Najois

The sun shone for fewer hours and the light glowed less bright during this time. The wind blew a more critical song in our ears no matter how fast we ran. And we all knew what the matter was. We all knew what was to come. Despite being very aware of this, somehow, many of us live our lives denying the unfolding seasons. Hoping that a blessed Indian summer would be bestowed upon us and keep the sun from inevitably following its natural course. Sometimes even outwardly thinking we could and would escape the ballot. But how foolish is that?

Oh yes, there was no denying that he was entering the winter of his life. A winter he never thought would come so fast, as he desperately clung onto his long past childhood and the glory he had dreamt up. A childhood which would define his entire character and leave him in an eternal search of the sun. Did he know what the sun stands for?

They say looking into the sun would make us blind. Well if that is true, then it did indeed eclipses the notion that life for us has a clear beginning and an absolute ending. And all of the in between. How we color the canvas depends heavily on the colors we get allocated, the pencils at hand, and our own efforts to create this work of art. Which may never become a work of art. And maybe hoping for that to be, is another way in which we cope with the passing seasons.

Perhaps, for him standing at the entrance of King Winter’s territory, he was bestowed upon another chance to expel the last bits of delusions he held onto so dearly and to finally wipe off the last crumbs visible in his already paling beard. To make peace with and scrub off all the “what could’ve been’s” and the unused potentials. Passed these gates, we might not have the strength left to drag along so much weight. But that choice lies in our own hands. Sure, you can cultivate and eat strawberries in January, that will taste exactly like they should during this time of the year.

Insipid, like washed off disenchantment.