The Bridge
I have learnt that some definitions need to be
redefined. They may have to be done for
many reasons, sometimes, because of you grow out of something, sometimes, because your life turns a new leaf , and sometimes, simply because a
changed definition is vital for survival. A change of perspective. Like looking
over the water while atop a bridge. The same water, the same bridge, and
the same city. But the place you look at it from, your view changes. And that
is what we need sometimes, a different spot over the bridge. I am standing in a
new place over the bridge now, a place from where I can also see the place
where I stood last. When I had a childlike faith and an unfettered urge to swim
in the waters I knew I would drown in. That place was then, and this place is
now. I would not say one is better than the other, because it is because of one
that I am in another.
There is wind in my hair today as I sit by the shore, and
the few layers that cover me still make me shiver a little. I’m waiting for
someone in a bench in the park but it is a good wait I know, because I have a
smile on my face as the sun kisses my soul. With the wind slapping
against my face, I try to stare out in the open at the waters ahead and realize how free I feel.
Comments