Life is never just ‘one’ to live.
The egg and cocoon had their role to play, for without either, she wouldn’t fly ever. Colours emerged, not her call. Wings aloft, that’s not all. While she enjoyed the flight, the flowers, the spirit, the life, she couldn’t look back. The stages to evolve were too close. The stages bore distance. A distance she loved to travel to soar. A distance she wished she never treaded.
I remember the trip to a zoo, when I was barely two . I wonder if that was the earliest memory. I think my episodic memory is overworked.
Time is a constant. Time is changing. Time - One of those of-the-by-the-for-the creations. What is one minute for the human race? Speed of thought nullifies what time quantifies. I (can) still live one and a half years in the world’s one-minute. Now…What happens to the life I lived in the world’s one and a half years……..???
Three years ago, it ended in the world. But for the mind that defies time as is, there is neither the beginning nor the end.
The egg broke, the cocoon gave way, the wings rose. She flies, she lives. Just that the ‘time’s are different.
