I have always cherish my solitude as when I am alone, I do not need to put on a show. It is not being lonely but being alone only with your thoughts. The silent friend of innocent time is remote eloquence.

Solitude holds yourself within and take no refractive hues from the outer world. It never troubled me. The depth of space and freedom in your own raw, pure thoughts.It helps you to ponder, pause and take notice. It is a sweet thing to be by myself as no one else has been as accepting of me. Solitude clarifies your purpose. Days I enjoyed the most are days spent on the misty, foggy woods walking alone, when there are no engagements to attend and pretend, when no one perceive me as a puzzle, a riddle to be solved.

We have forgotten the beauty of empty days and hours. Do we all have to chase and push ourselves  to the finishing line.

Let sun sips through the windowpane, paint with the color of the wind, tapping of rain, lazy moments of cozy togetherness….little things, feelings are the biggest pleasures of life like my flour dusted kitchen after bake, sunbeam playing peek-a-boo with the patio curtain, solitary walks and poems having a limerence. Thoughts are coiled up in silent retreats of your daily nooks. Chirping birds, Lush tinted spring earth, silence drapes them in spider webs of solitude.

All our days are made of little useless longings and sometimes trivial unpleasantness. We do not spend enough time with our own self. Finding time for myself does not make me lonely, romantic, poetic, elusive, confused or erratic. Yes, I will always be an outsider as I can watch and feel.. not out of snobby intellect or just to prove a point.

Sit at the edge, see from a distance, let the fanfare of daily life go by. We do not feel in crowd of words.Wish their is a mute button to all this chatter that drowns the real us. Visit yourself in complete silence, collect all your neglected pieces. Be quiet, so that you know what to say when you must say.

As I have known The Wise Oyster stays in it’s shell.

About the author
Ritu is one who lives in the no-man's-land halfway between dreams and reality. She scribbles and dabbles in the alchemy of transforming the cynicism of existence into optimism of words as they are better of felt than understood. These words are not pictures of your life, nor they are cryptic or pretentious. She bathes with reality not in silence but through the web of words as she realizes life is only a dialogue of nature.

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