It had been a long day, from hard luck at office, to the loneliness in the cafeteria, from the fight at home, to the haggling at the store; everything had been extremely unexpected. I have seen worse days, but today was unexceptionally one of those I don’t want to remember. I walked down the footpath towards my home, pondering over the situations that we face in daily life and the different ways we react to them.
It had become a monotonous routine of mine to walk through the lanes thinking aimlessly about how the smallest actions by us could lead to disastrous changes in the lives of people surrounding us. Like a stone, irrespective of the size, can disrupt a stagnant lake; my life had become a lifeless existence perturbed only by the occasional occurrence of events caused in due course of flow of the reactions to actions, both mine and others.
Changing the path of a stone coming towards me by a simple push of my shoe, I could feel the vulnerability of every living being, the mystery withheld by our untold future, the dark abyss we may fall into as a result of a small unknown action of ours. Pondering over all the possible outcomes of any small action, I felt helplessly small, tangled in the strings of destiny, the stimulus-response theory. The feeling of being a tiny part of a big unknown plan scared me. The grey future lying ahead of me petrified me.
By now I had crossed the last lane in my way and there in front of me, I could see the gate of my house. As I proceeded forward to open the latch of the gate, I heard the sweet laughter of my daughter and she came running out of the door and pulled my bag from my hand. Holding my hand she dragged me inside into an entirely different world of love, happiness and care. There in front of me was my wife holding a small cake to celebrate my birthday. Seeing the light in their eyes I forgot all about the dark unknown future ahead, and all I could see and feel was their excitement and love. It was then I realised, the future may be grey but it’s not always black.
~ Emissha Myandik | Edited by Afreen Zeb