The Road Not Taken

Seize every opportunity along the way, for how sad it would be if the road you chose became the road not taken. ~Robert Breault

In the past 15 years of my life, I have stumbled upon many roads. Smooth, broken, grassy lanes and many more.

There are many, many memories associated with each different road. All the roads I have travelled or strolled along told a story. It was my choice to unravel and listen to their tales. Some I did. And some I chose to ignore.

The stories I ignored had a vibe. These gave me a gut feeling that they were not meant for humankind. A suffering which could not be handled by a mortal being or a happiness full of joy and gaiety that it should be hidden from the cruel world. And I as a traveller fulfilled my duty by not listening to these.

I listened to many stories of the road. Tales about the journeys of many lives along different paths. Some roads saved many, some were destroyed whereas many were killed along the way. Some brought loved ones close, while some drifted apart.

There are some roads with which I am obsessed and I am very selfish as I don’t want the world to discover it. I am very possessive about these roads and want to keep their stories of love, pain, suffering and hope all to myself.

Each road and their stories taught me a lot. I learnt to take risks, challenge myself, do something adventurous and most importantly not to have any regrets. Each road taught me that regretting will not help me to achieve much in life. I learnt not to look back and continue to travel on the chosen roads.

I have travelled many roads and hope to journey along many more, unravelling and listening to some, respecting the secrets of others which should remain untold. But whatever I do, I have pledged not to look back and regret.

~ Anuragini


The Clouds.

The clouds -the only birds that listens to our stories.

Recently , in my Assamese class, our teacher explained us the story of Meghdootam ( A Sanskrit lyric poem by Poet Kalidas). How the Yaksa was exiled by King Kubera for neglecting his duties and how he convinced a passing cloud to take a message to his beloved wife from the Himalayas. The Yaksa described beautiful stories to his wife who lived far away from him through the clouds.

The clouds have always been a great listener not only to the Yaksa but to millions of people. It has listened to their stories, heard them cry, comforted and motivated many. I am one of them.

My photography mentor (a.k.a my Daddy) sometimes instructs me not to click photos with the sky and the cloud as the background. As usual being the “ideal” student, I disobey him and continue to click photos of the sky and the clouds.

As a kid, I always got excited whenever I was about to hear a story about heaven. I imagined myself sitting and sleeping on the soft clouds while listening to the story. I wondered if I was one them. Clueless, always floating and mysterious sometimes. The clouds, however, are inspiring.

They inspired me to float with creative thoughts and ideas and also sometimes surprise people with them. They inspired me to take a step forward to my passion. They are the reason why I write. As far as I remember, the first photo I clicked with my new/hand-me-down camera was the sky. And the first photo I edited was the clouds.

I do not know how many stories have the clouds listened to carefully or how many people it has inspired, but I do know that it have been my personal diary, my best friend and my greatest supporter.