Those moments when you look over your shoulder and see those crossroads where you took the wrong turn. That sordid feeling of rue that rouses you from amity; pacific bliss that only sleep can bestow. Agony becomes your only friend. When the morning light pierces your very soul; a soul ravaged by despair. That perfect one you lost by losing grip of the reality that deluded your destiny. That one person you forgot to cherish. When the passage of the day tyrannizes that elusive emotional gem the demented call ‘happiness’. Only silence bears witness of your pangs. When rhetoric of ‘be positive’ evokes tinnitus; a shrill that only translates to a sweet melody to the elect – those annoying narcissists who had the good fortune of taking the right turn. Some zealot coined this refutable ‘truth’ – life is all about the choices that we make. What a repertoire of nonsense. Life is an attempt at rectifying the choices imposed on us by fate. What could have been can never be. Penitence. Penitence. Penitence.


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