RedPaper.in – Short Story
By: Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in
Do you remember walking on the streets with those pebbles stuck in your shoes which you cannot remove, as you are in a hurry to reach the destination, however things are becoming worse, as they are poking you badly from beneath? And then added to this, when you try to adjust them according to those minute free spaces inside your shoes so that they didn’t hurt anymore, but to your worst, you almost end up in a fall, as the terrain around you is icy as hell. But then you decide to focus all your attention on the thing, for not slipping away at-least. But the situation keeps on getting worse and you keep thinking that you will finally land up into the decided place and pick those tiny pieces, meticulously, out of your shoes, dust your feet, curse them and toss them away and then you will continue your walking. You think that to be a peaceful journey thereafter if you will decide to do that, but do you? You don’t.
Then next day you decide to dust them off. Pulling all those pebbles out of those soles. You wear them again next morning and then those mornings keep on going. Pebbles find their way into your shoes again. Small and big hardened structures. You cannot crush it, you cannot mend it. They just keep piercing back. But this time you decide to ignore it all, like you have adapted to that pain which doesn’t bother you anymore or maybe it does but it’s suppressed by the rest which lies around you. You keep on walking for days, for weeks, for months. For years?
Finally, one day you decide to throw those shoes away and you get yourself those fiber cast pairs with holes in it. Then you think that the pebbles can come and go as they like and you won’t suffer any pain in the end. But what you don’t know is that you have a tendency of thinking that your ideas will work right away. It doesn’t. Those crocs give you a shoe bite. You suffer the same pain but you console yourself that you dealt with the pebbles at-least. And the struggle continues thereafter.
You decide to wrap up your feet in thick layers of cotton. You stuff it all together in the piece of fancy holed footwear that you own. It can protect your bruises going on wild as days pass. But those pieces of cotton make your shoes tight and unfit. You walk as if you are held by some sole dark spirit. Still, you think you can handle that. At least, those pebbles are gone and you are not getting a shoe bite. You keep on going. Long distances you need to cover and time keep on going.
Ain’t this a crude definition of life?