Skip to main content

Do we find stories or do stories find us?

One thing that has always intrigued me is the world of stories, this very moment as I am typing these words , I am already getting framed into a story. Isn't it strange, the way we find stories everywhere we go or rather to put it in other way, stories find us no matter where we go. What makes the world of stories intriguing are the never ending possibilities of a make believe world, parallel lives merge and diverge to meet yet other lives. The best part being, we can always give stories an ending no matter sad or happy but we get to write our own story and that is what matters, isn't it?

So the story which found me, while I was least expecting to come across it is about someone who only knew to spread happiness but that's where she wen't wrong. So, she was a butterfly, her wings flimsy. She got attracted by the flashy colours that carried sweet fragnances. She couldn't smell the deep dark odour which lay underneath those flashy smiles. She knew to love life and that was what mattered.
 
Came a strong breeze from the North, it had that robust tinge which could harm her flimsy wings, but could she ever think of anything else apart from him. She let her wings tear apart, she was willing to give away her flight for she wanted to sail with the breeze. While the breeze kept on soothing her heart, she completely forgot to make use of her wings. Life was rolling fine until that gentle breeze turned into a storm. Now, what were she to do? She had long forgotten her wings. All of a sudden things started making sense, how could she ever match her flimsy wings with that of this northern breeze who hadn't for once thought of her before turning into a storm?

She went back to mend her wings which no longer held life but she was learning to be patient. She started her flight again, she stumbled and even broke her wings but she knew that she were to keep trying. With each passing day, she got better but whenever a breeze blew past her, she felt it's chill settling in her heart but she knew that she were to be her own little sunshine to brighten her world.

Her wings have started taking flight and as I see her fly past, I can't but hope that her wings don't get shattered again.

And I know this story would find her at a better pace years from now and as I said it would find it's way to tell me about her. It's not yet time to think of an ending to her story.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reading between the lines

"Read between the lines",  I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am,  would you please elaborate? ",  I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted  self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...
Post a Comment
Read more

What do you want to be?

While I was in my 10th standard, almost everyone I met wanted to know what I wanted to be. This question always perplexed me. From the lens of a fifteen year kid who was not yet sure of the changes which awaited in the near future, this question gave me nightmares. I would constantly sit by the mirror and ask myself, what actually would be my answer. My friends always had fancy answers at their disposal. They would confidently chirp whenever any one asked about it. What amused me most was, my friend who had no inkling to study Biology wanted to be a doctor and another friend who detested the idea of even cooking noodles, wanted to be a chef! But whenever they spoke about their wishes, they would always sound confident. And there I was, fumbling for words which refused to escape my lips. It was not until I entered Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya to do my plus two, I found my voice. The teachers there have a different way of viewing life. For the first time, I no longer felt the classroom...
2 comments
Read more

"My love is enough for both of us"

"My love is enough for both of us", she often felt those words ring in her heart. She finally had understood that life wouldn't always follow her designs. That people are meant to leave but their memories won't. She often had wondered how someone could love her to such an extent when that person had always known that she wouldn't reciprocate those feelings. How could a person stand by her when she always acted as a fleeting shadow. She never had given hope for she knew the pain of dejection but he kept hoping like a hopeless vagabond. How she wished that he would some day hate her enough to let go. She devised ways to free him from this web, she acted cold, turned indifferent, did everything he detested and she finally saw some changes. It was a relief, he finally seemed to take hold of his life. She could see him grow responsible. He finally it seemed was learning to love himself. Phone calls died, meetings subsided, they become known strangers. All this while ...
2 comments
Read more