There is this thing 'bout writing, if you happen to be in love with it. One moment you are on the bed starin' at the ceiling thinking 'bout the latest song you have learned on the Guitar in the evening and how generous the teacher was to praise you for playing another one perfectly and then the next, the writer bug appears out of nowhere and stings you so softly that you become helpless, give up on the search over yet-to-be-sought sleep and get anxious to write s'thing up. So I (im)patiently waited for my hubby to get deep into blissful sleep, sneaked out and now feeling like happy-go-lucky soul with the world sleeping in my neighborhood.
Just yesterday I was in my kitchen during wee hours, all groggy and desperate to shoo away the hovering sleep. Purpose? I was there to make meals intended to give away to my kid and husband for the day. I picked a lemon and started slicing it but completely failed to notice it had hardened over last few days. I was a bit stressed since the previous eve and was still in the similar demeanor. So when I grated the knife over the lemon, the blade slipped and landed on my left index just for the split of second but enough to jerk me up, waking to the best of my senses. There was li'l sight of blood. I cursed myself and immediately ran my finger under the running tap. Time was ticking so I ditched the water, sliced the lemon with the help of just nine fingers, added honey and warm water and gulped the concoction down. During the entire cooking, my finger hurt and I finally had to resort to a Handyplast which was taken off soon afterwards.
For normal eyes and a stable head, the incident has nothing much to offer but since writers have an annoying habit of squeezing something meaningful out of almost everything, the little accident turned into a metaphor. At the time of slicing the lemon, I was so self-absorbed that I failed to be completely on my guard. I was too stressed and drained out to focus on the more important task at hand. But if I were alert and vigilant, well then...you know I'd have been spared of the li'l accident.
Sometimes we become so obsessed 'bout unimportant things; things over which we have no control that we fail to see what's bigger waiting ahead. The sight becomes a blur and the focus transforms into a fixed confusion. Your body is on the earth but you feel as if your soul is flying somewhere else, in search of a meaning that can be extracted only by dissolving the unimaginable; where the stirring reaches up to such a level that it crystallizes the truth on its own. And if by chance, this doesn't happen, you can still be standing all groggy and unstable even during the finest hour of the day. So until the truth reveals itself, be aware and alert. Look ahead and be prepared.
So much of 'gyaan' on the name of enlightenment through a finger cut, huh! Anyway, I just want to say, don't be too self-obsessed over something to not to notice other important things around. It's Life. it's always gonna be playful and testing.