Twists and turns, crests and troughs, highs and lows and finally a fall, some stories aren’t short lived they are stillborn and by the time we end up realizing the same, a part of us dies with it. The chaotic mind that had sought sensed and found order is unable to give up though, holding onto a frail rope, of hope with the saws of despair engaged in cutting up both ends.

Patience is the need of the hour, when the mind is on the brink of collapsing again, the forces of Chaos taking over; hard it is to hold fast on to the notion of reality that life had gotten used to. But, patience it is, the mortar that binds everything in it’s place, the real and the virtual, accommodating each, maintaining aspects and finally coating the walls with Calmness – Well!! That is a distant scene for now, the walls need to be repaired.

Patience is hard to come by; it has never been a derivative of anything nor is it a function that can be integrated endlessly, perhaps it’s a residue that we are left with when hope and will assimilate, in most cases and in most beings it is intrinsic, the chances of someone being and becoming patient overnight is highly remote. Coming to, as to why I chose to write about it – that’s the only thing I am left with, I was never someone blessed with it, a residue it is in my case.

It does work wonders, the mind is meant to wonder and wander, but holding ground is easy when forbearance glues it all up, a gift indeed and can be a return gift too. The gift of patience, the ability to withstand all the shit that flies around, the rotting odor not affecting the order within.

After all the churning within, the walls of the mind look spic and span, a brand new coat in place, order stored and restored, with chaos neatly sorted and distinguished. The will and the hope, all set to assimilate and leave behind the residuum of Patience, this is regenerative. Talk of engineering stuff and this ‘Mechie’ here knows, the mind is an engine in itself. The fuel tank flashes a green tick and I am all good to go.

Twists or turns, crests or troughs, highs or lows OR may be finally a fall, some stories might be short lived or can be stillborn, but I’ve realized it’s all worth a fight. The chaotic mind that had sought sensed and found order will not give up though, holding onto the frail rope, of hope with the saws of despair engaged in cutting up both ends – Nope!! No despair now.

 

** Stars are meant to cross, they will, the will to hold on and the hope to see it through are now working in tandem. Unwrap the gift; you got it all – My Patience. The rotten shit, meanwhile, can fly around, the mind will hold it’s ground, no wonder!! It won’t wander.