Young and Carefree

Sitting in balcony, sipping on his usual winter sun and keeping a track of every passing human being in order to not to miss a chance to greet the one he knows, unlike his friends who tend to tilt their heads down when they spot a known person just to bypass an extra second spent in conversations and bonding, which in fact really confuses him. A butterfly, colorful as rainbow and sparkling like a materialistic ruby catches the attention of his wandering eyes. Drawn to its beauty like a film star to his fame, he moves ahead forgetting the fact that he is barred by society, oh! Wait, by the grills of his balcony, attached to his house, located in his society, though still the same.

Anyways,  mesmerized by the little beauty, he runs out of the balcony, into the living room, the balcony door shuts back with loud noise, almost sounding like an explosion, an explosion of anticipation, mother shouts from inside, reacting to the large loud step. The boy nevertheless runs across the room, faintly tipping the glass table, grasping for breath, he unlocks the latch on door, the metal makes creepy sound, as the door opens and white light fills the entire room, light of eternity he thought in his head or he should have thought, but his mind was too occupied by anticipation that he virtually goes blank as he runs out, out of the house, out of the house situated in a society, marked by rules and orders, tradition and judgments, he runs, he runs to discover the lost visual of a tinny little beautiful butterfly, still so complex that it seems like a miracle. His head goes in left and so does in right, his mind goes in despair and heart goes in desire, his thoughts fluctuates between withdrawal and persistence, torn by the choice, his absent nervous system registers a blink of a movement on RIGHT side, it was the butterfly. He jumps in joy but as he lands his left knee hurts, his vision not so pristine and the power with which he cuts through the polluted air to reach as close as possible to the desirable creature seems like a faint sneeze. He notices that he actually aged while running behind his choice, his desire, and his adventure. But he is happy, he went against the rules, he was not bound by judgment or bruises, he ran like a wind, a free wind, he followed his heart like a child. It doesn't matter how old was he and what religion he followed, doesn't matter what day it was or which phone he owned, what matters, is his heart, his heart remained young and carefree.

“Hai guzarish itni tujhse, karun jab aankhein band mein,

Uss pal suraj ko thoda bhigo ke chamkana,

hawa ko befikra bahana,

fullon ko thoda aur rijhana,

lag jaye pata har jigre ko,

jaye na kabhi woh, jawan hai jo zamana”