sadness creeps in as imperceptibly as the dusk that fades into darkness, without even leaving a trace of its existence behind, and yet, as gradually as ever. do the final rays of dusk, carry any hope? or do they promise a false sense of hope? something that all of us need to move on. Is everything really what we choose to make out of it?
What happens if the boat sinks just when the shore comes into view? does that fall under success or failure? do varying shades of grey exist? Does there have to be joy behind every laugh? Why pay for fake flowers when we get real ones? May be the ever-lasting freshness of the fake ones (irrespective of how much ever fake they are) is appealing, real flowers will eventually wilt, and it will be time to move on again.
How ever fast you move, the past does catch up. Deeply-buried questions have an uncanny tendency of rising up at the most unexpected moments. A pleasing exterior but one which is shallow from within, is no different from a shadow. Acceptance is important, however, the truth can never be ignored for long, it does show up, and leave one stranded, yet, its a short road that takes one to the joys of being a bystander.
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