* infinities * There was a boy who was confused about this art of writing. He believed that he would just need some dictionary storage and a little flair in appeasing the tenses to reap write ups on the paper. And there was this abysmal depth in him to devour novels, run over the famous quotes, to see a movie just because it had dialogues from the actual novel, to mull over the extended meanings. There were lines which had affected him deeply, “some infinities are greater than other infinities” and that a person who is suffering should justly be blessed with the bigger infinity. These were the lines that would harrow him that how will he ever be able to embellish such lines in his life time. He dreamed to write and just write. He would be happy when his write ups would be published, although on a small scale and would grab some applauds but then that one insecure corner of his heart would thud again whenever he would read a beautifully crafted write-up elegantly juggling with the words to spill out the feelings of the writer. Yes, he was sinking into this abyss. But he didn’t cease to write, he didn’t keep him away from reading, he didn’t stop to discern the simple feelings of the authors from their astutely crafted lines. Time passed, he kept writing. In actual, he kept mingling with every word, understanding them, listening to them while he would write. He came to know that how we are not bound to always crave for better when we have a beautiful life to peruse at. Its good to make the best of what we have, to listen to the tiniest entities of life because those are the infinities in which our lives are preserved. He lived while his life wrote the better of him. -- vaibhav
Posted on: Sat, 20 Dec 2014 21:36:49 +0000
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