paint on the face

The pain thudded into my heart like a sharpened meteor. Before the clouds of dust could clear, another one slammed into my chest. Heartbeats have become a pain nowadays.

Sometimes I write on my blog, wanting to write like I used to. The leaves have not sprouted in a long time. Their greenness has turned yellowish brown.

People change colour everyday. Sometimes the change is so imperceptible that you can pass it off as mood swing. But if you can manage to look a little deeper into the murky water you would able to see the silhouettes of pebbles on the riverbed. It reminds me of a place known as Haridwar in North India.

I was lucky to be able to be in that place for 2-3 days. There were people around. Their presence had mattered to me then. But at this moment, my feelings toward them are not the same. Strangely with time, as the days passed by busily, I changed. They changed. So you see, I have actually changed colour.

When I look around me I see people. Colourful people. I see them changing colours. The most important action a person should perform each day is to look at himself in the mirror and see the colour change.

If someday he discovers that the changing has stopped, that day he would become a hero. He would be free.