my own sea...


At the edge of a rocky cliff, with the sun as my witness, I spread both my arms so that I could feel the wind pass through me. My gaze is transfixed towards the edge of my field of vision. I could not discern the size or shape of whatever it is that I am looking at. I am trying to cross my own sea...

I held out my hand as if I am trying to reach whatever it is that lies beyond me. I could feel its tendrils reaching out for me. Then I took a look at my bare palms. I am struck with what I have seen. 

What is written in my palms are crisscrossing lines. Most are distinct. Some obscure...

These are actually telling me about life.... the various encounters, the sudden departures, reunions, deadends, breakups, new life...

They tell me of my past, the current now and the future that is about to unfold....

For our hands show telltale signs of what we had been through, the state of our prevailing lives and from here on towards eternity, the future lies in our hands...

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