I am staring at a blank page. To write, or not to!
Let it be the serene smell of a new book, or old one, it has
always fascinated me. How many of us write a journal on a daily basis? Many,
not many or most of us? Writing is a vent. It releases those blocked emotions
deep inside one’s mind. I had written a phase of my life in a dairy. The ups
and downs, the one’s whom I liked or disliked, the secret desire, wishes, ugly
truth. I had enclosed all my bitter-sweet memories. To tear it one day! Yes! I
did tear each and every page of that journal. Why? I had no answer to the
questions it might have raised. (In case if you read it) I am not answerable to
anyone for my emotions or reactions.
Can one really become like a protagonist portrayed in a
fiction? Can someone be an Ann Veronica? Can someone be a Dominique from The
Fountainhead? Beautiful, Charming and most of all Bold/Courageous! Surely there
are real life heroes around us. We just haven’t met them.
You cannot judge someone the way they look or by the life
they live. You don’t have the right to! Who knows the beautiful kohl eyes must
have cried their heart out!
I complain about my life most of the time. Does anyone here
do the same? Life’s beauty lies in imperfection. What is the point of living if
we have attained perfection? Each day we live, we work; we earn to have a
better tomorrow.
Every time I feel distressed, I make myself remind the
sayings of Einstein, Shakespeare, Buddha, Sheldon and Dr.Brennan (yes, they are
the most rational characters).
Life is not easy, because it was never meant to be easy! But
Life can be beautiful. How? I am sure you can answer it.
