There are little things we all love... The smaller world lives under our eyes; do we just ignore it? Or, do we distance ourselves from it? Some do really believe in them.
Here is a collection of pages from diaries of YOUNG ADULTS who see the smaller...
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If you ever wanna find a nice, decent and normal teenager, then you are at the right place. By 'normal' I mean a teenager who is acting her age properly, that is, as she should, like all other teenagers. That means, of course, less concentration in studies, more social networking, choosing weird combinations of ice-cream in the ice-cream parlor (like fruits and nuts with mint or strawberry with chocolate) or, maybe, noticing the joy in small things. If I am a 'normal' teenager, then are you not one? Or, maybe, were you not? Well... of course you are/were in your own way... My name is Gwen and I am a to-be-fifteen-in-a-month year old girl, trying my best to score, what my parents call, a "proper" marks in Mathematics. I got an A+ in my language tests, social studies and science. But I have never ever made it more than just and A in mathematics. I feel it is a great score but my parents does not.
Anyway, I am an 'attention deficit' person. There I was, sitting on my mat-cum-carpet, reading a bunch of theorems from the chapter 'Circles' cuz', the next day I had my Mathematics exam. I finished reading the proof and explanation of the third theorem which said how the perpendicular from the center of the circle bisects the chord and so and so. Then I looked up; a part of the veranda was visible in front of me. All the verandas in my house are like huge cages. but the designed railings lightens up the mood of the cage-type-veranda look less like cage. There was a madhabilata creeper that runs in between the verandas of our house. A bit of the golden sun's rays that had escaped through the green leaves, hit the mosaic floor directly. It was a winter morning and it was only four hours old, so the day was still young and its hotness was mild and comfortable. The obstructive leaves etched disoriented shapes on the veranda floor and slowly my eyes traveled along a thin shiny and bloody trail; small figures were moving along that shifting trail. There were small red ants, crawling very fast in a single file, like a river of red. Well, it was not exactly red because they had a blurry black spot on their rear 'end' and that is what makes them scary. To me, it seems to be a metaphor. You know the Devil, right? His composition is of red and black with horns and an arrow tipped tail and blah blah blah; just like those ants. I bet the devil was imagined by a group of people who were victims of the noxious bites of those small red and black ants and forgot about their human-ness after they got bitten!
I like 'bad'; but that doesn't mean I like bad ants even if I actually do. And by bad ants, I mean, ant that bite. But still, I watched the ants, scurrying on their minute hairy legs. I felt my beating heart calm down, and it was like I got rid of the lead-y heaviness inside me. And you know what? When you least expect something to happen to you, it happens and the you feel it and go on with your life, carrying the burden of that feeling even though it is not so burdensome to you even though it actually is. It felt good... It felt... um... REFRESHING! My mind and soul were calm and I sat there on my seat, all relaxed, with me legs crossed. I felt energetic.
The ants seemed much more energetic than me because they were actually brimming with energy all over their body. And they seemed everything but certainly not calm. They were restless like my soul and they were sturdy like my sleep. They were going in and out of some small holes, not easily visible, that I have never seen before; the holes were in the wooden door frame, close to the floor. Some of the ants were taking crumbs of food to their headquarter for storage while others were busy keeping their act of being busy.
I swear I could have watched them all day long but I just couldn't. Because watching them, those lowly developed animals of phylum arthropoda, irritated me. How can such an animal ever be so energetic? Whereas I, a mammal, feel lazy enough only to complete three theorems of Circle! I wanted to show them that I was busy too, even though I knew that the ants were so busy that they won't pay me a bit of attention, I still took my eyes off those magnificent little creatures and restarted my revision. By twelve thirty my revision was finished. With a triumphant face, I looked up to see the ants. They were still crawling busily on cold floor, the rays of sun had long shifted away; the trail they had maintained before ceased its existence and slowly the number of ants were decreasing. From a colony, it was only a dozen or so ants now. The traffic at the holes were no more. I got up, stretched my arms and started wrapping up the mat and putting my books, haphazardly, on the moldy shelves; then I took my towel and went for a warm bath. I am a quick bather; I was out in fifteen minutes, my hair shampooed and conditioned, my legs shaved and arm-pits waxed and my body washed in soap twice. I got into my shorts and shirt, combed my hair and went towards the door. I knelt down and looked for the ants; not a single damned ants were there. It was like all of them had suddenly disappeared! But then it struck me; they might have gone for a warm wintry bath under the glowing sun, taking a short break from their long, hard work; relaxing and chatting among themselves.
