Indelible

Past midnight. Through the dim lights. We watched on as they incessantly gave you a diagnosis every few minutes. Each one lasted eternity. We're silent, while the smell of drugs hung heavy in the air. Perhaps at that point of time, we all knew. But no one dared mention a word. Because it would be real the minute we say anything. And we were all just deceiving ourselves. Hoping against vacant hope, that what we're thinking of isn't true. We wanted somebody to walk out that corner and reassure us that our fears were unnecessary because you'd be fine. But none did. And we finally had to face what had to come. Too quickly, but not unexpected. We had to make a choice. Let go and spare you the agony, or cling onto every possible way in a bid too desperate to keep you by our side? Amongst us, some were relenting. Finally the tears came. On every single face. As we each walked to your bedside and let you watch us for the last time. You were too tired to speak, while my voice faltered as I attempted to. I held your hand tightly in mine, hoping that you would suddenly be strengthened to pull through this. I knew you could, because you did. But in the end you chose to stop battling. Too weary. You made your decision, and I found it the hardest to respect. But God taught me to see this beauty in letting go. Till today, I never forgot how you chose to finally breathe for the last time when no one was by your side. Alone you came and alone you left. To be with the one who has blessed me with your very presence for more than half of my life. I miss you.

Overrated

I awake to the smell of cinnamon and inhale the air. Dense. Still, quiet. The road's in solitude and its tranquility murmurs of reluctance. Reluctance, that makes things too apparent. When do we know we're no longer what we are? There comes a point when we have to learn to let things go. Not because it's the right option, but because holding on wouldn't make things better. We will all be reluctant. Who's to say we've never wanted this more than anything? At the end we all just settle. It's when we realise we're just like everyone else. It's when we stop trying to be different because there's no way. It's when we tread our toes on soft sand and forget how we used to build sandcastles. It's when we stop doing what we love. Because we think there's little time we should afford for ourselves. We all hear and speak about our lofty ambitions. Dreams that are seemingly unattainable, but made believable when we pat each other on the shoulders. And so we work hard, thinking that we are in control and that what we do today determines the results we will face. But growing up also means you have to learn to accept. That we have no idea how our life really turns out albeit meticulous planning. We write them down, make oaths to ourselves. We clench our fists and say we're determined. We focus on nothing but what we design and eventually label as goals. We get distracted along the way and wake up to the ugly side. Realise that life isn't all pretty. And struggle to come to terms with the truth that ultimately we'll never know how things pan out in our lives. So this makes the idea of having dreams moot. There's no point, isn't it? We search for information, get obssessed and busy ourselves with the whole planning of our future, battling against the parts of our selves that tell us it's impossible.
We listen to inspiring stories and listen to all the successful accounts, and finally believe that if we really put in more than enough, we would be where we want to be. But we all forget too easily: we too are in the midst of people who're just living the norm. They're not exactly unsuccessful, they just don't hold anything impressive. And this is majority. Which means a greater probability of us being one of them. So when all has dissolved, what do we hold on to?
Consider finding joy amidst all the drudgery and reluctance. A road less traveled indeed, but maybe this is the way I want it.