The exile//
The ticktock rhythm of this cosmos is relative, I've been told. As I sit here to decode it, I realise that it was always right in front of us but we mostly failed to understand. The crossroads of life often make us come upon to places we don't wish to visit and rhythms we don't want to feel. The complexities of these rhythms is that they make us transcend into phases, each of which tell us that we are far away from home.
Growing up is an exile, we don't have any idea when it ends or where it ends. But slowly, we acknowledge the fact that growing up is nothing but a sugar-coated hoax of growing old. That's where we comprehend that time or the rhythms as we recall, has always been relative. In that exact moment of comprehension, we look back at our homes only to realise that there haven't been any.
But then, where have you been dwelling all this time?
-Pahi.
