The wind

When I imagine wind, I do not know why but always remember old movies. They had way of capturing the changes in human face better than anything. So every time I got a wind in my face I imagine myself in black and white and on slow motion. Like I am battling with the air slowly and walking forward without any fear. My reality is quite opposite to that. I do not face wind without any fear. Fear usually paralyze every fiber in my being. I let him do that, or wind does it. I cannot really differ one from another. Wind is strange thing. Every time I face it something is in my eye. I cannot see clearly, I am afraid but I keep going forward. Strange, right? Like I have no fear, but I have it a lot. Wind brings that slight change in me. Every time I feel a little braver. Every time I feel I can beat him. Every time I feel I can go forward. But strange thing is, every time he pushes me back. So I must fight him harder and every time I try to do exactly that. I will try. That is the least I can do. That I should do. I will fight the wind every time I have a chance. Wouldn’t you?


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