First Love

Somewhere between Cinderella losing a shoe to Don Corleone making an offer that one can’t refuse to moving cities and countries, I started falling in love with how one thing lead to another. In fancy words, “the narrative”.

Sometimes I’m scared before starting a book. I pray to the Story Telling Gods that I won’t get disappointed. That this story will excite me. It will make me feel nervous, my eyebrows will come together in one straight line, that there’d be surprises hiding to be discovered by me in the pages. That I will laugh and almost start responding to the lines. That I will make new friends for life, people who’s words I will find myself going back to in years to come. That this story will be the one keeping me up at night and the one I fall asleep with. The one that will make me feel like I’m sitting with them, watching the characters speak, making my own opinions and fighting the itch to not give them my two cents.

I pray that it will make me look forward to what’s happening next. That there will be disappointments but also lots of other moments which I can cherish. That I can close my eyes and smile, knowing that a part of me has changed, somewhere another part of me was discovered and most importantly, all parts of me felt alive.

It’s magical. What a good story can do to a person. Much like life and how it’s all just this one big story that we are navigating and discovering ourselves through.