A sun ray falls on the yellow petal of the flower and the dew drop so far resting on it, glistens with a new-found energy. He loved nature. It bestowed him with an enthusiasm for life, for its eccentricities and its playfulness. His muddled thoughts used to pave way to a peaceful and an uncluttered mind. His heart used to reach out to the dew drop, to kiss the yellow, sun-lit face of the flower.
The fact that a part of his life was gone never seemed to bother him. He looked forward to the next moment in the same way as a class topper looks forward to the next set of exams—to show off, to strut his stuff and to display to the world that he is the best, not through words but through actions.
And yet under this calm demeanour, there was a fear that lurked. It was not the fear of failure. It wasn’t the fear of death. It was the fear of unhappiness—an unhappiness that comes from disappointing those you love, an unhappiness that comes when you get disappointed with life. Perhaps, labelling the fear as that of unhappiness would be wrong. Perhaps, unhappiness should be substituted with disappointment.
Perhaps, life cannot be as simple as a dew drop’s life as much as he and we may want it to be.
1 comment:
Fearful of Disappointing yourself? Its not hard to identify with that sentiment.
Post a Comment