Elope if you must. There’s not enough shame in turning your back to the world,
than it is in enduring its silent, soul sucking gibe.
No one really knows what freedom is. It is such a tease, though. Freedom from expectations, freedom from conformity, freedom from fear, freedom from pride – or Ego;who are we kidding.
Freedom to breathe every single breath, take your own time breathing it. Freedom to feel the feelings pushed over by new anticipated feelings. Take your own time feeling it. Freedom to talk using as many words as there are. Don’t be a miser, bore them to death, freedom to care not.
Freedom from not even trying to be perfect. Freedom to enjoy your goof. Free to walk at a snail’s pace , though not yet opting out of the race. Or opt out if you must, for you need too, the freedom to rest.
Freedom to walk along a forest stream, to gaze at the water,
searching a purpose, or a God, or a fish with a broken fin, or the face of a forgotten kin. For hours together ,till the stream finds an outlet in your eyes. Freedom to cry and feel pathetic till your eyes dry up, tired you go to sleep, dreamless.
Freedom to wake up once again knowing you are free for all said before
and that one day when you die; you will die a free soul.
Jal tarangg 