One July Afternoon

 One July Afternoon


As I walk homewards, the sun shines above me in a spotless blue sky. The weather on this day reminds me of the warm summer days I had revelled in months ago, years ago. The path that I walk takes me back to the quaint, picturesque roads I once walked, punctuated by mountains and bazaars. The wind that caresses my face blows back little lost parts of myself, those that I unknowingly left back in moments, and experiences: everything around me is a gate wildly flung open, through which I can go against the imposing gush of time, back to the moments, hours, days, weeks and years when I truly felt free from all influence, when I felt the total chance and serendipity of me being here, drawing breath, alive; when I knew that my feet had their place in this world, and my thoughts and ideas were a part of our shared consciousness. But, even if I were to run away from my road and revisit these memories, would I still be content? Would I feel the miracle of this chance assembly of dust and matter we call life, and not try to rationalise or reason it out? Would I still say that I am free, and not just a cog in this unquestioned and elaborate system of make-believe?


Written by Dev Ruparelia

Edited by Rashee Shetty

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