Afternoon. It was ticking sometime after noon, when a burp eloped from the depths of her throat. She chuckled, and brought the glass of cold drink – precisely, coke – to her lips and sipped on it.
The sky was cloudy that day, like the Sun was shy to show itself. The moonlight would be bright, she predicted. The day, never stayed the same in two parts of it; just like life.
She read something, again and again on the pages of Facebook, some articles on websites and blogs, and realized that every person had something to share which we thought was dismissed off as triviality by others.
Nothing in this world was trivial. Every little thing has it’s own essence, and for those who can feel it, it becomes a part of their each breath.
Like the burp that had eloped.
Like the blinking of eyes.
Has anyone ever thought how many precious, astonishing things happened in just a blink of an eye? Mostly no, because it’s trivial.
Then, why isn’t death trivial? Why aren’t festivals trivial? Why isn’t the ring of the phone, the sip on the coffee, the breaking of hearts, the narration of a story trivial? Why do they hold important places in our lives? Why do we try to try to portray in high definition, each and everything like that?
The chattering of the rain on the ground.
The first beam of light through the window at dawn.
The one line on the horizon made of gold and silver at twilight.
All occurrences happen every day. Some are trivial, some are not.
And sometimes these trivialities become the support of our lives, while we try to hold onto them, live in them, and breathe in them as well.