When we are young, we experience and attend to the call of the wind easily. It’s almost like breathing. I don’t know any child who has not experienced it. That wild thrill of that faint call growing stronger and louder every second, and before you know it, it sweeps you off your feet, accompanying you in vivid experiences.
When I was younger, I spent half my time in the raptures of the call of the wind. It was my sanctuary, a place of freedom. I could be who I wanted to be, do what I wanted, and experience things that were not possible in my daily life.
The wind never disappointed me. She was my best friend. She kept safe all my secrets, my innermost desires, and thoughts. Never once did she betray me. We loved playing together. Our plans and visions getting wilder and crazier every next time.
But I don’t know when I stopped listening to her call. Maybe when I was deluged with college assignments, or stressing over my workload, or pulling my hair out over bills.
Somewhere along the way, we drifted apart. No, scratch that, I drifted away from her.
I think she is still around somewhere, tapping at my door, calling out to me. There are moments when I feel her trying to sneak up on me through some long forgotten memory, a tempting opportunity, or by drawing my focus on others doing better than me.
None of them worked on me and she’s been giving up on me lately. I rarely see her these days. At times, I miss her sorely. She was my refuge during brain-numbing, heart-breaking, soul-wrenching days. And I had ignorantly tossed her aside.
I yearn now to hear the Call of the Wind in her full energetic element. I long for my dearest childhood friend, my partner-in-crime to surprise, hound, and entertain me like before. I truly lived when she was by my side. Without her, I am only existing.
I hope to once more hear the Call of the Wind. I hope once more to let myself free in the company of my loyal friend – Imagination.
This post has been written for the fortnight long #BarAThon challenge organized by Blog-A-Rhythm.