*The late nights and early mornings will pay you off one day.*
From the moment we are all born, the people around us from certain dreams for us. They set some paths for us in their minds and try to shape us that way as we grow up. Rarely do people exist who let us build our own curvatures, our own clay-holes to mould our minds into the shapes we want them too. At most certain times, the moulds are already set out there for us. All we got to do is to identify the shape, reform the clay and put it in the certainly shaped boxes.
What is that really supposed to mean? It clearly does mean that no new shape would ever be formed. How many times on Earth have we ever actually found a perfectly shaped cube or sphere to be beautiful? How many times have we ever found a flawless and amazingly shaped cuboid to be intriguing? The answer to that is not ‘rarely’; the answer to that is ‘never’. Never has the human eye ever loved perfection. Never has a human heart been moved by perfection. It’s always imperfection that leaves us all mesmerised. Every time we look at something that is nothing but distorted in a certain manner, something inside of us makes all of our blood rush to our hearts and ignite some strange sort of happiness. Yet again, every single time, there is a path already set for us, that, as per to their own minds, has got no troubles on it. They believe that the paths they set are what make us walk on pure and beautiful marble floors that feel enlightening against our feet. Never have they ever given a thought whether we even wish to walk on that floor or not.
It’s not known to anyone at all who has walked over the hurting twigs and stones or over burning flames. No one will ever know to what extent does it happen that we get marble floors or forest fires. Who can tell it absolutely that what we got was soft carpets or itchy twigs. It’s all relative you see. Nothing is ever absolute.
One, thing, though, we have fortunately been taught is that whatever happens, we are always allowed to fight. Whatever happens, we are always allowed to raise our voices high, when it just goes to a place where controlling it is not an option, and get what we deserve. We have sure been taught to work towards what we want. And so it indeed happens that there does come a time when we must introspect to who we really are and know our own minds as much as we can. Anything in there should never be left unknown. Anything in there should never be lest unexplored.
Finding who we really are is the treasure we are all born to play. The final destination, though, is something that’s not achieved by all. The rare few who do get through it have a hard time sticking to what they won for everything comes at a price. It really hurts to hold the trophy in one’s hands as a consequence of which, loads end up giving it up really soon. That gives rise to an explanation as to why there are a particular few who are seen behind the golden cup.
As children, all of us are made to play with play-doh, the clay we are allowed to mould into anything we’d ever like, however as we grow up, that is taken away from us for they know it that as we grow up, we might end up making more meaningful things which sure isn’t a part of the so-called perfect world they wish to create out there. It’s however, though, in our own strength, as to how long can we fight for it and keep with ourselves. It’s in our hands to make whatever we wish to out of the play doh of our share.
It’s our choice to stay awake later in the nights until dawn breaks, to work towards what our sculpture must look like and keep doing that unless we finally do get what we wanted.
The other aspect that is as important too is to keep holding the cup once achieved. However, one should never be as rigid to hold the cup upright. That might just make the hands get into trouble with all the stagnance and pain. It’s up to us to never left the clay get converted to mud so it can never be reformed. Change is the only constant, have we learnt in all these years.
We must have hope that one day, all those late nights and early mornings we fought in, will pay us back with the reward we deserve.
Shubhrika is an emotional person and portrays that in her words. She is a coffee lover and hence an intrigued writer.
She loves to play with words and twist them as much as she can, that is her way of writing. But mostly, she loves creating suspense in her writing. She would never let the real story come out until the last part of her writings.
Writing is her life and her heartbeat.