LOST?

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LOST?


She was lost... But was she really lost? The last time, I remember someone shouting about her sudden disappearance, she was just playing peek-a-boo with her companions. Or rather her fellows, who didn't care to find her. It's pretty simple to put a label on something. You can't feel anything? You're just insensitive. You're always crying? You're a whiner! And what if you aren't found? You are LOST!


Those who said she was lost. Did they look for her, behind those massive oak trees? Did they care to look around the area behind the vineyard? Did they know about her secret places anyway? Or did they even search for her? She wasn't lost... In those various mazes of life, she was discovering each piece of herself.


She was busy picking up pieces of herself, from the ground filled with dried and dead leaves. It was tiresome to untangle her locks, which frequently got stuck between the branches. Nobody knew what she was up to. Nobody cared to learn about her. She was there. Alone, all by herself. Building a lesser known version of her. She could laugh all her heart out, and cry with all the imprisoned tears, at the same time. She was growing. She wasn't LOST... She never was...


@_arushmita_


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