The Existence Of Our Being
There’s a light inside of me, a light that I am familiar with. I’ve seen it many times, mostly when I have had expected that I’ll be over soon. The next morning I’m on my feet once again, ready to continue. How beautiful it is that our life is not only ours, but it means something to someone out there too.
The existence of our very being is not just you and me, it has associations and affiliations. Bonds and strings attached. Since birth, we are committed as we grow up. To our relations that come by birth, and to the ones we connect while growing up, or as grown-ups. Every part of our story is not just ours but a little someone else’s as well. How beautiful is that?
I am so many versions of myself at a time. A daughter, an elder sister, a student, a teacher, a writer who finds her liberation in words, a poet who likes no rhyme yet often tries. A friend who has a caring and emotional self to offer. A person with ambitions to work for, the one who dares, and the one who speaks. I am so much more than what most people know of me. I am ME. The je ne sais quoi me. The one who kept going. The one who still holds so much within that is unread and has so much more to write about.