Skip to main content

Ecstasy

He always thought there was a little haste in her walk. The way she sped, as if she were running from something. Something by one glance at her face indicated to him, the kind of ecstasy he hadn't seen anywhere.

Greeting everyone, as she came through the hallway, he stared. He looked, and he looked till he gave up looking. Something kept him bound to her. He was always happy he had her. As that is what he thought loving her meant.

However, having her wasn't enough for him. He wanted more. All the eyes gazing at his star- to be taken off of it.

He tried his best. He did all he could to encapsulate the shine of her spirit, the brilliance of her charm, and her poise.

It worked. It did. But, it stopped the moment she realised. Realised her ecstacy. Her shine.

All boundaries swept aside, as she walked the ramp of her excellence, for her routine, is what the audience wished and longed for.

That was the day he realised, the haste in her walk was her flight from who she was. The light that scared her, was what she was running from, and that that shine that bound them, was her salvation.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The monotony of being different

All my life I was told I am different. Sometimes it was appreciated, sometimes not so much.  I was told I had energy unparalleled, sometimes appreciated, other times not. Some people tell me how much they admired me, some said I couldn’t be understood.  Ever since I was a child, I was told being different is good.  In school, I was told different people tend to make better lives for themselves. In movies, I was shown that the protagonist is always, well, different.  These notions influenced my perspective towards life, making me crave the feeling of being different. Having said that, I was never treated like I was different, challenging my notion of me being “different”. However, sometime back I realized that I was never treated like I was different because no one wanted me to know how different I am.  Every time something nice happened to me, every time I said something exceptional, people tried to normalize how exceptional these things were. That is when I cou...

Privilege and Burden

The crown isn't just a mere ornament to be worn, it's a privilege and a burden.  For you sit with your head high, the crown embellished with precious stones, while the others bow. Privilege.  But, you can not look down, for even a slight tilt of the head, can make you lose the crown. Burden.  For you can wave and smile when thousands gather around to get just one glimpse of you. Privilege.  But you can't laugh your heart out when you find something funny in front of those same people. Burden.  But it's rare to find a person who can do both. The crown has the final say in everything yet the bearer of the crown doesn't have a voice.  But the true monarch can't be just anybody, because the bearer of the crown might be a puppet of these strings, but a monarch is one who controls everything. Smile when they have to, laugh when they want, hold their heads high when they have to but tilt their heads in disagreement when they want to.  Privilege and burden exi...