It was thought that the gods blew on creative people, who would then inhale the god's breath and have an idea. This is the premise of "inspiration": inhaling divine breath and ideas.

Monday, December 22, 2014

And I let go....

It seemed like the year's coldest night. Wrapped around in layers of thick clothing yet feeling the chill. My lips shivered. I wonder if it would ever feel the same again.
Smiling at myself I told my reflection that no two moments can be same. Just like how two fingerprints can never match. It leaves an impression in the sands of time.  
Now I chuckled at my reflection ... how foolish of me to hold on to a dream. I opened both my palms and let go. From the centre of my palm rose smoke. And deep inside the chilly winds began to cease. A new found warmth spread across my body. Rising from my toes travelling upwards spreading to every inch.

I laughed at my reflection. Loud and clear. Till my mouth hurt and tears formed at corner of eyes...

 My reflection began to slowly disappear as mist formed on mirror. I still stood there but she was vanishing.  I tried to hold her one last time. The more I tried the faster she escaped. And I  wonder if my reflection sighed a relief. Hmm....

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