Musing

Things went magically insane the very moment someone's presence rejuvenated life back into the dead city of mine. A gush of wind passed by in the wind hushing some symphony of belongingness. I stood still for a while in amusement looking at the way things were around, all of a sudden. The sick old tree beside the lake had tiny green leaves peeping out from the lifeless branch. The heart sighed after a long; the change was for good. It was almost evening and the dark didn't scare me. The lonely cuckoo was duetting with some other bird which I failed to recognize. My world was getting dipped into the leftover of the sunset, all magical and bright.  Almost a month passed since that day. Today, the wind reminded me of that time when he arrived with hands full of amusement, restlessness, sparkles and magic. The wind is crisp and soothing, despite all the heated situations in between. May be it's not the city, may be it's not the wind nor even those golden hues. May be it is ...

We know that life, at the end of the day, isn't about how we live it; it's about how we don't give up despite our unwillingness to continue. That single thread of hope amidst the will to give up and stand tall, is what life is all about. We believe certain things won't go, no matter how bad situations are. But what we don't realize is that one tiny little overconfidence works as a silent blow to the sandcastle. We, at some point of time, have that feeling and when we realize that, certainly it's too late to build it up again. Like the castle, some people make us believe in magic. And fortunately that magic happens only with them. But not when we try to find it elsewhere. May be that charismatic feeling of belongingness is what we call magic, unknowingly.  Like the Autumn never knows that it's preciously more breathtaking than the blossoms of Spring. That one person doesn't know what it beholds, until and unless the winter comes with spooky wind and froze...