Here’s something that I believe I wrote ten years back or so. A couple of days back, I was going through some old clutter of mine when I came across this. I don’t really remember the context in which I wrote this, but seriously, I do not reckon that anything of this sort can be written by me anymore now. *Sigh* Old times!!
Ah the greener pastures that would never be. You hope, you see, you hear, you feel, but all you’re left with is that old set of wheels. Two roads that lay before you, where each leads to a distinct destiny. One goes towards ardor, destruction; the other one, towards home. Which way to go, what path to prefer, when all you desire is something that you can’t even discern. You choose the former, you find love; must you decide to go for the latter; you discover life. Life that you have now chosen to disregard, to close your eyes to. For one you shall keenly proceed forward, leaving all that you know behind. The other one is there, calling you back towards its bliss. Back home, back to where you belong. And although you’ve known all your life, that the grass is always greener on the other side. I say, it’s only the grass that’s beneath your feet that’s yours, yours to tread upon and yours to believe.
It’s the meadows that lie afar which tickle your fancy, the lovely fields, the faraway dreams. Dreams of an unattainable utopia, perhaps to gratify your desire for something to hold on to, even when it’s as big as a fib can be. Ah the greener pastures that would never be!
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