We Could Make It

You entered the winter of my life with the gush of a warm breeze. You brought spring in the dead cold, and you freed me of my deserted being. You were the shining star of a moonless night, my warmth in the dreary sights. You were the stream of cold water to quench my thirst of contentment. You were the soft soothing blanket I would curl into when the world outside was too much for me to bear.

I was your strangely found soul mate. Your rescue in times of daunted nightmares. I think I was the twinkling spark in your eyes that I could always see. The smile on your lips, I thought it was always me. I thought our souls were bonded with togetherness of hope, of illuminating our darkest fears. I know we were imperfect people, with a set of flaws but stitched together with kindness and dreams together to be followed. But our bonded souls and colorful lives fell apart like splintered pieces of glass.

Who Am I?

Around midnight, I lie comfortably on my bed, lazing around, wondering if there’s someone who feels exactly the way I feel right now,

We all are humans with our individualistic qualities. We know where we are now but do we really know WHO we are now? Who am I? A human, a girl, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a lover, an advisor, a student? No. These are just nouns. But do these dictionary nouns really define me? Does simply being a human define my existence?

Am I just the obedient, lovable daughter of my parents? Am I just the notorious little sister? Am I just a trustworthy friend with a shoulder for people to cry on? Am I just the girl who can be loved by a gentle, kind heart? Am I someone’s priority? Or am I the problem creator? Am I the sweet girl with a kind heart or am I the angered woman with revenge in my blood? Am I searching for someone or am I waiting to be searched by someone?  Surely, I am something much more than all of this. Much better.

Who am I? I am confused. I am a dreamer. A wanderer. I am lost. And I am trying to search myself. I am tangled in the quest of life. I am tied with strings to people, relations, dreams and actions. Every string pulls me towards a different direction, making me a puppet dancing to the tunes of others voices, choices. And may be, amongst all these voices, I have somewhere lost mine.