I am scared of being caught. Scared of being put in a pigeon-hole. Scared of someone telling me, you can't do this. I hate that. I can do anything. I want to believe that.
Friends often make fun of me when I tell them I am claustrophobic. I don't like small cramped places. Small rooms. The first time I heard about Vaishno-devi, I was scared and amazed. There's a small hole you need to pass through to enter the innermost chamber, and that to me seemed impossible. Every time someone talked about it, I saw myself stuck in it, always. As a kid, and this is funny, I believed, ardently so, that I was some sort of an angel (well, not like a nice person, but someone who could fly) and that I had come to earth for some reason and having done my job, one day, I would fly back to wherever I came from (Yep, stories, stories, I always loved listening to them and making up my own). I once dreamt in college that I could fly. I rose above the ground, very ethereal, and flew away from the living room window, like I was a light bird and my dad was trying to hold me back, like a kid who is trying to save a balloon that has escaped from its grasp. I told this to my family once, and we all laughed at how silly it was. Why am I so scared of being caught? What is all this struggle about?
I love windows, big windows; they represent freedom, an escape. As long as there's a window in the room, nothing can keep you tied down and helpless and locked. You can always flee.
I think I am running away from me. I think I am struggling to be free from my own grip.
There are so many things I want to do, and the only thing that's stopping me is, perhaps, me.
Friends often make fun of me when I tell them I am claustrophobic. I don't like small cramped places. Small rooms. The first time I heard about Vaishno-devi, I was scared and amazed. There's a small hole you need to pass through to enter the innermost chamber, and that to me seemed impossible. Every time someone talked about it, I saw myself stuck in it, always. As a kid, and this is funny, I believed, ardently so, that I was some sort of an angel (well, not like a nice person, but someone who could fly) and that I had come to earth for some reason and having done my job, one day, I would fly back to wherever I came from (Yep, stories, stories, I always loved listening to them and making up my own). I once dreamt in college that I could fly. I rose above the ground, very ethereal, and flew away from the living room window, like I was a light bird and my dad was trying to hold me back, like a kid who is trying to save a balloon that has escaped from its grasp. I told this to my family once, and we all laughed at how silly it was. Why am I so scared of being caught? What is all this struggle about?
I love windows, big windows; they represent freedom, an escape. As long as there's a window in the room, nothing can keep you tied down and helpless and locked. You can always flee.
I think I am running away from me. I think I am struggling to be free from my own grip.
There are so many things I want to do, and the only thing that's stopping me is, perhaps, me.
3 comments:
I really like this post..
Strange coincidence - I dream of flying often..
Nice 'hypnotic' blog u got here.
Sorry, but the trying to hold back line made me visualize the Haunted movie scene where the ghost tries to escape and the hero holds on to her by clasping her leg. Don't watch it, crap movie.
Anyway, if you haven't been to Vaishno devi yet do go there for the nice walk up to the cave. And the cave is not that small as ppl say. Though there is a belief that paapi log usme phans jaate hai *looks at her horns purported to support the halo* well your choice :P
Doesn't everyone dream of flying high? I thought everyone did. And we can fly, it is just the perfect time we all are waiting for like a butterfly does when it comes out of the cocoon and waits to gauge the strength in the wings.
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