which you are non observant otherwise.

    So many stories are being played simultaneously all around us. If you see closely, you can see how all these storie are similar to yours. In one way or the other.

    When I read Hamlet as a part of curriculum, I never dug deeper into that. It just passed by without causing any ruffle. Years later, when I look back at it today, there are so many things I could relate to. The conflicting emotions. The feeling to hold on and let go at the same time. The urge to run and stay still at the same time. It’s hard to explain. But that is where you understand yourself. However brilliant or stupid you are. You understand yourself.

    I believe only those things are real that you want to believe in. Reality is subjective. As is illusion.

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