LIFE is a story. Each one of us, wherever we are or whatever we are doing, is writing out a scene in a chapter, through the words that leave our mouth or the extra dose of coffee we drink in the late hours.
But this story is not mine nor is it theirs. It is yours.
And in the beginning, there was a statement. “I am lost.”
Also, in the beginning, there was a question. “What do I do?”
I lifted my eyes to the steaming cup of tea in front of me and knew exactly what to say. For all the questions ever asked by you, I always had different sets of answers: ones that speak volumes to how I really feel and ones that you wanted to hear. And over time, I learned to condition myself which among them to pick in which situations.
“I know that you know,” I said.
Tick. I knew that was coming. A six-lettered word that has become a prelude to a conversation that begets a lot of convincing, a plant whose seeds were derived from the finest that demands all the light in this world just to thrive. By then, I knew that you weren’t ready. So, I readied myself to accept that you weren’t.
Imagine the wildest man you know and picture him asking you for directions to a destination only he knows. Now, imagine him asking you to drive him to that destination.
“Tell me, how would you feel about that?” I asked him.
“I don’t know.”
This is a story about believing in uncertainties and the man that taught me how. And the one who is embodying it still. You meet different kinds of people and sometimes you meet someone who seems distant but has always been there. And will always stay there, at a space between your fingers or at a corner of your mind.