I wonder when was the last time that a post on my blog got
written by itself. I wish this one did. Words used to flow out on their without
stressing too much. But they won’t anymore, for I find it difficult to drift
like I did before with my expressions. Age, perhaps.
Life is fleeting. And I’m trying to make the most out of it.
There are certain things in life, small and insignificant,
yet so beautiful that they fill your heart with an unexplainable warmth and
ecstasy. For me the past few weeks have been about scurrying for such moments
and savoring them before it’s time to leave for the next big change. The
uncertainty and apprehension from couple of months back have slowly made way to
longing and a sense of nostalgia which I believe will stick around for more
time than welcome.
Life isn’t a novel. It doesn’t always have to be segmented
in chapters. These do not necessarily have to have a reason for everything.
Sometimes it’s absolutely fine to not have the next step defined. It’s okay to
not have a conclusion, a punctuation, or a period to sum it all up and complete
the story.
Speaking of my story- after being asked almost daily by a
dozen people about my “plans”, I have decided to leave town before heading off
to the next phase. Will spend a couple of months at home, hopefully, to cool
off and gather myself with renewed energy. I’m extremely skeptical of this as I
write, since staying idle and not having anything to do is not the kind of
routine I have ever envisaged for myself. But currently, everything is moving
too fast to make any sense, and this seems like the best thing to do. To plug
out.
I have a little over 50 days left in this town. Who thought
getting out would be umpteen times more difficult than getting in!
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