Morning is nearing

           This blog is dedicated to the person who wishes not to be mentioned.

Each and every-time I finish writing some stuff, there are a group of people with whom I would share, just to get their feedback. Some would fake that it’s awesome and some would point the weak element and many would never reply, maybe because they are too busy or maybe because they don’t give a fuck about me. But every-time I write a new blog, I wish that I would never boil the same oil but sometimes it happens, maybe I am forced to write things by my surrounding.

I was sitting alone in my room, dead silence prevailed which was interrupted by my whats-app beep. I did not mind that and continued to think about how my life had turned into a mess, how I had spoiled with my own hands, how I allowed people to make the person who I am, how I cared people who never cared a fuck about me, how I loved people who never wished to see my face. Thoughts kept queuing up and all I could do was sit on my couch and look into my own hands and think how it all happened.

Few minutes later, I got a knock on the door, I imagined that it would be mom or dad to ask me whether I had finished learning for my exam, I walked slowly and opened the door, to my surprise, it was my friend (I wish I could tell her name, but I made a promise that I wouldn't). As soon as she came in, she slapped me (ouch, still it hurts). ‘What the hell were you doing without attending the call?’ She asked me in anger. I took my mobile; there were 6 missed calls and 20 whats-app text. I opened, it was from her.

I asked sorry and said that I was lost in my thoughts. Seeing me dull she asked what had happened.

‘Sometimes I feel that I would never reach my destination’ I said without looking at her.

‘Why do you think so’ She said and placed her hand on my shoulder.

 I got up and stood by the window, I looked outside just to avoid her eye contact, but what struck me was a beautiful sunset, but I knew that even my dreams were fading away like the sun

‘It has been four year since I have fixed my destination and going by that, but now I feel that I have lost my destination as none of my efforts seems to take me closer’ I said trying to sound as normal as possible.

She stood beside me, took my hand into hers , held it firm and said, ‘Destination are often not lost by the distance we had walked to reach them, they are lost in the moment we give up on walking assuming that we have lost it’

Maybe there is nothing called as darkness, it’s just the absence of light. Maybe there is nothing called as sadness, it’s just the absence of happiness. Maybe there is nothing called as failure when decide on not giving up.

She came close to me and said, ‘look, the sun is setting’.

I looked into her eyes for the first time that evening and said, ‘look, I think the morning is nearing’

She was happy by my words, I was happy for her smile.

P.S: Of all the friends I have, she is the first person who used to read and comment on my writing, thank you for just being there for me.