Life has been never same. It has always changed. Sun rises and Sets. Rays touch me every morning. But nothing looks me same. I gaze on same trees. Same green parch. Same wooden table with fungus on its edge. But time and the feels are never same. Days repeat themselves. We call them with same name. Still it is changed. The same day, change its date, month it belongs to and so is the years with the glowing flame.
May I live in the same house. The paint of the wall. The smell from kitchen. The colors of Bed sheets. The roughness of leather sofa. The picture on the television . The scratches on the phone screen. The dust around the corner. The sets of clothes in wardrobe. The shine of mirror in restroom. The lines on the bath tub. The smoothness and shine of wooden furniture. The whiteness of the kitchen top. Nothing and none of them remains the same. Although I used the same cleaner. I used the same clean wash cloth. All and everything has changed
As I grew year by year. I imprinted countless stories. Some I heard. Some I learned. Some I experienced. Some I experimented. Some I indulged. Some are forced to hear. The same stories I can see in all corners of my house. On all the things I used day by day and year by year.
Some stories I don’t remember. I just had a thread of it lying in my head some where rear. Some are good or bad are lying on the front row of my head. Some are ruling my heart. Though I recite them day and night. They appear as fresh as they happened to me just now. So does these marks on the dead stocks lying around me tell.
Whats the difference between me and these dead stocks. I can recite my stories loud and loud. I can laugh and cry as many times as I want. And they wait for me to tell their stories to you all clear and loud.