Straws

I  am walking through a dull lifeless plain. I have reached here after braving a turbulent storm.  Out of nowhere a single piece of straw comes flying by on the breeze that has picked up suddenly. I look at the straw and try to ignore it. But it persists in my field of vision. And the more I see it, the greater the urge to build my little nest.

I reach for that piece of straw. It comes tantalisingly close. I hold to it. I have caught it! It is a new beginning. And I suddenly feel hopeful of a new start. I hold on to that little piece of straw for dear life.

The breeze has now picked up. My straw seems to have a life of its own. It flutters out of my grasp. But I grab hold once more. As I clutch at that little straw flying about in the wind, hoping that it will help me build my home, the wind plays pitch and toss once more. And there…my little piece of straw has flown just out of my reach. And with it, my hopes of building my little arbour fly away too.

I wail. I cry. I nearly give up. I mourn the loss of my little piece of straw. And then what do I see when I dry my eyes? My little piece of straw is still fluttering in the wind. It floats on a thermal, it dances in the breeze. It is within my field of vision and yet just out of my reach.

Shall I be presumptuous enough to believe that it was meant for me? Or should I view it as a symbol of Hope that there will be an entire bale of straw for me to rest on just a little way further? Or should I just think of it as a reminder that clutching at straws, no matter how small, will one day help me gather enough to build a home?

I don’t know what to make of it.

But for now, I will clutch at straws. And one day I may have enough to rest my head on and dream happy dreams.

I am not the girl I was anymore

Life has taken its toll on me. And I am not the same old me.
Obviously.
The hourglass has voided itself a million times and each grain of sand that it contains has carried with it so many emotions and experiences. And so I cant possibly still be who I was 40 years ago.

40! That magical number! Two scores, four decades,  ten leap year cycles, forty monsoons….call it what you will. Its like a call to all that have been wearied by life to come and live again.
When I crossed that first magical number -16- in terms of age, I told myself that I would do something “different” in the 40th year of my life. And I did!!

I learnt who my true friends were.
I learnt the value of friendship, gratitude, goodwill and compassion.
And above all, I learnt to live.
I cant thank those who motivated me to come this far. It was only at their insistence that I could even dream of myself in my new life.

And very strangely, while memories linger on of the people and places that were a part of my past, none of these memories are tinged with regret.
I believe that one should not live with regret. Each experience is vital in making us who we are today and in who we might have to become tomorrow.
I am now ready to embrace the newness of each moment in my newness. I am looking forward to seeing new places, meeting new people and learning new truths about life.

Today I celebrated my 40th birthday. The love I recieved made me realise how blessed I am.

Life has changed me in so many ways that, I really am not the same any more!!

Life really has taken its toll on me. And I just am not the same old me, forever more!!!