Somehow the smell of rain, the wind in my hair, the heightened sense of pain is making me acutely sad, and nostalgic for a past I am leaving behind. Uncertain about the future, I wait like an oppressed cloud hoping to burst upon the world, tearing past the sunrays and moonbeams. Someday soon.
So much to say, so little time to feel it, share it or even make sense of it. Maybe, one day, I will indeed find my own definitions of life, love, lust and laughter; something that I will find comfort in living out daily, in big and small ways.
Two familiar strangers, connected yet estranged in the legend of life. Perhaps they’ll be able to break the mould, find their respective dreams, and also share some meaningful togetherness.
Way back in my childhood, during the northwesterly storms, everyone would scurry around to shut off the impudent wind, and the all-encompassing dust and disorder. I hated this act of shutting nature out. We are fools in our power and glory to think that we can control the direction of life always. I realized back then itself how scared we normally are of change.
Go with the flow I’d say and throw open the doors and windows. The admonishing cries still hound the little girl…a piece of her will forever be the same.
Come ye wind… rustle up my boredom, hustle up my pent-up emotions, tousle up my mane and undo my soul; so that, after the rain stops, and the clouds clear, my restless heart can attempt to shove the dust away and settle for that peace of mind that it is entitled to.
Soak up every drip woman…I say, you have arrived.