Realization

The silhouette in the mirror staring back at me could be the relic of the past, or the progeny of the discrepancies of the two different worlds I belonged to. I lived in my Utopia, where I am Me, or the other way round, a world of others, where I am just one among the monotonous faces that fakes smile. The significance of change glared at me and an inner churning of my heart asked me to leave the cocoon in which I suffocated myself all these years. Although late, I realized, nothing stays...not even our own shadows. May be I sound weird, may be not. But I don't care, care for what my position is, in the mundane crowd busy pecking at the baited crumbs offered by the world. I see them being strangled in the web of life, quite brutally.

May be it is the awakening of the subjugated self, deep down in me, and I wonder why I did not pine for originality hitherto, but lived in the reality faked by each person I encountered. It is indeed tragic not to follow our heart. Yeah, I know, swimming against the tide is difficult, really difficult, but flowing involuntarily with the tide is way stupid. Everyone, even a dead animal can do the same. But what I intend to do require will-power, realization of who I am and what I ought to be.