To lie on her back and look at the stars. To sing aloud off tune with a couple of friends. To venture out as and when she feels like. To dance her heart out at her secluded retreat. To have those random food and selfie sprees with her best buds. Those little pleasures, about which she had forgotten of, were coming back to her. Life had given her a heavy layered, but nonetheless, very pretty dress to handle. Hard to breathe in, hard to walk in. But she knew she had to walk the ramp, managing to infuse all the more grace and beauty possible. So she had started to gather the folds of her dress. She had to get up and get going.
All the times that she was distraught, broken or gloomy; she had learnt a lot of lessons. She had known love and friendship and their cross breeds and hybrids. And she had learnt that just because you love someone doesn't mean you like them or approve of them. She knew that one negative thought about a person or any doubt regarding their character,simply means mistrust, which in turn leads to unconcern. And that one person becomes a lost chapter in the book.
All the times that she was distraught, broken or gloomy; she had learnt a lot of lessons. She had known love and friendship and their cross breeds and hybrids. And she had learnt that just because you love someone doesn't mean you like them or approve of them. She knew that one negative thought about a person or any doubt regarding their character,simply means mistrust, which in turn leads to unconcern. And that one person becomes a lost chapter in the book.
And they are still
there, it’s only that one doesn’t know what to make of them and thus the lost
chapter. And she had been a lost chapter to many. A subject of disapproval and
dislike to quite a few too; while being an object of affection. He was one of
them too. She was his ‘object’ of affection and he read her too; inside out.
But no longer did it concern him whether what page of the book he was on. Or so
she presumes. And still, every time that she thinks of Intimacy, it’s his face
that passes through her mind. Amongst all the lazy whispers and kisses, the
memories of his lightest touch arrest her body into numbness. And she was done
with this. She didn’t want love that was pitiful. Love that was full of
inacceptance. She didn’t need those sorts of people at all. People who were
unsure, judgmental, threatened of their own sanctity.
And she had to be her
own star, Dance in the rainy storm, Sing her own tune. She didn’t need another
lead character. And thus the stars and the selfies and the out of tune songs.
Because life might be out of tune too but she had found the fun in it.
- ThatGirl.Again
