I hear it. The ruffling of the pages on my desk, not so far from the rustling of dry leaves. The books, articles, unfinished drafts of the assignments, all staring back at me, mocking me with their emptiness. I can hear them.
To the majority of us, life has always been a little rocky, pushing us to the brink of our limits, and always making us believe that, this is how life is. The pages are still turning, still reminding me. It's not going to be easy.
We are always made to believe, tiring ourselves out, making grave sacrifices, malking on fire, is the way we succeed. Life is a race, isn't it? A floozy, cut throat, one-winner race.
I haven't touched my planner in weeks. And yet I know what to do, like a lifeless routine. It's so ironic, Emptiness is when there is nothing remains and yet I have filled myself with it. Felt till the veins of my blood, exhaustion is no longer paid heed to.
But I can't give up; like an ocean wave. Which comes so close to the shore. Travelling for miles. Only to fall back and blend in with the ocean like the other ripples. I have to go on, not because I am caught up in this whirlwind, because I have to gratify the old me, who worked so hard to get here. Who worked in hope that the future would be kinder. But why was it at the cost of losing myself?
And that's when I decided to pick my pen and put thought to ink, because if there is somebody out there, just being present and not living, I hope they understand, that taking a little step backwards won't do any harm. It's okay, to loosen our reins and breathe a little. And its okay; if a mountain seems too big to conquer. You can let time pass, and see yourself smile. And it's okay, if you want to live
Rather than just exist.
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