[ A little piece of fiction ]
I am a blade of grass growing in a crevasse between two concrete slabs on a road. As I stand just outside the drivable part of the road, I have been enjoying my existence since few months now.
It is a small drive in an insignificant part of the town. The drive is usually lonely and sparse. It looks as new and unused. One can even see the coarse small stones on the surface, in the molten tar. Anyway, there are not many people in USA to use all the roads in all parts of town.
From outside, there is nothing exciting in my life. I just watch weather, watch people's tyres who drive by and watch their cars and sometimes I watch them. I am pretty certain nobody watches me. Or maybe someone does once in a while.
Despite my unnoticed existence, I carry a world within me. I know what is it like to be alone standing on a cold night, a chilly and windy night, a night with slight drizzle or the following day with dull gray skies. Or a full moon night of spring, where there seems to be anticipatory liveliness, or a dark night of terrible winter and I get covered by snow. Snow saves me from more snow and water. It also saves me from seeing the plight of humans or machines clearing it to keep the road open.
Oh ya, I know about days too. Gorgeous clean days of post-winter, with sun's rays with all colors nourishing my face. An occasional passionate car passes by with blowout hiphop music or even a babyboomer lets loose with rock songs of the 70s.
Long and active days of summer seem so repetitive yet full of human activity. Short and cloudy days of winter where nothing much is happening outside and the sun seems repenting that he rose on that day in the first place. In winter, entire existence seem to be yearning for the night. The cold, cool, or a frosty night. A drizzely, calm, snowy or stormy night. In winter, humans seems to have nothing to do, and have much time to themselves. Ah, Christmas, Thanksgiving, the food, gifts, love, family, friends, shopping, chocolates. Hmm, winter here seems to have all the ingredients of the good life.
The good life. Isn't all about that? The good life; or is it about something else? Anyway, when I get so deep in thinking, an occasional splash of air or water wakes me up. I don't have to worry about anything, I am just a blade of thick grass and might even be called weed.
Nobody watched me coming and nobody will watch me going. Nobody watches me living, existing. But I do live, I do exist and my life probably has some meaning.
I am a blade of grass growing in a crevasse between two concrete slabs on a road. As I stand just outside the drivable part of the road, I have been enjoying my existence since few months now.
It is a small drive in an insignificant part of the town. The drive is usually lonely and sparse. It looks as new and unused. One can even see the coarse small stones on the surface, in the molten tar. Anyway, there are not many people in USA to use all the roads in all parts of town.
From outside, there is nothing exciting in my life. I just watch weather, watch people's tyres who drive by and watch their cars and sometimes I watch them. I am pretty certain nobody watches me. Or maybe someone does once in a while.
Despite my unnoticed existence, I carry a world within me. I know what is it like to be alone standing on a cold night, a chilly and windy night, a night with slight drizzle or the following day with dull gray skies. Or a full moon night of spring, where there seems to be anticipatory liveliness, or a dark night of terrible winter and I get covered by snow. Snow saves me from more snow and water. It also saves me from seeing the plight of humans or machines clearing it to keep the road open.
Oh ya, I know about days too. Gorgeous clean days of post-winter, with sun's rays with all colors nourishing my face. An occasional passionate car passes by with blowout hiphop music or even a babyboomer lets loose with rock songs of the 70s.
Long and active days of summer seem so repetitive yet full of human activity. Short and cloudy days of winter where nothing much is happening outside and the sun seems repenting that he rose on that day in the first place. In winter, entire existence seem to be yearning for the night. The cold, cool, or a frosty night. A drizzely, calm, snowy or stormy night. In winter, humans seems to have nothing to do, and have much time to themselves. Ah, Christmas, Thanksgiving, the food, gifts, love, family, friends, shopping, chocolates. Hmm, winter here seems to have all the ingredients of the good life.
The good life. Isn't all about that? The good life; or is it about something else? Anyway, when I get so deep in thinking, an occasional splash of air or water wakes me up. I don't have to worry about anything, I am just a blade of thick grass and might even be called weed.
Nobody watched me coming and nobody will watch me going. Nobody watches me living, existing. But I do live, I do exist and my life probably has some meaning.