Agony
I don’t know what life is but if it is good
then it was when I was with you, though it was for very short time. It is something
I cannot define; only a one who has been in this can understand its beauty. And
if it is bad then it is something I am living now, everything is bad without
you sweet heart.
I
cannot explain this but I wish no one to understand because to understand
one has to be in this. It is some agony, an agony from which the desire is to come
out but being helpless or say somewhere it has become an addiction of staying in the memories of beloved. When people know about you, they suggest you to move on or ask you to
be practical but it is not about practicality or moving on. I don’t know which
kind of agony is this but it is something very painful. It teaches you almost everything;
it makes you generous because you start understanding other’s pain too. At times
it makes you smile on you. It makes you patient. You slowly stop expecting
things not because you become a satisfied human but because you start leaving
all threads of fascination. You don’t realize that when you become a wanderer
with some unknown quest. You don’t realize that when you stop your pursuits.
You become a human who has some pale on face, you stay calm for the most of the
time but when you lose it, only emotions fall. Difficulty is not in surviving
but when it is after living then it kills you every moment.
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