Swirls of white smoke fuming could be seen all around the
tiny me. Mesmerized , awed and with little knot of fear tucked in
heart , I looked around to find the source of it. Mystic it was, I could see
everything(or should I say shadows of it) still I was not able to make out
anything. Initial few hurried attempts went down the drain when to my utter
shock ,the harder I tried to run, to touch anything, to think , to
concentrate , it all resulted in blanket
of smoke becoming denser all around me .It was like a marsh. Huffed and puffed
I was , stayed right there where I was with not an inch of muscle moving. The
wisps of smoke swirling started fading out and the whole scene became
clearer. Soon , I was in front of a
cluttered stack. Lying besides it was a tattered yellow sheet of paper tapped
at various places. A closer look at it made a shiver run down the spine. There
lay in front of my eyes a detailed plan of my life with a few blocks added later
and few crossed out or rewritten in different way. The irony of the situation
was the stark difference in the way it was in detailed plan and how all the
things heaped up in a clutter. Little self-pitied, I picked up a thing or two
to examine and all the other things started to topple. In an attempt to gather
and maintain a balance, I was just too occupied to notice in which order they
were supposed to be. There was everything one can think of to find in a
platter. There laid tenderness of love wrapped in a scented tissue ,stiff
determination bundled with a rock solid will ,emotional tears in a tiny half –
filled bottle , memories scattered in the form of photographs – some old and
battered ,some still smelling just fresh, a jar filled with stones of all
shapes and sizes with still gaps visible in between.
A file stuffed with all the facts about me , few sheets
brought proud smile while other punctured it. There was a thick diary
documenting me with few pages left blank in the middle, some crossed out in an
angry way with cuts still visible across the sheet, some written in hurried writing,
some had tiny dried flowers pressed in between and fragrance still lingering, some were of
glossy paper with a ring of laughter hidden while some wore a solemn look and
were rough. While flipping it , I can feel tears rolling , few little droplets reluctant
to leave the corners of eye or sometimes pouring like a cloud burst or just a moist
glint in eyes. But how to put the jigsaw puzzle pieces in the right place is a
task in itself. Perhaps I would be able
to better direct my life when it is in more structured form or should I just
leave it like that to let the destiny decide what it has thought for me . With
life moving at such a pace , it is
becoming increasingly difficult for me to analyze what is happening around me
and how things need to be planned for a better life ahead. May be the love for
a much sought after ‘better life’ is making me not enjoy the present one with
clouds of uncertainty and anxiety hovering above. What is the best way ? To
look up the limitless sky and count the stars or just caress the grass as you
pass through green pastures and stop to
take in the sweet fragrance of the violets.
