Rising from Ashes

I broke myself. I was exhausted. I panted. I tore myself apart. I ran to him. In hope he’d embrace me. And he pulled himself apart. Unaware of what was wrong. Unable to help. He stood there, watching me struggle. Trying his best to pull me up from where I’d fallen. And he was about to give up. And I was afraid of just that. I crashed down. Upon the floor. I heaved a sigh. I convinced myself to stop. I convinced myself to die.

Don’t get me wrong. This wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t want to wither away into nothingness. I didn’t want to lose myself in the uncertainty. But inadvertently, I had lost myself. My significance ceased to operate. And his, swivelled up into greater and inauspiciously gratuitous levels.

I was drowning. A strange mist surrounded me. It blinded me. It embraced me. It guided me to somewhere I’d never intended to set foot on. It constricted me. I felt suffocated. I looked back at all the colour. The rouse. I felt it flush inside me.

Running away was never an option. But I was running away from myself. I was running back to nowhere.

It was time to trace back my steps. It was time to go back to my calling. No, it was time to find my calling. Every single moment, I found myself fighting, to find a newer me. But what I realized was that it wasn’t a struggle. It was supposed to be a beautiful journey. I closed my eyes in fear, that the darkest hour was approaching, but I didn’t realise that it had already passed.

So I opened them for once. I opened them to see an entirely new world around me. And he wasn’t there, but there, was I. On my way to finding myself, I guess I’d lost him. But that didn’t bother me. He couldn’t have gone too far. I got up. I had to rise from the ashes. What seemed dark and deadly was bright and peculiarly empty. It felt light. It felt like I was starting from scratch. I knew I had to fit one thing at a time back into my life. And I knew I had to make it better than ever before.

Life suddenly stopped being fitting myself into someone else’s. Life was about finding someone who fitted only too easily. Just like earlier times. When he’d sway by and argue and gush secrets and ponder over his future, and I over mine. It was only when I led mine and he led his, our lives weren’t entangled. They fitted together. Things fell into place. Life was not about struggling to meet ends. It was not about forcing things into places you thought were right for them. It was about waiting for them to come to you on their own. You just need to do things you are good at. And be happy.

I felt the wind blow past. I saw a fuller and serene place. And then I saw an ordinary street. It fitted itself miraculously in the mesmerizing visual. It actually looked like the place I wanted to be. There was a guy standing there. All alone. His back turned at me. He seemed to be standing in the middle of the road. Wondering where the road would lead him, I supposed. I tapped him on his shoulder, in curiosity. And he turned to me. It was him. Him. It struck me, how the very ordinary street seemed so securely beautiful. It was a place we’d been to, before.  I’d lost him in the mess. And he had found his way out before I could. He told me he had been waiting for me. And now that we were both out of the mess, we could find out our way together.

The future is very uncertain. No point being scared of something that might or might not happen. You can’t expect someone to pull you out of your funk. But there will be a guy, waiting for you at the brink. Ready to offer you his hand when you’re about to reach him. But till that point, you’ll have to make your way through.

And trust me, it’s not that tough. Just think of the best that can happen to you, and work towards it. In the best possible way. Keep faith. Keep hope. You can always hope something amazing happens. But don’t keep it too distinct. The future is a hazy picture. What you do in the present is what makes it clear.

And so there it was. It died a peaceful death. It was done away with. She should never have to come back. She was frail. She knew she was dying. But I have a new me, in place. And I hope she’s better than the previous one. I want to give this one the chance to breath. The one chance I’ve denied her for ages.

Let’s take a chance with life. It’s all about chances isn’t it? And somehow, it ALWAYS works out for the best. And this time, like every other, I just know it will.