My Own Wings | A Journey of Loss and Letting Go

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.”

~Henry Ellis

Letting go isn’t as tough as it seems. What is difficult is to decide whether it’s time to let it go or wait a little longer.

Sometimes in life we have to let go. And sometimes life forces us to let it go. Both ways, we learn something. Although the later makes it a little harder.

Knowing my luck, I learnt it the hard way. The day I lost my phone.

Everyday as I stepped outside, the one thing that I prayed for–besides my own safety–is not to lose my phone. I carefully put it in a purse and clutch the purse in my hand or to my bosom while travelling.

Yet one moment of carelessness, took it all away…

As I stepped on the platform and found my phone stolen, I was completely heartbroken. I couldn’t even believe that this can happen to me. I kept searching my bag to assure myself that it was a mistake. It wasn’t, though.

I had truly lost my phone… forever…

Of course, I can buy a new one. But what will happen to all the poems that I wrote and saved in there? What will happen to my quotes? What will happen to all those midnight thoughts that I jotted down in there?

Oh, I lost them all in just a second…

From one place to another, I just wandered in search of it… In search of just one assurance that the police were powerful enough to track my phone and bring it back. But apparently, they weren’t.

I returned home. I couldn’t believe that the phone whose alarm woke me up that morning was no more with me.

I stepped into my room and at once spotted its red cover. I had ripped it off my phone that morning, you know… for a change.

I wasn’t expecting such a drastic change!

Tears welled up in my eyes as I saw the last remains of something I lost forever. I grabbed the cover to my heart, threw myself on the bed and went on a violent crying spree.

All my prayers had gone in vain. The one thing I asked God to protect was cruelly snatched away. The pain was enormous and unbearable…

After a long time, when my tears could no longer flow, I rubbed them off my eyes. My heart was crying still.

I couldn’t bear to stay at my house that held too many memories of my lost phone. So, I chose to walk out of it for some time.

I was secretly hoping to meet him, but couldn’t possibly say it aloud. So, I just went and sat at a place he frequently visited. I wanted to call him, asking him to come, but my shyness prevented me.

I just sat there quietly hoping against hope.

And then I heard the cycle wheel roll. Soon enough his face appeared. A part of my sorrow vanished. I at least have someone to hold on to….

Perhaps he saw me sitting there from afar. Perhaps not. Maybe it was plain telepathy. Another conspiracy of the Universe. I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.

There was sadness in my eyes. There was pain in his too. I didn’t have to explain my agony. He already knew. For he is an artist, too.

He did everything to make me smile and we ended up laughing. He brought egg rolls for us. We relished them together.

I told him about the tears I had shed. He replied tears should always be shed in happiness. For that’s the best kind.

I told him about everything I lost—my poems, my quotes, my musings…

He said, “You are an artist. A creative writer. You will create more. And you will create better.”

I looked up at him. I was speechless. The thought hasn’t occurred to me at all. All the while I kept focussing on what I lost. And I forgot what I still have!

Yes, I’m a writer. An artist with the power of creativity. I weave poems out of mere words. I create out of vacuum. I still haven’t lost my ability to create.

And then, I smiled. He smiled back. The sorrow had left our eyes.

I learnt to believe in my own wings. I learnt the art of letting go.

“One of the happiest moments in life is when you find the courage to let go of what you cannot change.”

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By The Sanatan Chronicle

The Sanatan Chronicle | The Voice of the Globe

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