There are certain days(rather nights) when you just let go off the present situation and relax. For me tonight is the time. Caught in a "fragile" web of competition and surfing every possible information on the internet in pursuit to keep up with fellow 'specialisation' mates, tonight I let go off all these inhibitions.
The monsoon rains pouring outside. Alone in the room. Soft music playing in the background. The dim light of the lamp sets the perfect mood for this special evening. My Jane Eyre is half-open, waiting to be read. The movie that I just enjoyed watching was brilliant. Thinking of how times change but in all this evolutionary events, I am the constant factor.
The song in the background talks about this distant star which shines alone in the night sky and grabs all the attention. The singer is mesmerized and jealous, at the same time and asks the star how can it steal the night's beauty and take all the pride? I wish I could describe the smile that I have on my face listening to it. I never enjoyed the song at other times, but at this point the lyrics are beautiful.
The classic I am reading took an adverse turn. I so wanted Jane and Mr. Rochester to get married and live happily ever after like the Grimm's fairy tales. But then it is more close to real life. Jane is standing at the crossroads of her life unknowing what the future has in store for her.
Finally, I don't know why I am writing this post. The flickering blue light of the laptop urged me to write something and I typed the words. Also, my friend exclaimed today of how I lack the avidity of a writer as I don't write about anything and everything. As other reality bites, even this remark hurts.
All said and done. It's a perfect candid night with a complete mood mutation.
Visiting Memory Lanes of History
13 years ago
3 comments:
very well written! :)
This is beautiful!
:D
forgive your friend. Don't let the box enveloping your friend's mind harm you.
If your friend thinks writing about everything and anything makes one an avid writer, i pity him/her. A writer is one who makes the smallest, simplest, most monotonous element seem amusing. And without eagerness to write about that very element, or anything, for that matter, the writer would never ever succeed in presenting a decent piece.
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