Like the arm of the beam balance that swings upwards when the vendor lifts the one kg stone, my heart feels an odd upward surge. I can feel years of meditation and self-control melt into a thin jelly; I must yield to this strange release.
A voice from all around me, perhaps vibrating from within, says that all will be well. Like all the years behind me, the present, too, will pass. These years could even be filled with exhilarating joy - an unparalleled excitement that smashes existence in tiny, glittering pieces.
But I am afraid. I don't know such a life. It has always escaped me, often at the final moment, slipping through the gap between the tips of my fingers. I am not sure what I fear more - joy or sorrow.
A voice from all around me, perhaps vibrating from within, says that all will be well. Like all the years behind me, the present, too, will pass. These years could even be filled with exhilarating joy - an unparalleled excitement that smashes existence in tiny, glittering pieces.
But I am afraid. I don't know such a life. It has always escaped me, often at the final moment, slipping through the gap between the tips of my fingers. I am not sure what I fear more - joy or sorrow.
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