Monday, 4 November 2013

Once Upon A Time …

We're all made of stories. When they finally put us down the stories are what will go on. Not forever but at least for a while.  its a kind of immorality I suppose bounded by limits , its true. But then again so is everything.
Despite all the differences we human beings have created amongst ourselves the one thing that's given equally to every single one of us, irrespective of the religion caste or creed we come from, is time. Probably the only thing we have control over. The only entity that when  properly made use of can differentiate you from all the others.
No,  I'm not going to be writing about time management ( what is that anyway. ) I'm just going to ask you one question. One simple question.
If you were to have written a diary would it have been a bestseller? Would people want to know what it felt like to wake up and be you? Would people read your diary and would they wish to have a life as brilliant as yours? 
I've always been taught to never regret doing something or being with someone that once made you smile. Be it getting caught while doing something utterly stupid with your best friend or secretly fawning over some guy who you thought was a stud. It was right because it made you smile. Even if it was for just a minute, it made you smile and so,  it was right.
Yes we've all heard those words of wisdom about not getting too attached to something or someone because if we do and if they go away our lives will completely fall apart. Firstly, if that happens, someone needs some real life-managing lessons. And secondly, we can always pretend like we didnt see it coming,  but deep inside, we are all aware, though painfully so, that when we signed up for this there was  no such thing as life-long guarantee. There always,  I repeat, always existed a possibility for you to part with them. Life doesnt really care if its killing you on the inside. You know what they  say, it's not difficult to give your heart to someone, what is difficult is cleaning up after. But it's what makes it worthy. Those days, be it a year, a month or even if it's just for a day, be glad it happened! It sucks to have your heartbroken, yes, but what are our choices? We always heal. Some slower than the others but all of us do. We might as well let go of our feelings and get hurt than sit around thinking of what could have been.
One thing I think every single one of us should do is talk. Just talk. To anyone! Be it the person who knows you best or a complete stranger you sit next to in a bus. Be it the dumbest person you've met or the smartest. Be it the person you love or the person you cant stand the sight of. Just talk. About anything! Literally. ( uhm that tree around the corner of the road, maybe?). No I'm not kidding you. Just talk. You'll be surprised when you hear what they have to offer. It could probably be very similar to what you think or just something that annoys you. It could be something absolutely lame or something that takes you by surprise! For all we know, if that person is creative, it could even turn out to be romantic!
Notice how no two people are similar? Notice how each one of them has something to offer? Notice how each of these conversations are effecting our lives?
Whether it surpised you or made it laugh or just annoyed you, it still happened. It was meant to happen. That's all we are. Chapters. Chapters in the stories of the lives of the people around us. We're connected and held together by a force that's beyond our understanding. Some chapters small and insignificant some long and never ending. Some beautiful and joyful,  some not so much. But they make you what you are today. This moment. Each person. Each thought. Each conversation. Contributing to your life. To your story.
Have as many chapters as you can. Be one in many other stories. Dont be afraid if it'll be a happy ending. Just be. And I can assure you it is, more often than not, a happy ending. A very happy one.
Remember, each one of us has a story to share. The seamen tell us the stories of the winds, the ploughmen of the wolves. The soldier details his wounds and the shepherd his sheep. The old reminisce about their childhood,  the young dream of their future.

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