I have so far never wondered with the deepest of my conscious in play that I would ever write a story. It was not a rat race to start with. It was more than that. A story to be imagined,a dream to be desired , a destiny to be fulfilled. Excelling and exploring a status I would find myself fit. A purpose beyond my personal craving for applause. A purpose that steers me into the direction of the whole daunting question of who I am and who I can be. To the world, that is acquainted of luxuries and pleasures.
What surprises me is my inability to profoundly accept my affinity to nature, humility and gratitude. I need to realize my true pleasures lies only in the things my heart believes in. There is, of course, an expiry date for blaming others for my failures and my inability to balance on a string that has so far withheld all my glamorous catwalks and slumpy weights . Amidst all this is my undaunting determination to stand on the wallowing string give this a try!
I owe all my strengths to life, that has thought me to stand in other’s shoes and know their secrets, a ruthless power to manipulate them but the choice to not do so. I inertly believe I can understand them better. A moment of truth that defines them is eloquently hidden in all of them.
I intend to find them, I intend to know them and I desire to find myself through that journey. And maybe that is why I love to travel. On wheels or into books, both of them has the magic to realize the greatest truth of life. That we are in a story, as mere puppets! But as humans, we are provided with free will and how our wills are always steered out of the path, into the world with comfort zones is always an unsettling subject to be spoken of. The free will is misused in the most capricious manners in the world. As I always put that Life is mostly unfair and people incorrigible. I do believe in magic and in the potion of the time’s generous existence. We fade away, we are lost. Never the time, it stays here like an old wise teacher!