The Perfect Storm

As gushes of dust and warm wind engulfs the city in a storm that momentarily welcomes happy and worried faces alike,and a cloak of darkness wraps the sky and you sit snugly with a warm cup of coffee at a corner of your verandah, as an unattached spectator to Nature’s play and man’s myriad reactions to another of Her unexpected quirks, you realize, that the storm is just a reflection of life,  as we know it, and it’s perfect.

That child smiling goofily at his surroundings, that perplexed mother pulling him closer and trying to find a shade, both are you. You, at that moment  when you were happy for no reason. You at that moment when you were all worked up trying to protect a loved one.

That guy with the tie running with a briefcase over his head, is you too.You,  in a moment of  struggle, trying to make it to your destination, realize your aim.

The unexplainable satisfaction you got  in doing good unto another selflessly !? Yes, it can be seen in the eyes of that security guard who helped that old man,who got dust in his eyes and whose hands were filled with heavy bags of grocery shopping, come down the stairs of the supermarket.

You get my point.

We are all living in a sudden storm. And just like the perfect book or the perfect movie that makes you smile, cry, rejoice, feel depressed or find delight in it, this storm is perfect.

And it brings moments, scattered yet organised slides of emotions which piece by piece makes up your story.

The storm makes sure that your life is worth living.That you have stories to tell.

Paulo Coelho once said, something to the effect, that when everyday of your life seems the same, you have stopped living. 

Thus if not for the storm, your life  would have been a series of similar looking, mundane slides of the same emotions. Without any reason to wake up and live another day. With nothing new to experience or  feel. You would have stopped living.


So rejoice in the storm. Be assured, that as long as it’s all a whirlwind, you’re alive.

Love the dissapointments as much as the successes.

Because it is the imperfections that make this life perfect.