While trying so hard to study for my exams tomorrow, I stumbled upon an envelope in my messy cupboard and out fell little pink and white seashells.
I often muse over the trip I made to meet my best friend, quite a long time back. While I remember how he had picked up seashells from the sandy beach and slipped them into my pocket; I had forgotten having saved them in a safe corner of my closet. The sight of them floods me with memories and all my attempts to concentrate on the unfinished portion go in vain. Sigh.
Distance has always been my worst comrade. I despise it, curse it and always charge it guilty for times when I am glum. I don’t know if I’ll ever befriend it but the same hatred for it has, through the years, given me such beautiful memories that it’s absence could never have provided. When I look back and ponder over the moments that describe the word “perfect” to me, I realize that they were all transitory: lasted a day or two at their best and were never consistent. And the perfection happened with the people that lest for those moments, are always miles away.
More often than not, I am whining about how unlucky I am. But years later, I hold a piece of the beach I once set foot on and I know that maybe if it weren’t for luck I would never have any envelope… I would have no memory.
I wish I could be as optimistic about distance as you are :)
ReplyDelete:) Well, It's the only thing that keeps one going.
ReplyDeleteI love this post, I find it very cute how he would slip seashells into your pockets. I just barley found your blog and I love it,
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You are so sweet! Thank you! And yes, I am now following you! :)
ReplyDelete"More often than not, I am whining about how unlucky I am. But years later, I hold a piece of the beach I once set foot on and I know that maybe if it weren’t for luck I would never have any envelope… I would have no memory."
ReplyDelete:)
This post is so awesome.. I could toh-tal-lee connect to it.
Why thank you! :)
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