Stepping into my Life

And finally I will be having my own story of strength and faith. I am gonna have a ladder to show how I conquered the unknowns which I was afraid of even facing. I will have my own story to tell to those who will be in extreme need of that string of their faith fastened. I will have a story that will give them glimpse of fear that turned me restless for a long and kept me waiting for the ultimate happening. That story will have sandwiched time of mine to show to those who need, and show them what ultimately their fate contains. It will tell them how far they can go and rely on themselves, and along with that they will have a free show of the pain and impatience that is inevitable to this street of life. They will see that fear in my eyes and anger in my tears. They will see how a thing can turn into mountain of so strength that going to otherside will be a dream. I still don’t know where I will land myself but story is being knit and I am sure there will be a point where the story might have an end and the best I can think is that the end would be as wonderful as I always wanted it to be. In every case of the consequences, I would definitely have story to tell. The strength, that restless, that pain, those tears and those moments of impatience where I felt I have lost the game and more over I have lost myself to the life and that faith in Divine that felt diminished couple of times.
I will have story to brag about and to represent myself as a warrior who went uncelebrated and unnoticed. Might be that I am exaggerating my fight more than it actually is and may be I am magnifying my war within but the fact is that this little soul new nothing about battles and was afraid of even getting noticed but now here I stand taller but still unaware of the results, still fear is there and still there is a hope somewhere. My war might not be of same measure as others have been in, but it is not any less either. Glorifying my battle is not what I need to do for that would be an insult to the fight I have fought, but demeaning my battle and considering it of not any value and therefore disguising it for having not any standard of the dignity that people demand, would be extremely unfair. It’s almost my first time to have painted my blank canvas and finally I have a mark of my own existence painted on it. I will hold it high and keep it’s smell fresh. It will always remind me of the times that felt like mountains on my shoulders and I will pat myself for the strength and honour I hosted. For the rest of my life, I will continue colouring that Canvas of mine and it will always be my duty to paint it with grace, irrespective of the texture of content and dullness of the colours. They say ” Everything has a beauty to offer” and I will see how my grace and dull colours would end up beautifying my life.