LIFE AND LIES #45 | Beats & Paces
The journal is tattered now, barely holding the pages together. On the top left corner of the cover, a fading yellow mentions the year: 2013. The same year I began this journal. God, it has been 10 years. I open it. On the left page, I have scribbled some words: “If found, knock on my door, or call me on 7********4.” It rhymes. Read that again. On the next page, there is another set of words. It’s a guideline for aspiring writers. But during the years past, I made it my life’s mantra too. “Show, don’t tell.” I flip through the pages. Some contain neat well-written sentences, others are scribbled upon haphazardly. While most of them have successfully become part of a short story or poem, some fragments of thoughts still await their destiny. I can't help but reflect now on how these words have accompanied me over the past years after my flight of dreams crash-landed. The bits and pieces that remained, I carried them along with me when I retreated to find a firm footing, to rediscover