I hit it.
I hit the wall of glass ahead of me. I walked right into it. Can you believe that?
I walked right into it when I should’nt have done that. The ensuing glares and ‘oohs and aahs’ from the people around me made me hold my throbbing head in my hands.
And then I saw it.
Red in colour. Blood.
Oozing out like it had been waiting to do this all along. It trickled down the sides of my face and into my mouth. It tasted, err, not bad.
So I got my handkerchief out and tried dabbing the thing, when a hand on my shoulder nudged me and a calm voice told me to head to the emergency room.
I could feel something snap at the back of my head the very instant I walked into the door.
And this was not something physical which snapped.
It was something more than that. They say, physical pain can be guided into a recess but mental anxiety and frustration were the ones who pulled the strings and took you places you’d rather not go.
I experienced that first hand today when I walked into the freaking door. The only thing on my mind after I hit the door was that nagging feeling of embarrassment. It’s not everyday you find people walking into doors and walls and every other edifice around. To add to the misery, I was dripping blood and all that red made me want to slap myself for not being cautious.
This is when I likened the flow of my blood to that of a river. They say once a river starts to flow, the only thing that then matters is the destination.
I wonder if our human lives can be compared to the flow of the river, and as our lives end eventually without any warning, does the river die too once it meets the ocean/ I mean is it the end?
Do things start only to end? Is it in the basic nature of things to reach completion? If everything has to end, why do they begin in the first place? Does anybody have an answer to this question? Will anybody ever have the answer to that question?
