It was raining after such a long time. Pitter patter of the rain drops sounded like music to her ears. It felt like a consolation for her isolation. The earth drank up the water as if it was her first ever milk from the mother. Ha! The thirst of the earth was like nothing she had seen and felt for quite some time.
The whole scenario made her go back to the innocent days of her childhood. Ah! What fun it was to get wet in the rain and to splash around the raindrops. Remembering those days made her nostalgically emotional, the steam of the coffee mug she held in her hands brought her back to the present. She wondered, how many people today had the time or the patience to enjoy small joys of life like this. If she had the literary sense of a poet, she would have been already penning away the poetical beauty of the rain. The poet would have probably described the earth and the rain drops as long lost lovers. The earth hugging all the drops of rain as if there is no tomorrow. That’s what a poet does best, trying to find out the hidden love in everything.
Love, holds different meaning at different time in everyone’s life. It did, in her life too. But she now, prefers to say the definition of love differs in every stage of life. She had learned that love can be colder than the ice and can make rain drops seem like fire drops on self when in love. Love sometimes can be torturous, reminding every time It is like disasters in motion, days of devotion availing nothing but pain. But all in vain. It is many a times easier said than done. Being in love is like, being lost in an ocean, getting swept away by the tide, with no option but drowning. All these rules of this universe just pulled her down. Where in all what she wanted was to fly away to a place so high where she could kiss the sky.
She felt the choke in her windpipe when she remembered her past yesterdays. She loses herself in her thoughts. And she had learned over the years that we can be outstandingly defensive about our thoughts. She Floated away in her thoughts , as if in a mist. She was always that sort of person, always a day dreamer who have lived the life she wanted in her day dreams. But lately she feels twisted in her head. As if she can’t think straight, increasingly having difficulty concentrating on things. Unsteady of present and unsure of the future. Not Good, she mutters to herself, No! She doesn’t like her current situation at all. She was better of daydreaming, at least there, everything was always picture perfect.
Happy moments in her life were like the dew drops which magically disappears with the rising sunshine. How much ever beautiful they were, she felt its lifespan in her life was short. Life had ridiculed her, tested her patience, punished her for no fault of hers & tormented her until she wished she was dead.
Are we all victims of our fate, or do we define our own destiny? Pondering over this made her mind more sluggish.
Life can be unpredictable, that’s the truth we fail to realise. How can life possibly go on after certain incidents which turns out to be tragedies at least for the person who goes through it. Some personal scars do remain, there is only 2 ways of handling it. Either u can brood over it or learn to accept it and co live with it. Time heals everything and every wound, when there is a zest for living life simply moves on.
If life was a book her life would have made an interesting story to read. A typical Kamala Das story. There is no perfect story like Life. Action, Drama, Romance, Sentiments etc… etc… Life seems like a burden when we live it but how interesting it is when we read it as a story as a third person. The rain had dulled over, the sun took up it’s duty, never leaving a clue that it had rained some time back. All the clouds gave way for the sun. Many a times, our life depicts the same picture, the clouds of gloom days just wrapped up by the sun of better days all bright and shining, but the only difference is that our mind never let goes of anything, anything for that matter. And that is where the painful memories succeeds in leaving a stain in the sunny days of our life. If only our mind had learned to let go of things which hurt us. Wishful thinking, that’s all it is. Oh, Lets just face it, our mind is not the calmest of the rivers to sit by. Always bubbling up with something or the other, never still for a moment. She was mesmerised at its capacity to keep up with all things in time…Time!! it’s all about time
While her mind and her thoughts wandered away, she realised all her past felt like another life she lead from what she was living now. Did she really live a life like that before or was it all just a fragmentation of her imagination. She longed for a fresh start. Ha! If only life had an escape route and a fresh new identity. If she had a chance, a place where no body knows or recognizes her, a completely different place would be her choice for that fresh start. Who knows may be life would give her a second chance to erase away the messed up situations in her life.
Things are not as simple in life as we try to make it. Life is most of the time, Complex! And if it is not, then we make it complex. Life is as complicated or simple as we want to make it. You cannot blame others for the happiness and sadness in your life. Sometimes it so happens in our life, that we easily see and feel others problems but somehow can never understand our own sorrows. We live in our own bubble, we don’t even realise what is happening in the outside world. And even if we know we forget it conveniently or rather we don’t won’t to remember it.
Her mornings waited for the nights to come and her nights waited for the mornings to come. So it went on, both coming and going but her mornings and nights couldn’t bring anything along with it that could satisfy her. She still waits! And her memories gives her company. Good and Bad both. Those memories had become her shadows and how much can one run, from their own shadow.
Our life has lots of passing clouds in it. It comes with all its puffiness and stays on for some time in which we too floats but it goes quietly as it came. But some clouds leaves with thunder and lightening and it leaves a dark sky behind, but that soon clears up to reveal a clear blue sky, and we wait for another puffed up cloud to come along. But one thing she always told herself, and others, was never ever mistake silences for weakness, Some times the air is still, before the onset of a hurricane.
Her legs could never keep up with the speed of her mind. It just wandered, over all the terrains and she could never stop it. Sometimes that made her feel that she was encapsulated and entrapped in a fragile body. “Fragile! Handle with care!” She wanted to command to her body to keep up with her mind. But No! Her body acted like an adamant child who insisted about its capacity. If she could dump her body and soar away with her spirit, she would have done so many things she only dreamt of. Again! Wishful thinking. That’s all. Like every other wishes of hers.