I don’t know how I had missed this virgin spot, while zipping through the countryside, visited often. I took out my favorite book and ventured straight up to the platforms’ edge, at the heart of the lake.
This would be one childhood wish, that I would fulfill.
I lay there, reading the bookmarked chapter, till very soon that I realized, the discomfort of the position. There was nobody to notice me and I felt easy.
Alas!, I had envisioned things through the crowd’s eyes.
I sat up to devour the site of such natural opulence, that I felt a little lost. This oneness was something that I missed often.
To be able to run to a long lost friend, give and have a long warm hug, but for the hurdles of social upkeep, questions on orientation-sexual and otherwise, pride and perception and every other insignificant thing, made significant with time and circumstance.
I had learnt to miss them – for I was wanted, but little.
To have a hearty laugh, at silly stuff, with people whom I grew up with – but for the emotional wreckage, the world had gifted them with.
We had learnt to laugh and sing and dance, nonetheless.
To enjoy beauty, youth and carefreeness – but for the scars that had etched my skin.
I had learnt to overlook.
Little did I know that there’s little truth in the paradisiac innocence. But, without pretense, here it was only peace. The child in me clung to her mother, who’d seen it all and loved her back.
Inspired by Picture it and Write