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...