How often?

You know what; I fear to remain idle for sometime, as then it will be invitation to those thoughts which I fear even more. But still, I often sit idle, I often invite those thoughts. Thoughts of my things, my life, my sins, my friends and myself.

I often sit and realize it is ‘too’ late. I often close my eyes and realize the dreams which are not possible. I often go back to the places where I never wanted to be. I often pick dust in my hands and try to hold it tighter. The more I try, the more of it slip off from my hand. It is dust of my past, the dust of my love, the dust of my friendship.

The books I never wanted to read, I often re-open them, and discover dried leaves and flowers, I often go back to the time when they were green and young .

For most of the time, I keep windows and doors of my room closed. But I often open the door to let the sunlight in. Yes, sunlight brings the strong memory of joy and sorrow with it. I often open the window of my room when I am sad. How often, I realize that I should have never ever closed the door.

It happens most of the time, I go back to the table where me and my friend sat. We often talk about the things we never found worth sharing. I often smile, then somehow my sight diverts towards the scenery out the window and I realize it’s all over and I believe my friend never wanted to talk to me.

I often listen to the sounds of footsteps coming towards my room. I often run and open the door; I re-discover someone who was angry with me has come. Come, yes, finally not come to let me realize he is still angry.

I often turn back and check if some shadow is following me. I often feel someone like me is walking with me. What is this all, how often I feel I am still alive?


Life has no rewinds and forwards, it unfolds itself at its own pace. So never miss a chance to live today to make a beautiful story for tomorrow.


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