The escalators were not working. As I shifted my third luggage
on the 30th step by myself, I almost said to myself, “Am sorry, I can't carry it anymore”. It was half
past midnight after my flight landed back..and inspite of being in my own area, my own country, I was somewhere
else. The cool-dry breeze was swirling around me. It started to drizzle a bit and I sat in the
middle of the road overlooking my heavy bags.
How much we accumulate emotions and memories, and then carry
them with us. We leave out with 15kgs of luggage, and come back with 40 kgs in
our luggage and several tonnes in our mind.
We share so much, we trust so much, and yet our silence deepens.
Still we grab our collars to seek answers from self. Still we don’t hold our
self responsible for the filth we collect. Still we want justifications for
irrationalities. We demand logic in every illogical action.
In the middle of that moment, where Time was moving ahead
and my mind travelling back, I realised I was stand still. With none by my
side, it was my cold world.
Once again, I took refuge under my self-answering-question which always saves me
from such embarrassments and ask myself- "My dear, if not you, then who else?”
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