Those Times When I Sit And Think

There have been times when I have felt this sudden urge to disseminate the fragments of my soul throughout the world and beyond. The need to see through my soul if not through my eyes grows profound each time when I contemplate about it more and more. It has left me thinking of those times when I was confined within the walls of my little world. The world where only basicity could have possibly survived. The world where freedom to such ideas as creativity was never voiced. This ‘mundane’ world with its ‘mundane’ routine never did let the wings of my aspirations spread, but cut them so they could never scale the horizons. This emptiness, where falling of even a single drop of tear could be heard, engorged every bit of my soul. This darkness, where even a hope of light was futile, engulfed the light of my soul. This misery, which kept on tormenting me (and still torments me), shattered every bit of me that I may not gather myself again.

How tormenting has all this become, I keep on thinking. How my naive soul has fallen a victim of such a circumstance, I keep on thinking. How can I gather the fragments of my soul again so that it may not lose itself to this vicious world once again, I keep on thinking.

Where to begin and when to begin, I question myself all the time. I know that it would take a thousand of myself to rise at all, and perhaps even a million to emerge victorious. But I would not let these numbers thwart me. I would not accept defeat even when I know the chances of my winning are almost negligible. I would not let my courage fail, my hope disappear, my will sway, and my soul lose in this war between good and evil.

I will feed the resistance with the power of my will. I will even challenge the challenges that may crop up while walking on this harsh path. And I will certainly not accept defeat even when the chances of my winning fall beyond negligible, because all this is not a mere game of numbers but a test of human hope that sees beyond unseen and fetches beyond farfetched.

To say only hope would suffice is futile. Courage and willpower go hand in hand with hope, and even arm in arm when the time comes, and shoulder to shoulder and neck to neck also in that same time. It is with this combined power that I shall rise again and win. And even if I’m defeated then I will rise yet again and strive, and continue to do so till I see the fruits of my labour. The fruits which a hungry soul enthusiastically longs for to ripe that it may feed its hunger but which also satisfy its hunger that it will feel hungry no more. Such are the fruits of one’s labour and I will definitely reap such fruits, that’s what I keep on thinking now.