I tried to peek into her mind...

She sat, a wasted pen grasped loosely in her hand. Her face was a cascade of emotions. Those eyes flamed with anger, tightly pursed lips screamed of recent resolutions, promises to herself perhaps. Frustration at the humongous effort that never paid back, at time that slipped through her fingers never to be had again. Questions contorted her features- Why am I here? Where am I going? Not a year ago, it seemed picture perfect. Is it just one huge mistake? A comment sailed by, that agreed with the cynicism she felt. Her pen moved on paper, I could discern the slant of her hand from yards away. I could feel the searing force of the pen as if it were piercing through my own skin. Resentment hung around her like an impenetrable curtain.

I wondered if these are just my inferences snatched away from the fleeting expressions on her face. These could be just my thoughts, isolating patterns from the kaleidescope of her feelings. This might be a futile attempt at mind reading. Or my faulty perception and skewed imagination jaundicing simple reality. I sat wondering, when suddenly a small smile, a happy one, stole into her eyes. Those lips, a thin line until then, perked up from that smile. Was it the beloved violin back home, beckoning? Was it favorites from Bach and Mozart, resounding in her head? Was it the sun that had just swam in and brightened the window? But she smiled, a happy smile. Aren't these the very moments that make life worth its while...?

Flouncing

Have you ever felt your life has become an exciting tug of war between fancies and reason... intensity and inertia... heart and mind (allow me the cliché)? It is almost as if someone, with the touch of a wand and a whispered spell, has rendered everything unrecognizable.

Not too long ago, I was young and important and thought I was the sole master of my life. But life has its way of springing these surprises. Surprises that could be nasty, or a much needed reality check, or just an amusing change of scene.

The cynic is tempted to wonder if as we grow older, we slowly spiral down into a vortex of ambivalence and uncertainty. Isn't that moving backwards? Where is all the wisdom I was promised will come with experience? Maybe those important lessons swished past me during an elusive woolgathering moment. Or is it too early for wisdom to reveal itself? I am still a child!

For a change, the cynic was smothered! There is a certain charm in the non-algorithmic tortuous flow of life. There is a promise entwined in the tangles of uncertainty - a promise of a memorable today, the tomorrow of my dreams. The fear causes an onset of boiling wrath that soon hardens into unbending obstinacy against the ravages of fear itself.

The illusion of success could paint itself real... The rainbow could come and stay on forever... Call it optimism, call it irrationality, call it lust for life. The proverbial speck of light gleams enticingly, maybe the tunnel will end in an ideal world?!