Allegory Of My World

I sometimes wonder why we exist. What is the purpose of our existence? Are we really alive or is it someone’s story that we live in? The Interesting thing is, each of us have our own stories to tell, some related to us, while others are ones which intrigue us. We feel them; we relate to them, imagine them to be ours. The world offers us with thousands of stories, yet, there are only few which makes us feel so. We live in a world with unending maize of stories, some we find to be humorous, while some tug on our heartstrings.

Personally, I have always been into stories. Each story gives me a new life as if I am The Super Mario who discovers 1up’s throughout the game of my life. Every time I finish a story which fascinates me, I feel morbid, as if I’ve abnegated something. I seek for absolution form you if I am being childish because being just 15, the kid inside me still makes its presence felt quite often. Sometimes I ask myself, Am I the only person who feels so? In my mere fifteen years of life, I’ve seen stories ending abruptly, stories of a person’s life …. We call it destiny sometimes but every story has an ending. One way or the other it has to end. We are the authors of our own story, we write it. I don’t believe in luck (except when I am in the examination room), for me, every phase is just another paragraph of the story which we live in. There are some stories which we can barely think of … when we walk down the street on a cold winter night, we shall never know the story of the person who was passing us by. We tend to neglect stories, its human tendency. We read stories written by famous authors and bliss out but our vision blinds us from the stories which are written out in front of us. Some stories are foreseen while others are stitched out spontaneously out of an event… Some stories leave an abiding print in our heart while some washes away with the tides of time… But the stories never stop being written …. Everyday, every hour, this very minute perhaps, there is a new story being written and an old story reaching its climax. To some, I may seem like a fifteen year old fool wasting his time, but through this piece of my story, I wish to connect to those people who, like me believe that we all are mere characters of a story which is being written Right Now.