Life is a notebook handed over to us the day we are born. We
are allowed to record our moments, to turn the pages as fast or as slow
as we want to, to pour out our heart on the empty white sheets. We are
allowed to sketch our dreams in all their myriad colors. Sometimes, it
also permits us to staple together those pages we do not ever want to
read again. But human as we are, we tend to go back. Life allows even
that-we can carefully remove the staples to have a quick peep once in a
while. This does include the risk of tearing the edges a little, but if
we are careful enough, we can prevent the damage. After all that's how
we introspect don't we---by removing the staples??!!
Life
is a notebook, and what we write in it is for us to decide. But one
thing is pre-decided. We are not allowed to write in pencil, because
words in pencil fade away. Scribbles in pencil can be rubbed off when
wanted. But life--it only allows us to write in dark ink. We can never
really wipe off what we have once written nor can we expect it to fade.
Yes, we can ignore it if we want to, but it stays right there. It's
almost always a 'you can run but you cant hide' scenario. Ripping off
pages is also futile, because eventually that will only end up loosening
the binding which will cause all the pages to scatter.
Life
is a notebook, and our job is to make notes along the way...notes which
will guide us in writing the subsequent pages, words which will bring
back memories as we flip the pages open, some chapters we manage to
close yet not complete, some scribbles which are too incomprehensible
for anyone to read, some poetry which the eye is not able to understand
yet the heart is able to recite, some experiences which we wouldn't
trade for even a thousand brand new books.
Yes, there would surely
be moments of hurt, pain, let down expectations, unfulfilled dreams,
pent up hatred as well, which definitely would bring a tear to the eye.
But
as we turn the pages we would realize how those experiences made us
stronger, how we emerged a winner against them, how we welcomed
happiness even after we thought we never could, and most importantly,
how we learnt to dream all over again. And after all, what is life
without a few challenges, and what is success without a few failures? Of
what use is a notebook if we weren't allowed to write in it?? The sheer
magic of life is in its unpredictability. It does not allow you to have
any clue today, what tomorrow's page would be like---tear stained, joy
filled, stapled, enthusiastic or blank!!
Life is a note
book, one which is very private and personal..one which only the owner
is supposed to read and write into. But as we fill in the pages with
details of our mundane life, we sometimes come across that special
someone who we can trust enough to hand over the book...someone who we
know will treasure it more than we do...someone we can put our whole
life at stake for..someone who teaches us the true meaning of love and
trust..and that is the time we start writing through someone else's
words. We dream through someone else's dreams. We see through someone
else's eyes. We begin to live another life in addition to our own...that
is when we stop writing and that thing called 'love' takes over,
filling in all the details by itself.
Life is a notebook,
one which will destroy itself when it comes to the last page. But the
pages written by love will still remain, flying free knowing no bounds,
speaking of the bond that is immortal thus bringing about a strange
sorta satisfaction...
a satisfaction that we made it even through the end!!
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P.S: My debut novel
'Twists Of Fate' is up for pre-order. Last few days remaining. You can check it out
here