This time has had people thinking a lot about our being, about the way we take up space in this world and about the way we exist. This quarantine has brought people down to the height of solitude where one usually starts pondering on the life they’re living and why?
I hate what we become with time – machines, who simply go on and about their regular life in a set routine, scared of the change, without thinking that what’s more important is this present moment in which you exist. We keep regretting the past and worrying about future and somewhere in between we forget to live. What we ignore is the fact that life happens in these small moments of present.
Amidst this chaos of past present and future, I miss my childhood. I miss those days when counting stars didn’t seem impossible coz we weren’t aware of the fact that missing out is a thing. Those were the days when we used to believe we can do everything and anything if we believe we can without realising that no matter how much you try, you still can’t do everything. I miss those days when we could sleep till the sun kissed us morning without the fear of getting late and loosing an opportunity. Those were the days when we weren’t afraid of moving on knowing that we have time and that, will definitely own the next opportunity. We think that we have time and there will always be a second chance, but do we really have time? Do we really always get another chance? I miss those days when we used to be excited for our bedtime stories and used to prep ourselves up to enter the dream world without being aware of the fact that when maturity hits, the same world will crumble down into rubbles and will be haunted by our own demons of the dark. I miss running after the butterfly with a flower in hand, wishing and hoping that it would sit on it someday. I miss the time when everything used to excite us, when today, nothing actually does it. I miss that innocence we all have as a child but something that drowns in the chaos of life.
Last modified: July 11, 2020
