In life there are many incidents where you feel empty and hollow. Feeling emptiness and making you stranded, unable to take any step further has been one unwanted emotion I experienced so far. I don't know how I would justify naming this emotion but at least I would label it as missing than being dismayed. I find difficult to control myself when I miss someone from my life. There were many times I missed someone and I want to reflect one now.
Whoever said this, "Don't judge a book by its cover," had not been much different to me in any way. When my circle of friends called me a name that meant I possessed a heart of stone, I started to question myself and my existence and my flow of thoughts. I looked in the mirror and saw how grievous I was. There was not even the trail of line stretched to smile and smiling was what I did not do. Indeed, I concluded my friends called me by my appearance and saw a hope to remain in the circle but a sting of pain came to me when none understood who I really was.
Inside this serious-looking man has a heart as soft and gentle as mother's love.
When I fell in love for the first time I knew how to miss a person. I missed her in the evenings when I went from school; I missed her in my pillow when I felt difficult to sleep; I missed her when I read a fairytale; I missed her when I saw a movie of a hero meeting his lady; I missed her when I laughed with my friends. I missed her in my every beat and breath.
I missed her when she left school for medical treatment. I saw her getting in the bus, her face turned pale and dark, and when she waved her hand to her friends I cried from the room that I furtively peeped her all through. It twisted my heart and everything started to fade. I was a soulless person crippled from feelings, without imagination and meaning in life. For me there was no sun at day and any stars or moon at night. I was a lost man on earth.
With age I have known little definition of life. I have learnt that life has only one goal, a goal to be happy. And I have also learnt that happiness does not come easy. Like an old man stitching a rug from his thick lens, I learnt to segregate and sieve the best I could. I have abundance of happiness in my life if I don't mention the struggle I faced to achieve those.
Why do I remember her today? Why is my heart still going strong to hold her back? Why do I feel stripling a teenager again?
(Going on tour with my officers from today to a place I had seen her long time back.)
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