Balls to Confess

On Frankaffe, Sushrut Munje shares how regularly documented thought patterns lead to a fascinating read. Also, how having the balls to confess is liberating.
courtesy: Duncan Johnston

I started documenting my musings since I was young, and it has provided me the benefit of documenting the evolution of my thought patterns over years, in quite a public spectacle. Rains have always made me fall in love with everyone and everything around me. Yet, also reminded me of a sunny afternoon that’s no more.

You never quite realize how soon the summer passes through, we hardly relish the rich sunlight, do not understand the magic behind a sparkling leaf in the morning, always looking out at the horizon for something new. When it rains, we miss what could have been.

Rains come and go, winter swoops in before we could make out the stiffness in the breeze. Season long gone, yet the warm spot in the tummy remains, an emptiness that remains, of an acceptance yet a memory. Life is a full circle, and the summer will follow the pretty spring. But it would always be a new one, and it’s crucial to fall in love with what is.

White lilies have always been special, standing out amidst the perceived non entity, the usual. It was magical to behold one mind evolving with the other, quite like the conversation between an individual and the infinite. Compressing against each other, molding and defining and giving each other shape. I have treasured memories, such that they make me smile a silly one. It’s magical how humans can make each other feel.

I have framed pictures of what it was like, on my gray walls of lessons and the journey till date. I confess I don’t have the balls to look at what I have lost. I do have the balls to confess though, and to move on ahead. It’s liberating because knowing what I do not have the balls to do is better than not knowing the pits.

I’m grateful words can help me paint.

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