“I could hear you in the silence; I could see you in the dark,
To walk another mile with you, I wished to be stark,
To be the ‘real’ me, without the malice and lies,
Till the road bent an easier turn for you, or your will to be with me dies!”
To begin with, I know the baby remained unattended for a very very long time, but in search of seeking ‘what I want’; I found out, WRITING and ME, inseparable variables! So here I am, travelling back and forth through the time, only to realize that for me, the canvas to words is irresistible, and if it has to be passion, it has to be this!
Over this whole span of good three months, life treated me in the weirdest possible ways. The sugar went sour, the dry absorbed moisture, the obvious became incomprehensible and the unsaid roared out loud. Without getting into the details of the tale, the long and short of it came to me like this - there’s nothing more beautiful than being YOURSELF! Don’t worry, it’s not another self-help pep talk, rather it’s the extract from those who walked in and walked out of my life, and a few who decided to walk along…
Life has come a long way, and people still seem the pivotal fascination. Breaking the human psyche code though has taken a backseat, yet the inquisitiveness on pretence crops up now and often. For a very long time, I wondered why people around us pretend, why can’t they just be themselves, who they are, how they are… till I realized that the way I seek beauty in the reality of being real, a few of our clan find the same beauty in pretence. And all of a sudden, the fog of biasness evaporated. I know I might be sounding too cluttered, but the irony of life hit me hard. When I thought myself to be sinful, I found myself among saints; and the moment the serenity of pureness settled in, the world seemed like a graveyard of preserved corpse.
I realized that though it’s important to conceal, the challenge to be naturally intact with your basic nature is the need. So, no matter how many bright stars you have around you, no matter how many name you as the moon, no matter how many see you as the only light up there; you have to keep reminding yourself that shining is only the reflective action of the pure. Every morning, you will have to retire to the same blue sky with the pretence of nature to be calm; the rage of seas and the tide of the reality would be the privilege of the dark.
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