Realities Of The Life

Why is it hard to accept reality?

Every morning as we open our eyes, disconnecting ourselves from the sweetest of dreams, what first hits our mind is not what we’re going to have for breakfast but what roles do we have to go through the next twenty-four hours. Through the day we come across our mentors who we have to respect whether their teachings seem stressful or not. We come across people of different creeds whose teachings are biased against our thinking and we try to ignore or tolerate them.

You’ll be walking down the street after work and come across people clothed in the most beautiful of clothes you have ever seen living in the luxury you can never imagine having. The frustration inside you keeps boiling. Suddenly a group of men approaches you all of them wearing the same dress. They are here to preach to you their religion. You give them some of your time and listen to them with patience.

Who knows whether their right or wrong but just want to rush home and detach themselves from the world. After they have left you still have half a mile to walk as your budget doesn’t allow you to go by taxi. Despair hits you at that moment. You don’t have the smallest of clues whether all your hard work would pay off or not. Your heart is overflowing with anxiety.

You look for some relief out of the misery your soul is in. Your inner self is tired of the change in attitude you have been taking throughout the day to deal with people of different sects. You look for something that could nourish your soul and give relief as in inner peace. You look towards the desk and find an open book with blank pages and a fountain pen, leaking some ink, lying on top of it.

Your soul suddenly knows how to heal itself but the challenge is to listen to your heart instead of your mind. You take up the pen and start writing down your feelings. The moment you lay your pen on the paper your heart suddenly opens like a fountain and all of the misery that you kept in yourself starts pouring out. You somehow feel at ease. Maybe you have been in the worst of your days but you feel as if the pen is not leaking ink but instead is showering the paper with your frustration.

Your mood has lightened a lot. Your heart starts singing of joy and the melody is synthesized with your writing. You feel all your emotions in motion with the pen. You now know the power of art. Writing lets you take all of your miseries and paste it on a paper and leaves give you the content that you would have never sort from anywhere else. You now have relief from all your worries. As Maya Angelou once said,

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”