In the “Becoming”

Insignificant and tiny is how I have arrived upon my existence. Unaware of what surrounds me, my silent senses are still alive. I can feel the air that breathes into me, the light that shines upon me and hear the voices permeating into me. I am static and at rest.I want to respond and react but I am confined and fastened by my destiny and life. I hold on and crawl within myself by every second that my breath counts for and yet nothing is seen.

You watch me like an insignificant entity, like am no more of purpose by reason or relevance. I look up to you, for you pass by me, unnoticed. I call and I look out, but am still too small, veiled and insignificant to be appraised. My voice is bleak, and audible only to me.  All this while, I pull my self together and move in camouflage in fear of being crushed as my limbs are still feeble but with a spirit that is marginally stronger. I do not appeal to the world by what beauty defines. But do I know, for I haven’t had a chance to see myself in a mirror that shows me my truest colors?

Nothing now is what I choose to have, but I comply since survival teaches me to do so. I am brave and intimidated at the same time. But can I exhibit what I feel? The world around me sees only that, what shows and not beyond. Although, I wish it could. The course of nature weathers me, sometimes weak and sometimes stronger than I could have ever imagined for myself. I am persistent that I would never loose my ground and one fine day,see the world from my very own vision. I have days when the skies are crisp, clear and blue and also those that are gloomy and cold. Yet I manage to survive and keep breathing.

However, I feel maybe my time has now come. Maybe, my ongoing existence isn’t of any further relevance to any of my passerby and mediocrity shall no longer be a part of me. I crib, I sulk and unhesitatingly choose to change the course of my river. I now choose for seclusion and solitude as  great historic men did. I begin to prepare and become one that is over and above of pity and dejection and seek for, the one last shelter. Now hidden from this customary world I choose to weave my own cocoon of infinite dreams and incubate my body and soul, to believe into ‘My Becoming’.

Hours and days pass by as the world around me continues to spin. But unaware of the outwardly adventures I continue to weave my dreams around me,the ones that I now choose to be mine. Acquiring them have never been like what it might have just seemed, but my transformation has just begun. And for whatever it takes, I would not stop. My feeble legs now seem to be strong and I begin to feel the gush of power and mysticism of beauty. I haven’t seen the mirror, yet I find refinement in my being and am truly relishing every bit of it. The strength in me is so profound now that I can hardly remember to crawl the path from where I began. And now, I know my time has come. I spread my wings for the first time and flap. The air  beneath empowers me. I ponder and pause and I flap again. This time, I choose to fly and look back only for recognition and esteem and embrace the sun in its truest spirit.

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I trembled as I soared my first flight and see a broader dimension of what only seemed too distant and in the spur of the moment I catch the first glimpse of an onlooker that is of awe and admiration.A glance like I had never seen before. “What is different now, that wasn’t before, that the eyes of sympathy and irrelevance now seemed to have changed.”  Flowers and fragrances now greet me and what I have at my disposal is not dust but a banquet of nectar. Just when I thought I was nothing but mundane, life has offered me with a burst of colors and wings to uplift my spirit and without a piece of glass, I know  from this very moment, I am what the world calls beautiful  because the world then chose to be my mirror and I chose to be the butterfly that the world chases.

“You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar. ” – Trina Paulus

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