Sometimes life tries you with fire, and you either come out burnt, singed or refined. You’re either made of some cleaning compound, and pretty soon you’re moaning and moping in infectious self-pity, and you’re like a forest fire of whines setting ablaze like-minded fucked up, unable to handle a jab sorrowed, melancholic dry leaves: used up, and crushed; or you’re made of water – a quiet grit that endures before overwhelming, engulfing the fire, and you’re made of tragic optimism that won’t quit until the withered forest grows green again, and you inhale the smell of the earth, dirtying your fingers with it, and saying, “It was excruciating, but meant to be, and I wouldn’t stand anywhere else now,” but patience takes years of precisely honing it, anger takes years before you master it, self-pity takes years before you let it all soak in a sponge of realism and then toss the sponge away, and I guess that’s why providence dishes out trials. Hell, you find terminally ill cancer patients making the healthiest people laugh. They know they’re going to die, but they’re for going down the right way, with a Marvin Hagler chin. Sure, you’ll fall, slip, or break bones, but looking towards the next moment makes the journey worth it. And loving people during the process just enhances the beauty of it all. You can’t love everybody, and some people are best avoided or ignored, but there are a few in each life. So, don’t fuck up an opportunity to foster something special with a person willing to love you.
© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)