WordWorship

" A man seeks employment on a farm. He hands his letter of recommendation to his new employer. It read simply, 'He sleeps in a storm'. "The owner is desperate for help, so he hires the man. "Several weeks pass, and suddenly, in the middle of the night, a powerful storm rips through the valley. "Awakened by the swirling rain and howling wind, the owner leaps out of bed. He calls for his new hired hand, but the man is sleeping soundly. "So he dashes off to the barn. He sees, to his amazement, that the animals are secure with plenty of feed. "He runs to the field. He sees the bales of wheat have been bound and are wrapped in tarpaulins. "He races to the silo. The doors are latched, and the grain is dry. "And then he understands. 'He sleeps in a storm.' "                                                               ...

I walked a mile with Pleasure; She chatted all the way; But left me none the wiser For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow, And ne'er a word said she; But, oh! the things I learned from her, When Sorrow walked with me.                                                                                                       No, these lines are not by me. Oh!!! If only they were!!! 

There were times when the feeling was not there - a fleeting moment of consciousness, of awareness, a feeling of weightlessness as fit had been a feather on her chest, and not a boulder. She had seen that form before. She was sure of it. She knew that shape well. Where, where was it? Two years, four years ago? No, no... it was way more recent. It had been there just a week back.

He was always there. Everyday I would find him there, the corner near the entrance. In fact, everyone, who commuted via the station, did.

Everybody has a confidante in their lives. A friend, a mentor, a parent, a pet - one can find them in all forms. I, too, have a circle of friends who kept me whole when my own self had given way. But few days back, I realised I had a confidante without even knowing that I did.

Days traditionally have been very well documented. When to start, how to go about, best way to end - the possibilities are endless. One can fill volumes with the quotes and quips exciting us about the same. For me however, night is way more fascinating. It is dark, deep, mysterious and , above all, mocking of us - much like our real self that comes out then.

And once again you came out. A single moment of let go, an instant of lowered defenses, an unguarded response and there you were crowding me all over again - me, my mind and all my memories. When shall I have have the freedom I so crave for? Maybe the day I stop looking for the shackles, maybe. And till then?