Moving on…

Because when it finally comes to deciding whether I want to be happy or not, guess I still have the choice. To pick up the pieces that I want to. Our present is like a photo album, where we place pictures from our past. There were some moments full of joy and then some not so great; moments that still make me smile, and moments that still cause a soft pain, a gentle reminder, like a child poking in your ribs and asking you to wake up.

And this is where I pick up the snaps I want to keep. My past is certainly not in my control anymore. But what I do with that past, is entirely (well, almost) upto me. I can choose to either savor the times I spent with my closest companions, or fret and fume about moments when I was away from them.

And so as I move ahead, I will decide cautiously and consciously to relish the more worthy moments. I suppose this is how I would like my life to be. A life that treads softly upto me, like the sudden autumn wind that surprises the fallen leaves; that disturbs the reverie of the silent lake, with a short, rippling dance.

Of course, it’s easier said than done; times when you realize that computers are perhaps the happiest entities on this planet. Just one “delete” and it’s gone. No pain, no suffering, and its over. Not like us. Humans. We hold on to those broken blades till we don’t know how much we have bled.

But still, I will try to throw the blades away. I’ll forget the blood that I’ve drained. Will stop looking at those wounds that won’t heal. Will instead make this attempt to look at what’s left of me. To go ahead with it.
To meet Life. Like a long-lost friend. To say Hello after all these years. This time, with both hands. And even a hug perhaps; for there are no suitcases that I am carrying. No backpacks full of ragged dolls. It’s just me. And my Life. And the road ahead…