Random thoughts of a restless mind.

Note: Read at your own risk. The probability of understanding the below write up is air thin. Thank you.

What does she want?  Is it nothing but patience or let’s give it a more fascinating name, call it hope. Is she ready if the Genie appears right in front of her  muttering, ‘your wish is my command’. Hope is just a word given for  accumulating the courage to do the right thing, this she knew. There is, she ponders, in every disposition, a certain defect, which not even the best education can learn to overcome. 

A lump in the throat that never ceases to die down. To carry the lump all the way through and season it with a dash of stretching those 14 facial muscles, yes, a smile. If smiling meant being happy, she would be the happiest soul.  She often smiled, for she was always surrounded by the love of  people. The reason she didn’t know, or probably, she didn’t want to know. For she feared of losing that very reason. She wasn’t  one among the sheep herd. 

She felt suffocated at the idea of doing what everybody did. She doesn’t want to settle for anything less than what she was searching for. She doesn’t have a destination. But all that matters to her is the journey. She often felt people considered her to be an automaton, a machine without feelings, snatching the last bit of a water droplet that could help her survive. She also knew she was wrong. Maybe she was snatched of that living water to be presented with a beaker of energy-rich drink. Just, maybe. And she knew, no matter  how fulfilling  the latter might be, her heart always longed for the former.

Temperament and guilt was not her thing. Presented with a reality, she would always chose the one that appeared to be, even though deep down, she knew it was the contrary.  She couldn’t live with the thought of not doing something and wondering all her life, about what could have happened if she had taken the big step, she preferred living with the consequences than a regret.

There is something  so bizarre about the predictions and in-harmony that a young mind comes up with in moments of considerable significance. For she always seems to have a stirring passion which unfortunately is against the general public opinion. Beyond the right and wrong, there is something meaningful. If only, she wished, people had the time to go to that place, to ponder, to help, to cherish, to live. For at a certain point in one’s life, she had started to notice the people around, how what she did affects them, how one little gesture could bring a smile on those worn out, happiness scraped lips.  Deep down, things hurt her. But she didn’t want to showcase that to the world.   

She perennially reached a saturation point.But she knows it is okay to break down. A periodic outflow of the water is necessary just as sweating is on a hot summer day. Stickiness, irritation and crankiness crept into the body and soul, but, it is important, for next comes the best part, you no more feel warm. Fresh she felt. It seems  like a glow on a late winter’s moon along the horizon.   A betterment. Even more so, a necessity. If all the things are with reference to some other, why is it wrong to do the things the way she wants to do ,she wonders.  She too has a reference.  Life had the best gleams of sunshine for her. But beyond that, there was an overwhelming pain she never wants to show.  She believed in shooting stars and spring rains and good luck, she laughed at her animosity. She is used to it.

 And now she awaits for the journey to begin.

 Having the least bit idea that the journey was long begun...