How Will You Measure Your Life?

Deepak Rana
May 18, 2017 · 2 min read

As I looked through the same old window, I saw a feather dropping from the top of the roof. I knew at that point of time, that my life would end before the feather would touch the ground. But I smiled. I had lived my life. I had seen the good, the bad and the colourless moments in my life. It was the time to scrutinise the report card of life, and measure the years in seconds.

As the feather floated in the air, it reminded me of my childhood. The way I used to fly, without any restriction. It was light and hovered still in the air for few moments, as if it would never reach the ground. As a child I didn’t care about what lay next for me. I lived in that particular moment, which allowed happiness to chase me and not the other way around.

The feather continued to drift downwards, thereby gaining some pace. It gained some strength to travel faster, in a particular direction. Also, it had attached several particles to it and the attachments had hindered its ability to explore. Unlike its initial trajectory, it followed a pre-decided path. That reminded me of my youth, when I tried to make my way in this competitive world. I wanted to reach the destination as quickly as possible but I forgot that there were better things to do than that race. The more relations I formed, more I found myself being trapped in them and compromising my freedom.

I also realised that life was not about achievements but a progressive discovery of my own self. I should not have cared about others, but have continued to fly in my own way. I was beautiful, just like everyone else. This was the first time I appreciated myself, for who I was. The only regret, however remained that I tried to become someone else to appear better, which was a mistake.

“I am beautiful and I love myself.” I said aloud.

As the feather approached the ground, it suddenly stopped for a couple of seconds. Probably it had realised that the end was near. Just like me! And it resisted. Just like me! But the end was inevitable. I had to accept the truth and face it, no matter I wanted to or not.

I closed my eyes and smiled for the last time.

Note: The story was first published here: How Will You Measure Your Life

Deepak Rana

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Writes novels to Show-off. Marxist (pseudo-intellectual). Essayist (to bore you). Feminist (woman on top)