What is life? A question we all ask ourselves … sitting idle on a couch, over a cup of coffee. Eventually, growing up leads from one complexity to another. For instance, I thought things in eleventh grade would be easier, but they became more tough … or I thought we as friends would never part ways, but with time we did. Isn’t it strange that people who matter at a point in time do not really in some other frame?
I liked him, I really did … my heart told me that every day … but now, when he seems all disinterested, everything just burned into fumes. I realized that was nothing, a feeling all brought down to zero, all with time … strange!!
I thought I’d be a doctor. I did not end up being one, and now what I am doing is entirely different from what I planned to … weird!!
We aspire … perspire … conspire … some in the process land up somewhere. The ones we see on TV, the ones who make news and headlines, the rest are the ones who make a difference, but the impact factor is not too high. They may change the lives of others they surround, but they don’t wish to be in limelight.
When I ask myself why I am breathing, I get the answer that tomorrow is a new hope … and that hope keeps me alive. For the want to achieve something, for the want to meet that special one, for the want to see my friends happy, for the want to be successful, and for the want to keep the spirit of life alive. And then I sit down and write, and write till my fingers hurt. Yes I wouldn’t mind even if they bleed because that is how I can express my anger, fears, frustration, and love to this world around. I can barely speak, but at least I can convey in silence, and that keeps me alive … that’s what life is to me.