Time introduces things and gives you an impression that you are the one choosing. It builds you up making you believe that you are the one who gets to choose the color of the ink your destiny will be written in, the perfume your senses would wake up to as if you are born again and the gaze that will tear you down or build you up.
False. It's just an impression. Time handles it all anyway. It just rolls the credits well in time for you to know what all is going to be there, either for a while or for the entire lifetime.
But then again, some choices are left to you.
Like taking that first step off your porch in the rain, picking hydrangea instead of rose, preferring bitter dark chocolate over milk chocolate, ordering salad dressing on the side, reading your favorite book with torch light under covers when you have state-of-the-art kindle on your desk and who among the world you chose to love and be loved by.
It looks tempting. The way colors go around in a whirl when you stir it is beautiful. But that first sip is bitter of all the bitter put together. Now that's black coffee #101 for newbie. You keep the mug aside and vow to never try it again. There is stays on the counter-top for minutes while you go about doing your chores.
And then you pass by it and choose, "Let me try again" and sip it.
"NO! Never!", you say making a disgusted face. But you don't really put the mug down. And you sip it again. And again. And yet again. It's a new taste and hence is taking its time to grow onto you.
When you put the empty mug down, you already know it was worth the try (unless of course you just somehow went bottoms-up with it and didn't really like it or you are a tea person. In that case the argument stands for black tea w/o milk or sugar).
Black coffee is different.
And you choose it.
So is love.
You know it's bitter.
But you take the next sip anyway.
© 2015 Neha Choudhry
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| image source: http://bit.ly/1zN5Kev |
