Sand...

I am back after a few months of silence. Well, the months have not been silent in themselves though... I have heard words which were almost never spoken, I have heard sounds which no one made efforts to create, I have sensed feelings which I perhaps never knew existed in such extreme contours.

They have been like sand in one's palm. Now that I think about it, an amazing creation of nature it is, sand is, at once a singular mass with commanding weight of its own, and at another moment split into plural fragments that vanish slowly yet steadily, much like moments from time's clenched fists. Akin it is to my feelings in last few weeks... sometimes sitting so heavy in my heart that it is difficult to breathe, and in another instant sliding away like a drop of dew from a petal... as if the petal was not its home through the beautiful night.

Looking back, it just seems too rich an experience to fret about, too intimate a feeling to wish away. Yet, I struggle with the meaning of it, I wish I could make a sense of it as I have on numerous other occasions, I yearn so tumultous a period could leave me with learnings I could immediately see. I don't hold much in my hands, not at the moment at least. And yet I feel all the grains of sand have not slipped off my palm just as yet... that I am richer having seen such an edginess of nature, that I have a greater repertoire of emotions, though I may never have consciously bargained for it.

I am glad I wrote as much and I am glad to be back to face myself. Let's take the story forward...