Sometimes it is the small things. The most insignificant stuff, that breaks your heart. And sometimes it takes a mountain to move you one inch. And there she was sitting by the sea shore, watching the waves ripple and letting her life float by. The waves were barely able to flirt with her toes, and she hardly felt any of that. Lost in her own stories and more stories. How is that in your own stories you are always right... Like the character who has hardly any shades of grey, while the rest are either grey or black.
If ever thoughts were tracked where all they would go. The power to move from yesterday to a decade back in an infinitesimal second. All connected all lost. And the personal and public gets blurred. Just like the salty sweat and clean dripping water from a sipper gets blurred on the skin while on the treadmill. And that’s where they met… or
maybe somewhere else. Who cares???
Well, there was something common between them, or so it
seemed to her at that time. But now… everyday is like this feeling of
overwhelming sense of responsibility and duty and commitment to the world and
the family. What do they like, what would they say, what would they want, and
what do they need? Somewhere in all this she got lost. When? How? Why? Those
can be only suppositions no one can really answer. And now sitting at the sea
shore she is searching for a way back to herself, but she has forgotten who that
was.
Everyone tells her: We love the ‘Old’ you! You had spunk,
personality, aggression and madness!
But she does not know the way back to that. I mean she was
no Hansel who kept dropping white pebbles to find her way back from the jungle,
even the bread crumbs have been long eaten away. How do you make a drum to
produce the same sound after it has been left to rot, thrown around, beaten up
and broken down? She was like the bass less, rotting drum, the sticks were
there, but the leather was torn.
And yet, today she has told herself to get up and start
again. Maybe with patches, with a whining sound not the same timbre of
confidence, she would start. Because
today, is not like the other days. Today, one of those small things have broken
her into innumerable pieces and there is just no more that she can take…
