It is that part of the day, when the sun sets down slowly, calling you seductively into the hearth of wild desires. You feel like running barefoot on the sands along the sea, letting the waves seep through every pore of your body. When the body wants to let go of life and embrace the blue waters. What are a few days of work and pleasure, when compared to the beauty of the sunset, the lure of freedom?
You hear a tune, interspersed with memories of yesterday, carrying with it a haunting reminder of tomorrow. Perhaps you heard the tune as a child, and wondered if the song created the scenes in your head, or if it were those magical scenes running in your head that made a song with every step you took. Those sweet days when teddy bears were cherubic babies, when toy trains travelled the world. You feel like going back in time, to dusty lanes and fervid prayers. You want to touch those salty walls you once licked, scream in sheer bliss at the sight of a butterfly.
The heart wants to run back wildly to that utopian world of smiling children and blossoming flowers. That carefully constructed dream, which you wrote down during a boring chemistry class-“I want to live on top of a hill, amidst a lot of serenity, with a lot of happiness. My only friends there will be a group of angelic children, and we will run down the hill together, cheering in joy. Our lives will be made of song and colour, colour and song…”
You have the same feeling now. Of running down wildly, barefoot, with a bunch of children trailing behind you. With the sun calling you, all you want to do is to drop everything and run.
Run for freedom. Run for innocence. Run for rainbows.
The pot of gold is so near, yet so far…